What it Takes to Fall

by Ellis, C. R.

“That we’ll be important pieces of each other’s lives down the line?" he continued. "I fu…freaking hope so, Elliot. I know, based on the past, it’s easy to question it, but things are different now. I’m different. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But what if—”

  “Hey,” he interjected, tipping my chin up. “Remember what I said about the what if game. I know you hate uncertainty. I know planning ahead puts your mind at ease and unknowns freak you out. But the wrong what ifs are poisonous, El. Let’s try something. Give me a what if— a worst case about anything—and I’ll give you one in return, and we go back and forth with them. Not answering, just volleying. Sometimes just verbalizing things can help clear the negativity out of your system.”

  “Okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”

  Whether it was perfect timing on his part or just good luck, I couldn’t tell, but we’d ambled away from the bears and were now standing in front of the pig, much to Peyton’s delight. Bryce set her down, and she quickly scurried up toward the barrier, eagerly pressing her little hands against it and straining to see inside.

  “Okay, we’re good for at least ten minutes. I’ll go first. What if Peyton never outgrows her pig obsession and refuses to eat bacon?”

  I laughed and slapped his arm. “I think you’ll manage.”

  “Hey, it’s a real concern.” He smiled, but then it melted into neutrality. “Okay. No answering, El. Just back and forth.”

  I took a breath and released the what if I kept coming back to. “What if the inn or venue fails?”

  Bryce’s eyes softened, and I knew he wanted to address my question, but he’d just reminded me of the rules. “What if David and Louise eventually resent me for moving their only grandchild across the country?”

  “What if my grandparents’ retirement means they take off and I only see them once or twice a year?”

  “What if you hate the way the venue plans turn out?” he asked with complete sincerity.

  “Bryce.” My face pinched into disbelief, but I didn’t elaborate. “What if you leave again?”

  “El.” His hand moved to cup my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “What if I don’t?”

  “What if we…” What if we fall in love and things fall apart?

  Bryce stepped closer, skating his fingers over the skin of my neck before weaving them into my hair and holding me in place. “What if,” he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I.” Down my jawline. “Make.” Up the other side. “You.” Cheek. “Mine.”

  Oh my god.

  I couldn’t decide which I craved more—his lips or his words.

  But then his mouth crashed into mine and made the decision for me. I welcomed his kiss as if it held the answers to all my what ifs. In this moment, it did. Each swipe of his tongue against mine silenced my brain and turned those what ifs into hopeful maybes.

  Mindful of where we were, Bryce pulled back before our display ventured into indecent territory. The look in his eyes was an echo of his last what if—a heady mixture of desire and possession. “Stay the night, Uno. Stay with me.”

  I nodded without hesitation, grinning like a crazy person thanks to the way my stomach flipped at the implication behind his plea. “Okay.”

  “I’d say I hope you packed pajamas in that duffel bag, but I’d be lying. In fact, I’m tempted to light the bag on fire just in case you did bring pjs.”

  “You didn’t have this little proclivity for pyrotechnics last time I slept over.”

  “I learn from my mistakes.”

  I arched a brow at him. “What if they’re sexy pajamas?”

  He playfully swatted my ass with a smooth subtlety. “Then they’ll be ripped sexy pajamas.”

  “Promises, promises, Toad…” I trailed off into a smirk, backing away toward Peyton while my eyes roamed Bryce's body.

  His laugh at my newest nickname (his least-favorite Mario Kart character) was a mixture of disbelief and warning. I’m probably going to pay for that one.

  I crouched down next to Peyton, and she immediately began babbling animatedly about her new pot-bellied friend. My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I smiled at the photo from Bryce—Peyton positioned between my legs where I knelt, one hand patting my leg and the other pointing toward the pig with a huge smile encompassing her face.

  BRYCE:I’m going to run to the restroom, then I’ll go buy some goat food. I figure our best shot at getting P to willingly ditch the pig is distraction. You good?

  I swiveled around and shook my head, trying not to panic at the thought of being alone with her again.

  He gestured to his phone before quickly typing another message.

  BRYCE:You’ll be fine, El. I promise. She’s happy.

  ELLIOT:What if she realizes you’re gone and freaks out?!

  BRYCE:What if she eats a handful of the goat food?

  ELLIOT:Hm. Could be worse. Assuming it’s peanut-free goat food!

  He didn’t reply right away, so I looked back and found him smiling before he mouthed, “See? You got this.”

  I sighed and gave him a thumbs up without drawing Peyton’s attention.

  After a few minutes, Peyton grabbed my hand and started tugging me around the enclosure so she could get a closer view. Once we were directly behind the pig, she threw her arms up and squawked, “Up! Up!”

  I scooped her up into my arms and settled her onto my hip. The pig looked directly at Peyton and stopped just on the other side of the fence from us, causing Peyton to squeal with joy and wiggle her whole body against mine. He immediately plopped on to his back and started rolling around.

  I let out a laugh and shook my head. “Look, Peyton, he’s showing off for his number one fan!”

  “Moe!” Peyton shouted.

  “Aw, does this pig remind you of your Lulu’s pig back in Washington?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

  Peyton continued watching the pig, completely enamored. The joy on her face was priceless, and I couldn’t bring myself to care what antics the pig pulled. I only cared about soaking in the bliss of Peyton's happiness.

  Her feet went into hyper speed, kicking back and forth against me. At the same time, I felt someone brush past me from behind.

  “So sorry about that,” I said, turning to a white-haired woman who looked to be a few years older than Nana.

  She smiled and waved me off. “It’s not a problem, dear. Your daughter sure is adorable.”

  “She’s…” I paused and glanced at Peyton. She tightened her grip on my shirt and pressed her head against my shoulder, sliding right into shy mode. “Thank you. I couldn’t agree more.”

  I had intended to clarify the situation, but the words felt wrong and wouldn’t leave my throat. I told myself it didn’t matter what a complete stranger thought; going with her assumption was certainly easier than offering an explanation.

  I also told myself it didn’t matter that her words floated through my veins and into my heart, making a home there.

  Chapter 20

  Bryce

  I’m going to hell.

  Bringing Peyton to the zoo was mostly selfish. I knew she’d love seeing all the animals, but I also knew it would wear her out. So, really, it was a win-win for us both.

  She was so exhausted by the time we got home that I was able to put her to bed in record time.

  Slipping out of Peyton’s room without making a sound, I pulled the door closed and followed the sound of random notes from my guitar.

  The sight of El curled up on the couch, running her fingers over the strings made me smile. Then again, the sight of Elliot always made me smile. It didn’t matter if she was rolling her eyes at one of my lame jokes or gloating because she beat me at Mario Kart or if she was giving me a look that spelled out exactly how much she wanted me; every second I spent with her filled me with a happiness I’d only ever felt when around her. The feeling was addicting, and I found myself craving her presence every time we were apart.

  “Are you gonna come over here or
just keep staring at me like a true stalker?” she asked without looking up.

  My smile pulled wider, but I made no attempt to push off the wall. “Not sure. I’m pretty fond of the view from here.”

  It was the truth. From this angle I had a straight-on, unobstructed view of her. Legs curled up and tucked under her, shirt hanging off to expose one shoulder, blonde hair falling across part of her face. So damn perfect.

  “You know, Bryce,” she started, still plucking at strings while finally looking up to meet my gaze. “When you asked me to sleep over, I just assumed you had something a little more…hands-on in mind.”

  The wink she shot me instantly made my dick twitch.

  Fuck. Could she be any sexier?

  “That so? Like what?”

  “Hmm. I seem to recall something about late night Mario Kart races and a pool rematch.”

  “Oh, trust me, a pool rematch is definitely in our future, Elliot. But for now we’ll have to get a little more creative than that.”

  “What about this?” she asked, gesturing toward the guitar by her side. “Will you play something for me?”

  I walked over and picked up the guitar then sat on the couch next to El. “Y’know, when I started learning how to play, I didn’t realize how much of a chick magnet it would be. Seriously. It works every time.”

  Elliot eyed me from beneath her pinched down eyebrows. “Bryce. If you’re about to tell me about how much ass you got in college, so help me…”

  I couldn’t help but smirk at her reaction.

  Green was a good shade on El.

  I halfway considered seeing how much of a rise I could get out of her, but the truth fell from my tongue before I realized what I was saying.

  I propped the guitar up in my lap and plucked a couple strings before looking back at Elliot. “Peyton’s the only person I’ve ever played for.”

  Her eyes went round before softening and filling with warmth.

  “Bryce,” she whispered, reaching over to stop my hands from playing. “I didn’t realize…you don’t have to play for me. That’s your daddy-daughter thing.”

  “I’ve only played for Peyton because I’ve only wanted to play for Peyton. You…” You make me want a lot of things I’ve never wanted with anyone else. “Are the only other person I’ll do this for.”

  I quickly searched my mental playlist of songs I knew by heart and turned to face her when I made a decision. Elton John songs were Peyton’s favorite, and “Your Song” jumped out at me. For some reason, it just felt right in that moment.

  As soon as I sang the first line, El’s hand flew to her mouth, where it stayed until I finished. After a few seconds, I stopped, and her hand dropped to her lap. Her eyes, still round and wide, locked onto me like she had no intention of ever looking away.

  “Thank god you haven’t done that for anyone other than Peyton.”

  My lips twitched while I flickered my eyes away just long enough to settle the guitar back on its stand beside the couch. “Oh, come on. I don’t sound that bad, do I?” I turned to her again, only to find she’d closed the already-narrow gap between our bodies. Subtle hints of vanilla and honey floated over me, a tease of the lotion I knew for a fact she used all over her body.

  A handful of memories from last time flashed through my mind, waking my dick right the hell up.

  She shook her head and bit the nail of her other thumb, eyes still trained on me. “No. Because you’re right.”

  “Can you be more specific? I’m right about a lot of stuff, Uno.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, she pushed up and crawled onto my lap, straddling my hips and looping her arms around my neck. I slid my hands from her thighs, up to her hips, and held her there.

  “You’re so…damn…cocky,” she murmured, licking her lips and failing miserably at making that statement sound remotely chastising.

  No, El wasn’t scolding my arrogance at all. Seeing her pulse jump in her neck and the way her chest moved in quick little bursts, coupled with the way she’d perfectly aligned her body with mine gave me the truth her words hadn’t.

  But still, I wanted her vocal.

  I wanted to pry the words out of her almost as much as I wanted to peel the clothes off her body.

  “Tell me,” I urged, my fingers squeezing into the highest part of her perfectly sculpted ass. I watched her swallow and fought the urge to devour the exposed column of her neck.

  “Before, you weren’t wrong about me dying to see you naked, but this just took it to a whole new level. Watching you play, hearing you sing…I swear I’ve never been this turned on. This wet. God, I want you, Bryce.”

  Her voice dropped at the end of her confession, and my dick immediately reacted. I pulled her flush against my body until our mouths crashed into each other.

  “Off,” I growled, hooking my pointer fingers through her belt loops and pulling on her jeans. Just to give her a little extra incentive, I slipped my hand beneath the band of her jeans and felt my way down the silk material of her panties before hooking a finger inside.

  “Bryce,” she rasped, sucking in a breath and widening her legs as much as her restricting jeans would allow. Holy shit. My intrusion was met by the most exquisite mixture of warmth and wetness, and we both groaned as I sank two fingers into her.

  She arched into me, into the rhythm of my fingers. When she started rocking her hips into it, I stopped, and her eyes flew open, her chest heaving.

  “Take. Them. Off,” I said, dipping a finger into her and pulling it back to emphasize each word. “Top, too.”

  She fumbled with the button of her jeans before popping it open and ripping the zipper down. I rubbed her clit to encourage her along.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, swaying a little as she stood. With my free hand I helped pull down the denim and silk combo until she stepped out of both, baring her lower half completely for me. Jesus. Just the sight of her glistening pussy makes me wanna come.

  Keeping two of my fingers working inside her, I urged her closer, erasing a little of the gap she’d just put between us. “Elliot. Shirt. Now. I want to have access to every single inch of you.”

  She slipped the wine-colored top over her head and let it fall to the floor before reaching back to unhook her strapless bra. I sucked in a breath at the sight of her, completely bare and looking at me with the same hunger in her eyes that I felt in my bones. I’d seen her like this last time—laying open and eager on my bed—but this might as well have been the first time based on the way my dick reacted.

  For a split-second, I was almost grateful that our friendship unraveled; if it hadn’t, and we were still just casual friends who only did friendly activities…yeah, I definitely didn’t let my mind linger on that possibility.

  “Fair’s fair, Bryce. Yours off, too.” She plucked at my shirt, breaking me free of wayward thoughts.

  Grinning, I used my free hand to reach back. I pulled the shirt over my head without hesitation. Her eyes instantly roamed my chest, taking stock of each muscle, one by one. “Yeah, you’ve got an okay body, I guess.”

  Her little laugh cut off when I gripped her hips and tugged her forward.

  I couldn’t decide between pulling her back down on top of me or burying my face between her legs. While I debated, she slid back onto my lap, and somehow my fingers found their way back into her pussy of their own accord. She slowly rocked her hips, and I let her movements dictate the pace for now. “Don’t be afraid to tell me what you want.”

  “Keep going,” she urged, and I felt her walls squeeze tighter. “Faster.”

  “Good girl,” I praised, granting her request.

  She started to smile, but it quickly fell as a moan slipped past her lips and she rocked her hips faster, chasing the orgasm I knew was rapidly building.

  The sounds of her arousal filled the air as my fingers pumped in and out of her at a furious pace. “Pretty sure I’ll never get enough of you. Of this.”

  “I’ll never…this is…ohhhhhh,
god, Bryce, I’m gonna come,” she warned, digging her fingertips into my traps while she tightened around my fingers and rode out her orgasm.

  I withdrew from her, licking my fingers like they held the last traces of the world’s sweetest dessert before shifting our bodies so she was splayed out on the couch.

  “I want you for so much more than just the way you look, El, but this body? I’d sell my fucking soul for this view.” I flashed her a heated, hungry look and licked my lips. “If you only knew all the wicked fantasies your body has summoned recently…”

  She pushed up on her elbows and hooked a leg behind mine, pulling me toward her. “Show me.”

  “Careful what you wish for.”

  I dropped to my knees at the side of the couch, threw her leg over my shoulder and drew my tongue up her hot center. My lips tugged into a smile when she moaned and sprouted tiny goosebumps across her stomach. Another languid swipe of my tongue across her clit made her thighs clench around me, and I had to apply actual pressure to keep her legs open.

  Jerking my head up, I gave her a warning look before thrusting two fingers into her. She gasped and arched off the couch. So fucking hot.

  I reached my free hand over to the side table where her cup sat and moved it to the floor, fishing out a piece of ice along the way. Holding it between my index, middle finger, and thumb, I brought it up to her most sensitive part and slowly dragged it in every direction.

  “Ah! What the fuck?!” she yelped, flying into an almost sitting position.

  I smirked and quickly withdrew the melting ice to replace it with my tongue.

  “Oh. Oh. Ohhhh, fuck, Bryce,” El groaned. I felt her loosen back up and ease her legs wider.

  “That’s it, El. Just relax.” I popped the ice cube between my lips and lowered my head, tracing it along the outer edges of her folds. This time when she clenched it wasn’t out of surprise.

  Until I gently slid the ice cube inside her.

  She squealed, but a moan followed quickly behind.