Say You're Mine

by Alexis Winter

  Somehow, each was better than the time before.

  Looking at him now, with the morning light creeping through the curtains, it would be hard to find a more beautiful man. His hair is now down, covering part of his face. The tattoos on his chest and arms are a work of art I could stare at for hours.

  “Quit looking at me. It’s creeping me the fuck out,” he says sleepily, not opening his eyes, though a glimpse of a smile crosses his face.

  “Quit being so hot and maybe I will.” I’ve never had a filter when it comes to Kalum. No reason to start hiding my true thoughts now.

  Speaking of not holding back . . . I have a naked Kalum in this bed. And there are things I didn’t get to do last night.

  I know that I only have a few more hours before things have to go back to normal, so I’m going to take advantage of this bubble in which Kalum and I have found ourselves.

  Before he can stop me, I roll on top of him—the fact that we never dressed last night playing to my advantage as I grind my center against his growing length.

  “Tori, what are you doing?” he grabs my hips, ceasing any morning action. Damn him for being more awake than I thought.

  “I’m going for round four, but apparently you have other ideas.”

  He rolls me off of him and sits up in bed, making sure everything is appropriately covered. If that doesn’t scream “no sex,” I don’t know what does. I follow suit, grabbing the sheet to cover myself up for what apparently is the talking portion of our morning.

  I would’ve much rather had round four.

  “Tori, last night was—”

  “Amazing. Fantastic. I know. I was there. You weren’t so bad yourself.” If we are going to have this talk, we aren’t going to do it like two basic people who accidentally hooked up after a night of too much tequila. We are going to be Tori and Kalum.

  “Do you have to be a smart-ass about everything?”

  Yes. This is what I want. This is the Kalum I want to talk to.

  “Yes, I do. It’s who I am. And you are going to give me shit for being a smart-ass, cause that’s who you are. So, if you want to talk, let’s talk like us, not like I’m some girl you picked up at the bar and are trying to let down easy with promises of ‘I’ll call you later.’”

  I know what he’s going to say. That last night was great but can’t happen again. That I’m too young, too good of a friend, our friends are going to get married, blah, blah, blah. I know he’s not going to say the real reason why we can’t be together—hell, I don’t even know what that reason is. He’s going to say he doesn’t do relationships. Well, he needs to know that neither do I.

  He sighs and looks at the ceiling, which I’ve learned is his tell for when he’s annoyed with me. He does it a lot.

  “We can’t ever speak of this. It was a one-time thing. We can never do this again.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  “Do I, Kalum? We’re consenting adults. We’re friends, even if you act like an asshole around me more often than not. We each know where the other stands. So I don’t see the problem with it.”

  “Tori, you’ve proven half of my point for me. Yes, we are adults and can do whatever we like. But we are friends. We have mutual friends who would get sucked into our world. And I don’t date. I don’t do relationships.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “You have a new boyfriend every time I turn around. It’s exhausting trying to keep up. Don’t give me that ‘I don’t do relationships’ shit because I know you do.”

  “It’s never serious. I don’t do serious. So this could be perfect.”

  He’s searching my face, trying to see if I’m throwing down a line of bullshit. He should know by now that I don’t say anything I don’t mean.

  “What are you suggesting, Tori? I need you to be really clear with me right now.”

  “Down low. Friends with benefits. Doing what we did last night, but no one has to know.”

  He stares at me for a good minute, not saying a word. When we started this conversation, I didn’t know if I really wanted to be friends with benefits with Kalum, but as I keep thinking about not doing what we did last night ever again, well, it makes me want to retire from sex.

  And I’m way too young to close this down for life.

  “Can you really handle that?” he asks. “I don’t do relationships, Tori. This will never turn into anything else but what it is. Sex. No strings. No attachments.”

  I roll my eyes. Like he has to worry about me catching the relationship bug.

  “Cross my heart. I promise on Grant’s life that I won’t fall madly in love with you.”

  He weighs his and my words, and I can’t believe he’s even considering this.

  “And no one will know? Not even Annabelle or Scarlett?”

  I nod. “This is between you and me. Which means you can’t tell Maverick or Jaxson, either.”

  More silence. I can feel my heart thudding in my chest as I realize he very well could turn me down. But before I know it, he’s back on top of me, using those talented lips to trace kisses around my neck and shoulders.

  “I take it you’re in? Because if you’re turning me down, this is one hell of a rejection.”

  He never officially answers me, but I’m taking the back-to-back orgasms he gives me as a yes.

  12

  Kalum

  There are two things that are able to get my head on straight when I can’t focus—being under the hood of a car and going a few rounds with Jaxson.

  Considering half of my problems are associated with cars and the garage, getting in the ring with Jaxson is the easy choice. Except he isn’t at The Pit right now, so this heavy bag is going to have to do the trick.

  Honestly, this is probably safer. Heavy bags can’t ask me questions I don’t want to answer. Because the two things I’m battling in my mind right now can’t be talked about.

  My head is a really fucking scary place to be right now.

  A few months ago, I came to peace with my situation involving Big Al and The Kings. I hate that I have to do it, but I know the reason behind it.

  But this new situation with Tori? This is a whole new ballgame, and I don’t even know when I started playing.

  That’s a lie. I know exactly when I stepped up to the plate: when I saw her in that fucking red dress.

  I don’t even know what I’m throwing at the punching bag, but I know it’s taking a week’s worth of anger and confusion with each punch and kick I throw at it.

  How did I get in a friends-with-benefits situation with a certain black-haired beauty who has been haunting my dreams ever since I dropped her off at her apartment a week ago after the reunion?

  Even if Jaxson were here grilling me on how my trip with Tori went—because I’m sure he and Annabelle are dying to exchange notes, because apparently, that’s what couples do—I don’t even know what I would tell him.

  No. Scratch that. I would tell him the truth—which is that I don’t fucking know how it went because my brain is clouded by sex and the image of Tori riding my face.

  I don’t know what’s going on, or how I got here, or hell, which way is up at this point. One minute I was fulfilling a bet I made with a sexy pool hustler, and the next I had agreed to be secret fuck buddies with said hustler who I’m sure is going to be the death of me.

  And when it came to everything else that happened between those two events, I’m pretty sure I blacked out.

  That’s a lie. I’ll never forget that red dress for the rest of my life.

  At this point, I’m now seeing how much punishment this bag can take with a series of kicks and punches. Usually, the harder I go with a workout, the more my mind clears. But today, not so much. That’s the power Tori has over me.

  I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve woken up in bed with a woman. I’m not exactly the cuddly type, but there were occasionally times I was too drunk to drive home, which led to me sneaking out in the middl
e of the night. Needless to say, waking up with Tori inches from me was a new experience.

  One I didn’t entirely hate. Which didn’t freak me out as much as I thought it would.

  At that moment, with her looking at me with sleepy eyes and hair all over the place, I wasn’t worried about the garage or my past. I was just a man waking up next to a beautiful woman. One who rocked my fucking world the night before. One I hadn’t quite had my fill of yet.

  I’m blaming my sex-induced brain for going along with her idea, because it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever agreed to. And I’m letting a gang leader use my garage to strip cars.

  “Whoa. I’m glad I’m not that bag!”

  I stop my punches as Jaxson grabs the heavy bag. I didn’t even know how hard I had been going. But judging by how I’m now gasping for air, it was with no regard for myself, or the bag.

  “I needed to let off some steam, and someone wasn’t here to go rounds with me. So, this is really your fault.”

  Jaxson tosses me a bottle of water and we take a seat. My arms are already burning. I hadn’t felt it when I was hitting the bag, with adrenaline fueling me. But now, all I can think of is how nice a hot shower is going to feel on my already aching muscles.

  A hot shower with Tori, lathering each other up, as she makes other parts of me feel better . . .

  “Dude, where’d you just go? Are you okay?”

  Fuck, maybe this is going to be harder than I thought. If just the thought of a shower has me spacing out, then I’m going to be in big fucking trouble.

  I’ve never kept a thing from Jaxson or Maverick. We’ve told each other everything since we first started raising hell as kids. We knew early in life that we were the only ones we could trust. And now, in a matter of months, I have two huge secrets I can’t tell either of them.

  And it just now hit me how much that’s eating away at me.

  “Yeah. Sorry. Just a lot on my mind. Hence me kicking your heavy bag’s ass.”

  He studies me for a second, trying to get a handle on my bullshit meter. If anyone can read me, it’s this guy. But he doesn’t realize that I’ve been bullshitting him—and everyone else I care about—for months. What’s another secret on the list?

  “Are you sure? You’ve been acting off lately. You’ve always been an asshole, but the last few months, you’ve been even more surly than normal. You know you can talk to me, right?”

  I do know that. But it doesn’t mean I will.

  “I’m good. Just a few things I need to work out for myself, though I appreciate the offer.”

  Maybe I’ve steered too much into the asshole skid. I should probably tone it down a bit to get everyone off my ass.

  Before he can dig too much deeper, I take off my gloves and grab my water, needing to get out of the gym before I end up dumping a whole lot on Jaxson that I just can’t reveal right now.

  “I’ve got to get back to the garage. I’ll see you this weekend.”

  “Yup. Oh, I forgot to ask you: how did your trip with Tori go?”

  I stop, and although earlier I didn’t know how I would answer this question, now I do.

  “Honestly? It wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.”

  13

  Tori

  “Here you go. One Extra Perk soy chai latte with an extra—shit!”

  This is now the third drink I’ve dropped today. Which is completely unlike me.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ll go make you another, and I’ll get you a refund.”

  My apology apparently isn’t working judging by Bitchy McBitchFace’s eye roll, which was followed by her furiously typing on her phone, probably leaving a bad Yelp review.

  Well, guess what, lady? I’m super annoyed at you for ordering a drink that is the definition of extra. There should be a Yelp for customers.

  As I hand Bitchy McBitchFace her chai-whatever, I hear a snicker from the other end of the counter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  My best friend walks over, smiling like she knows the best secret in the world.

  Which I can guarantee she doesn’t.

  “You, my friend. You’re spilling drinks like you’re me. And when I was dropping drinks, it was because I was fantasizing about Jaxson. So, I now ask you, my dear friend, who has you so flustered it’s causing you to do your best impression of me?

  Shit, she’s closer to the secret than I thought.

  But she’s right. I’m acting exactly like she did when she was pining over her now-fiancé. Back when we still called him “Mr. Dark and Dangerous” because we didn’t know his name.

  Or his friends.

  Kalum . . .

  Yes, my secret fuck buddy with his magical tongue has me dropping drinks and acting like a freaking idiot. Two of the baristas asked me why I was smiling so much today. One tried to high-five me because he was convinced I got laid last night.

  I didn’t high-five him. But I totally did.

  It had been a week since I last saw Kalum, and I was beginning to think he was having second thoughts about our arrangement. I didn’t blame him. I was too. Slightly.

  But then he messaged me asking if he could come over. Judging by the fact that once again we didn’t make it farther than the doorway, I knew he was all in, and it chased away any concerns I had about keeping this secret from our friends.

  Just the thought of him bending me over my couch is enough to make me drop another drink.

  “It’s just an off day. I’m allowed to have one every once in a while, right?” I turn away from Annabelle, busying myself and hoping she won’t be able to see through my half-truth.

  “Yes, you are. Everyone is. You just usually don’t. And you haven’t told me about your trip to Wisconsin with Kalum. I figured I’d be getting the full debrief once you returned, but it’s been crickets. Did you two finally have sex? Did something horrible happen? Are you never speaking to each other again? Woman, I need to know these things.”

  Yes, Annabelle! It was horrible! He fucked me senseless and he did it again last night!

  “Nope. Everything went fine. Nothing big to report. We went. I saw people I went to school with. I nearly got in a fight with my former childhood best friend. Her husband tried to hit on me. Normal reunion stuff.”

  She’s about to press me further, but luckily the bell above the door rings, and I’ve never been so excited to serve a customer than I am right now.

  Until I realize it’s the cute businessman I gave my number to a few weeks ago. And judging by the smile on his face, he’s happy to see me. I just don’t know if the feeling is mutual.

  “Hi there, Tori. How are you today?”

  I give him a flirtatious smile, because that’s what I do. But for the first time in a very long while, it feels fake.

  “Hey there. I’m fine. What can I get you today?”

  I realize I don’t know his name. And I also notice that Annabelle has stepped aside and is watching like we’re her favorite episode of “Friends.”

  “Well, I was hoping for a small coffee, and for your forgiveness.”

  “Forgiveness? Why would you need to ask for that?”

  Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say.

  “Because I didn’t call you. I had to go out of town for business, and when I got back, my roommate had thrown away the coffee cup with your number on it. I kicked his ass in case you were wondering,” he cracks a smile, and I must admit, it’s a nice smile. But it’s not doing for me what it did a few weeks ago.

  “That’s okay. I was out of town too. No harm, no foul.”

  Please get the hint . . . please get the hint . . .

  “I disagree. A beautiful woman gave me her phone number and I didn’t call her. That requires at least dinner to make up for it. What do you say? Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  Fucking shit fuck.

  What am I supposed to say? If I were here alone, I’d let him down gently. Make up an excuse. Something. Because even though I kn
ow that Kalum and I aren’t exclusive, and aren’t in a relationship, I just don’t feel right about accepting a date with someone when I can still feel another guy’s dick in me from this morning.

  But Annabelle is right here. And if I turn him down, she’ll be suspicious.

  Like I said . . . fucking shit fuck.

  “I’d love to. I’m sorry, I just realized I don’t even know your name.”

  “Ben.”

  “Ben. Nice to officially meet you. And while dinner sounds amazing, I promised my sister I’d babysit my nephew tomorrow night. Maybe some other time?”

  Shit. So close. I should have stopped after the bullshit excuse about babysitting Grant. Note to self: offer to babysit tomorrow night.

  “Definitely. I knew it was short notice, so you’d probably be busy. But now that I’m here, and we know each other’s names, do you mind if I get your number again? I’m not letting you out of this rain check.”

  I write my number down, knowing I need to do it. Otherwise, Annabelle will question why I—the queen of flirts—didn’t give my number to an attractive guy.

  “I’ll call you. I promise. Thanks for the coffee.” Ben gives me one more smile before he heads out of the coffee shop. And he’s not even two feet out the door before Annabelle is in front of me, smiling like she’s the damn Joker.

  “He’s hot.”

  “Aren’t you engaged?” I love my best friend, but I’d really love it if she left right about now. My mind is a hot mess.

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t be a wingwoman for my best friend.”

  “Wingwoman? Girl, you just watched from the sidelines.”

  “I was here for moral support.”

  As Annabelle starts listing all the reasons why I should go out with Businessman Ben, my phone vibrates in the pocket of my apron.

  Kalum: When do you get off?

  Me: With you? Usually in about 10 minutes.

  Kalum: 10 minutes? I feel like I need to improve on that time.