What it Takes to Fall

by Ellis, C. R.

  He pulled back, but stayed within the perimeter of my personal space.

  I let out the breath I'd been holding, meeting his eyes. “You, Bryce McKnight, get way too much satisfaction out of this little game we’re playing.”

  “I’ve always loved the games we play, El, but if you think this is true satisfaction, clearly you’ve never been properly fucked.”

  At that, my jaw practically hit the floor.

  It should’ve alarmed me, the way Bryce took the simmering sexual tension between us and effortlessly escalated it to a boiling point. The implication in his words floated between us, a silent promise that he could easily rectify that situation.

  “That so?” I asked. The words were breathy and awed so I cleared my throat. “Is this the part where you say you’re just the man to fix that?”

  He slowly lifted his spoon, dipping it in the ice cream and lapping it off in a blatantly suggestive way. “Nope. This is the part where we watch Dateline and eat ice cream on the couch. C’mon.”

  “Seriously?”

  Bryce paused halfway to the couch and turned back, searching my face and reading the confusion there. He retraced the handful of steps separating us and put the ice cream down before grabbing my hands and pulling me close. “Seriously. Of course I want to ‘fix’ that, El. I can’t look at you without wanting to fix it immediately. In case you didn’t already know, I’m wildly attracted to you, Uno,” he said, brushing his fingers along my jaw and down my neck, pausing over the galloping beat of my pulse. “But we agreed that we’d take this slow and see where things go, and I know how far out of your comfort zone it is to not have a plan. I might not know everything about you, but I know you’re not the type to jump into bed with a guy without knowing where things stand or are going between you. As strange as this is going to sound…I won’t use sex to influence where things go with us. Does that mean I’m going to be the perfect gentleman? Abso-fucking-lutely not. But it does mean I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure we do this right.”

  Emotion clogged my throat and threatened to blur my vision. Still, knowing Bryce was right didn’t mean my body was on board with the idea of the slow track. I lifted a hand to travel over his shoulder and rest against the nape of his neck. “So…you’re saying you think I’m hot?”

  A groan in Bryce’s throat sent a vibration through my palm and made my smile impossible to keep in check. “That is all you got out of my sincere, well-intentioned speech?”

  “No. But it’s either focus on that part, or focus on the part where you told me you don’t want to have sex with me and it was incredibly sweet and only made me like you more.”

  “I think you misheard, El. I want to fuck you from now until Christmas. But you…we…aren’t there yet. And I respect that.”

  His confession was startling—another taste of the dirty-talker-Jekyll hidden beneath the gentleman-Hyde.

  I gazed up at him, studying the dark dirty blonde lashes framing his aqua eyes. “You’re a rare breed, Bryce. A perfect balance of sinner and saint wrapped in one alarmingly hot package.”

  He grinned and pecked my lips before putting space between us. “The only saint-like thing about me is my patience. Now come on, the ice cream’s melting.”

  Despite the fact I really did need to get some work done, I couldn't resist cookies-and-cream. Or Bryce. We split the pint and watched a couple episodes of Dateline, making a competition out of predicting the endings.

  He was wrong about one thing; his self-restraint was also saint-like. Other than a PG-13 make-out session at my car when I was leaving, we managed to keep our hands to ourselves.

  I knew going slow was the right move, at least until we had a better idea of where things were going between us. It would be incredibly reckless not to consider Peyton, not to prioritize her above all else. Bryce made it clear that we’re heading toward the more-than-friends zone, but dating him means being a part of her life too, and I had to wonder if he realized what a massive step that was.

  Chapter 14

  Elliot

  “Tell me about your childhood,” Mr. Adams requested, taking me by surprise as he set his drink on the table and slipped back into the seat across from me.

  I had just gotten my latte when I spotted Mr. Adams studying the menu from the back of the line. I gestured for him to join me after he got his drink, and we’d spent the last half-hour talking about Serenity—how my grandparents ran it, their philosophy behind its operation, even the origin of the name.

  I expected that line of questioning. This? Not so much.

  “My childhood? Why?”

  “You were raised by some pretty extraordinary people, and I’m betting you’ve got lots of stories. I’d love to hear some of them.”

  “How’d you know they raised me?” I asked, crossing my arms. I was certain I hadn’t said anything that would’ve given him that impression.

  Adams picked up his tea and took a sip, unfazed by my confusion. “There are photos of you and your sister throughout your grandfather’s office. He spoke as if you were his children, calling you two his ‘pride and joy.’ It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

  “Oh.” I sank back in my chair, feeling a little dumb for not realizing that myself. Come on, Elliot, he’s just trying to get a clearer picture of the people who built the business he wants to buy. People like Adams look into every minor detail before making major financial decisions. Nana and Pops said they really like him. Stop being weird.

  “I consider it part of my job to familiarize myself with anyone I do business with, Ms. Kincaid,” he said, reading my mind. “Personal life included. How a person treats their flesh and blood speaks a lot to their character. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  His gray storm-cloud eyes studied me intensely, and I couldn’t discern what it was they held. Intensity came with the territory of his job title, which he had in spades; but this was different. Intimidating. Like he was trying to see inside my head and unlock the answer to his question with his stare alone.

  I got the feeling he’d ask about my favorite cereal with equal intensity.

  “I guess. But if that’s the case, it seems only fair that you tell me about your family too.”

  He pursed his lips together and twirled the gold band adorning his left ring finger before momentarily shifting his attention to a pair of women passing by outside, his posture rigid and cold. “I don’t have a family anymore. I lost my wife and son to complications during birth.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Adams. I didn’t mean…”

  He turned back to me and waved his hand dismissively, shedding all traces of ice in his demeanor. “That was another life. Though I suppose you could say they’re why I have somewhat of a soft spot for family-oriented businesses.”

  I had a feeling that was about as close as Greg Adams ever came to sharing personal information. The man was still a complete mystery, but I figured the most important thing was his interest in maintaining the principles Serenity was built upon.

  “Well, Serenity is definitely rooted in family values. The majority of guests are repeats, which is something my grandparents take immense pride in. Every summer when I was growing up, George and Millie would tell us to pick a state, and we’d make a big road trip out of it and find things to see along the way. We’d get quality family time by traveling in an RV, and they also got to ensure firsthand that the staff at each Serenity property was upholding their standards. They taught my sister and me a little about the business in the process as well. I know using guest feedback to enhance the experience at a hotel isn’t innovative or uncommon, but Pops prided himself on doing so on a personal level. Think Undercover Boss style.”

  “Sounds like George knows how to kill multiple birds with one stone. Impressive.”

  I nodded. “He is. They both are. I’m lucky to have grown up with them as my role models. So many times—”

  An alert from Mr. Adams’s phone cut me off, and he looked down and frowned. “I’m sorr
y, Ms. Kincaid, something’s come up that requires my immediate attention.”

  He stood, and I stuttered at his abrupt urgency.

  “Oh. Um, okay, no problem.”

  He thanked me for the help, and I’d barely had a second to respond before he rushed out the door.

  Huh. Weird.

  I shrugged off his hurried departure and headed to the counter to order another drink. My last appointment of the afternoon had canceled this morning, so I decided to stick around the coffee shop and do some of the behind-the-scenes grunt work like drafting contracts and sorting through emails.

  I had my headphones in, letting Ed Sheeran serenade me in the background, when the ping of an iMessage over the music caught my attention.

  BRYCE:MORE coffee??? Are you aware of potential heart issues caused by an increased caffeine intake?

  My head jerked up, instinctively looking for hair the shade of dark honey. He sat across the room at a tiny table with his laptop out. Smiling eyes behind black-rimmed glasses met mine before he shot me a wink. I smiled and turned back to my computer.

  ELLIOT:Are YOU aware of the term ‘restraining order’??? Exactly how long have you been watching me, McStalks-a-lot?

  BRYCE:Never heard of it. And…long enough. This is MY coffee shop, remember? Also, if you’re expanding the potential nicknames to Mc-somethings, I prefer McDreamy.

  ELLIOT:So humble. Too bad that one’s already taken. But feel free to keep the suggestions coming.

  BRYCE:Ask and you shall receive…

  BRYCE:McDreamboat. McHotBody. McLicious. McMagicDick.

  I spewed iced coffee onto my laptop screen and keyboard. Grabbing a napkin, I wiped up the mess.

  ELLIOT:McLicious? What are you, some kind of McDonald’s dessert? I’m thinking McCock…y seems highly fitting.

  ELLIOT:Also, my fingers are now sticky, thanks to you.

  BRYCE:If we’re about to swap confessions about masturbating after you went home last night, we should move this conversation somewhere more private.

  BRYCE:Then again, I do love the idea of making you squirm in public…

  ELLIOT:??????

  BRYCE:El. Reread your text.

  I did, and my face immediately burst into flames of mortification. Other parts of me also burst to life at Bryce’s words.

  Also, he wasn’t wrong about what I’d done after I got home last night.

  ELLIOT:You wouldn’t.

  ELLIOT:Besides, even if that was remotely true, how do you know *you* were the reason behind it?

  BRYCE:I can see you blushing from here. That’s how.

  BRYCE:It’s adorable, by the way. But now picturing you touching yourself is giving me very NSFW thoughts and ideas.

  ELLIOT:Such as?

  BRYCE:Elliot Kincaid…are you trying to get me to sext you…from across the room, while we’re both on the clock?

  I leaned back in my chair and bit my lip, refusing to look his way. Crap. Is that what I’m doing? I can’t do that while we’re both supposed to be working. While part of me worried he actually would try to sext me right now, the idea of seeing how far I could push Bryce was too tempting to pass up.

  ELLIOT:Maybe.

  BRYCE:Dirty girl. I’m coming over there.

  ELLIOT:No!

  ELLIOT:Not yet. I actually do need to work. And you coming over here right now would probably make that impossible.

  I swore I heard him sigh from across the room, but when I looked over, his eyes were on his screen.

  BRYCE:I’ll make you a deal. We both work—no distractions—for a solid hour, a ‘power hour’ if you will, and then I’m coming over there.

  ELLIOT:Deal.

  I closed out of Messages and successfully resisted the urge to turn and look at Bryce.

  No distractions.

  Right.

  Easier said than done when he was in my vicinity, hijacking my thoughts every other minute.

  Chapter 15

  Bryce

  Note to self: Mental images of Elliot Kincaid, flushed and naked, writhing under me while I finger-fuck her is the definition of distraction.

  Why does she have to be so damn cute when she blushes?

  Why did the sight of said blush—and knowing I was actually right about last night—immediately get me hard?

  Last night.

  My complete honesty with her was impulsive, but not a mistake.

  A mistake would’ve been ignoring the questions and confusion I saw in her eyes.

  Previously, I’d kept the sexual undertones and insinuations to a minimum because treading lightly seemed like the best option while we figured out where we fit in each other’s worlds.

  But subtlety was overrated. I refused to be another question mark, another unknown in her life.

  In a sea of chaos, I’d be the anchor she needed.

  Logically, I knew it was risky to make that kind of promise when the truth about my role in Helen’s vanishing act five years ago loomed over me like a dark cloud. A ticking time bomb that threatened to blow everything between us to bits.

  But this was Elliot. My Elliot.

  And I’ll keep us in our ‘B and E’ bubble for as long as she’ll let me.

  Weeks ago, I’d asked El if she thought certain people come into our lives at a specific time for a reason. Last night, when I saw her anxiety about everything going on in her life, something changed, shifted inside of me. The same way it had the first time that question was posed to me. I’d never really believed in fate or destiny or cosmic forces bringing people together, but as soon as I’d considered it, I knew Peyton was my yes.

  And in her own way, I was starting to think El was another yes.

  I felt it in the way my heart became lighter, less hollow when she was around. In the way it seemed to soar inside my chest each time I made her smile. In the way our first kiss dulled the pain and anger my heart still harbored from Bridgette’s betrayal.

  I’d spent the last two years feigning apathy toward Bridgette, convincing myself that the only reason I hadn’t considered asking a woman out was because Peyton needed one-hundred percent of my attention.

  Denial was my shield.

  But with El, one smile was all it took to completely unravel my defenses. It should’ve unnerved me, the way she so casually disarmed me. Instead, it brought me comfort. Peace. Clarity.

  Since the day we met, El was the one person in my life who had never let me down. I’d already fucked up by not reaching out to her sooner. And by going behind her back five years ago. I had no intention of continuing that streak.

  A look in El’s direction told me she was totally wrapped up in her work. She twisted her hair around her fingers before flipping it over one shoulder and resting her chin in her hand, exposing the slant of her neck and a part of her collar bone peeking out from her shirt. As if that little glimpse wasn’t enough to re-summon those NSFW visions, she bit down on her lip and narrowed her gaze at something on the screen.

  So damn sexy.

  And she has no idea.

  Seriously, the girl was completely clueless about the kind of effect she had on dicks.

  Yeah, there’s no way in hell she lives with a dude and he doesn’t beat off to thoughts of her at night.

  I still didn’t quite know what to make of her living arrangements. Milo seemed nice enough, but I’d barely exchanged words with the guy. Platonic friendships are like four-leaf clovers; you know they exist, but for every one you find, there are ninety-nine that turn out to be three-leafed ones. I believed El when she said she thought of Milo as a brother, but how could he not be attracted to her?

  Maybe he’s gay?

  Shoving those thoughts away and refocusing on my computer screen, I minimized the Safari window and pulled up Messages.

  Our ‘power hour’ was over, and unlike myself, it seemed Elliot had concentrated on work the entire time.

  BRYCE:Thinking you need a drink. And after watching you chew on your lip like that, I sure as hell
do too. You almost ready to call it quits?

  Her head swiveled my direction, and she released her lip to give me a wicked little smile.

  I returned her smile and threw in a wink for good measure.

  ELLIOT:Oh, really? Good to know what butters your biscuit.

  BRYCE:Butters my biscuit??? Good god, that’s awful, Uno. Truly.

  ELLIOT:Strikes your match?

  BRYCE:Worse.

  ELLIOT:Revs your engine?

  BRYCE:…just no. How much longer is this torture going to last?

  ELLIOT:At least one more. Tickles your pickle?

  With that, I burst into laughter, garnering stares from a couple at the table next to me.

  BRYCE:I’m starting to wonder if you’re familiar with the actual terminology.

  ELLIOT:Maybe I’m saving my best material for a more…intimate setting.

  I looked up and caught her biting her lip while raking her gaze over me. She met my eyes and winked.