Straight Up (Twisted Fox Book 3)

by Charity Ferrell

  Cassidy laughs and drops to one knee, so she’s at his level. “That’s awesome! I bet your Batman costume was way cooler than mine.”

  Noah’s face lights up as he eats up her attention.

  Tugging on my mask, I stare at them, devouring the scene. She’s talking to Noah, giving him her full attention, and my breathing catches in my throat. Never have I been turned on by seeing a woman with a child, but watching Cassidy and the way she throws her head back laughing while talking to him is hot.

  “What’s up, big man?” Silas asks, slapping me on the back—knocking me out of my Cassidy trance.

  I burst into laughter as I turn to him. “Dude, what the hell are you wearing?”

  And I thought my costume was bad.

  “What?” Silas grunts, his lips parting into a grin. “Don’t be jealous of my ensemble.” He performs a move similar to what Noah did.

  “I’m far from jealous.” I shake my head, feeling embarrassed for him.

  “Lola,” Silas shouts, wrapping his hands around his mouth. “Lincoln is talking crap about my costume!”

  Silas’s leaf-covered romper makes sense when I see Lola wearing a matching dress. At least Cassidy didn’t decide for us to be Adam and Eve. A jumpsuit was pushing it. My ass will never be in a romper. I don’t care how much Cassidy begs me.

  Lola smooths her hands down her long black hair before playfully flipping me off. “Don’t be jealous that Silas can show off his legs.”

  I snort. “Silas can definitely be the romper-wearer of our group.”

  “I’m going to miss this,” Grace whines, peering over at Georgia and plopping down cross-legged on the floor. “Miss us hanging out here, drinking wine, gossiping, and watching reruns of Schitt’s Creek.”

  Georgia, who’s sitting on Archer’s lap in a chair, peers at Grace with sad eyes. “You can come over anytime you want for wine time or just move in with us.”

  “Whoa,” Archer grunts behind her. “Where’s she going to sleep? The couch?”

  “No, we’ll add a bedroom to the penthouse,” Georgia replies.

  “Yeah, that’ll be easy to do on the top floor of a building,” I comment.

  Grace’s shoulders droop. “It’s fine. I’ll just move in with my parents or something.”

  “Why?” Cassidy asks, shooting a glance to Jamie. “Did you sell the place?”

  Jamie rented out the townhouse to the girls after moving in with Cohen.

  “Nope,” Jamie answers. “It’s all love’s fault.”

  Cassidy’s head tilts to the side in question.

  “Here soon, Georgia is going to move in with Archer,” Grace explains before narrowing her eyes at Lola. “And my other best friend won’t fill in the roomie role.”

  “Uh, I can’t just break my lease.” Lola stares at her with apology. “If I had an open room, I’d so give it to you.”

  “I told you, I won’t move out until we find you another roommate,” Georgia says.

  “I can move in,” Cassidy says. Her cheeks redden as all attention turns to her. “I mean, if that’s okay with you? I live alone but am down for having a roommate.”

  Grace’s face lights up. “Really?”

  Cassidy nods repeatedly. “Really.”

  Grace squeals before jumping to her feet and hugging Cassidy. “Yay! Georgia moves out next week, and then the room is all yours. Tell me what you can afford rent-wise, and we’ll work something out.”

  “Shit, Grace would let you move in for free,” Finn inputs.

  “See! There you go!” Georgia throws out her arms. “Everything worked out, and you don’t have to move back in with your parents.”

  “This calls for a toast,” Finn announces. “Everyone, to the kitchen!”

  Cohen stands, holding his hand out to Jamie, and pulls her up while she groans. Cassidy loops her arm around mine, and we follow everyone to the kitchen. Finn and Lola start passing out drinks.

  “All right,” Finn calls out, “grab your beers, your wine”—he stops to glance at Noah and Jamie—“your Capri Sun and seltzer water and hold them in the air.”

  Noah’s grin takes over his entire face at being included and raises his arm as high as he can.

  Finn lifts his beer. “To friendships, to roommates, to Halloween. May we always celebrate our holidays together—even if it’s days later—and always have each other’s backs.”

  “Hell yeah,” Silas says.

  At the same time, everyone else shouts, “Cheers!”

  “Georgia is moving in, huh?” Cassidy asks as everyone starts conversing. “Looks like you’ll be third-wheeling all the time.”

  I shrug. “I don’t mind. Archer is happier when Georgia is around. A plus for me. Georgia also doesn’t mind making coffee runs. Another plus.”

  Georgia brings life into my brother, is a blast, and even helps when I’m feeling down. I’m happy my brother has found a great partner.

  “Just wait until we start dating and I move in with you.” Cassidy winks, gently elbowing me. “We can go on all the coffee runs together.”

  I chuckle. After the kiss, our jokes hit differently. I can see it in her face when I make an innuendo, and I’m sure she sees it in mine. There’s now an underlying realization that it’s not just joking. It’s more.

  “If you agree to coffee runs, tell Grace she’s losing her roommate now, and you can sleep on the couch.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Your bed or no new roommate.”

  “Charades time!” Grace yells. “Let’s get teams together.”

  Grabbing our drinks, we return to the living room, where we play charades until everyone is yawning. A few years ago, I’d have called something like this lame—it’s something I’d have laughed at—but not anymore. I actually enjoy this shit.

  In the past, my idea of good times with friends was expensive clubs, traveling abroad, or snorting lines.

  “You need a ride home?” I ask Cassidy as the townhome starts clearing out.

  “Obviously.” She smacks my arm. “You picked me up. You’re responsible for getting me home.”

  “Like your babysitter.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of like your date.”

  Her words smack into me like a train. If you looked up the definition of date in the dictionary, it’d be what I’ve done tonight—drove to her house, picked her up, and attended a party together. Sure, during the drive, I told myself I was picking up a friend, but it’s growing harder and harder to keep up with that lie.

  Neither of us has mentioned our three-second kiss at Archer’s party—shocking, considering Cassidy loves talking about everything, especially conversations I’d kill to avoid. You don’t kiss people unless you’re attracted to them or have feelings for them. If she asks me why I kissed her, I’d have to admit to both of those reasons.

  I say my good-byes while Cassidy gives out hugs and tells Jamie that she can’t wait to meet her little girl.

  By the time we’re walking to my car, our masks are off, and her cape is balled up in her hands. As soon as she slides into the passenger seat, she starts a series of yawns.

  “Ugh,” she moans around another yawn. “I could sleep for nine straight days and still be exhausted.”

  I crank up the heat and our seat warmers. “You been partying too hard?”

  She works all the time, but she could be fitting in clubs and parties in her spare time. If she does, she never talks about it.

  She shakes her head, rubbing at her eyes. “Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Why not?”

  “Maybe it’s the apartment … living alone …” She tips her head down and studies her red nails. “At first, it was nice. Now, it’s just … weird sometimes.”

  She’s not telling me everything. I know when Cassidy is holding back.

  “Why? Your neighbor giving you a bad vibe?”

  “No, not at all,” she rushes out. “All my life, I’ve been surrounded by people, and now, I’m not. It’s diffe
rent, is all.” Perking up in her seat, she releases a ragged breath. “We made a pretty good Batwoman and Robin tonight, huh?”

  I chuckle. “Gotta say, with the exception of Buzz Lightyear, we had the best costumes tonight.”

  “Team Batwoman and Robin for the win.” She holds out her fist, and I bump mine against it before she pulls the seat belt across her body. “Now, this superhero needs her beauty sleep.”

  “Aye aye, boss.”

  I shift the car into drive, and it’s a short ride to her duplex. Without a word, I unbuckle my seat belt, step out of the car, and open Cassidy’s door—all date-style even though this isn’t a date, right? My hand finds the base of her back when she steps out, and as we stroll side by side to her unit.

  During the drive home, worry followed me with every mile over her comment about not sleeping well. I could be reading too much into it, but there has to be a reason. At times, I’ve slept terribly, but it’s always been because of underlying issues. I’m almost tempted to invite her to my place and give her my bed while I take the couch.

  My hand doesn’t leave her back until we walk into her apartment, and she starts flipping on the lights. Her apartment is small and doesn’t display much of her character. A deep red sectional rests against the living room wall with furry white pillows scattered along it. There’s miscellaneous pink and feminine wall art. Across the room is the kitchen and an area where a pub table sits.

  Cassidy shoves away a few pillows, collapses onto the couch, and eyeballs me, her gaze sharp and searching. “All right, Callahan, are we ever going to talk about our kiss, or shall we act like it never happened?” Her tone is clear—no bullshit, no beating around the bush.

  My chest seizes with pain, and I force a laugh while attempting to calm my mind. “I was hoping we’d act like it never happened.”

  She sucks in a breath, disappointment clouding her features. “That sure makes a girl feel good.”

  I tug at the neck of my costume, wishing I could kick my own ass for kissing her. Not that there was no attraction or that I didn’t want to do more. No, I wanted to drag her to my bedroom and do more than watch TV and eat snacks. I wanted her to be my snack, wanted the movie to be the background noise while I fucked her in every position possible, and then I wanted to feed her breakfast in bed the next morning.

  Unfortunately, my dumbass has only managed to complicate our friendship.

  “My answer has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me,” I grind out, more disgusted with myself with each word of bullshit I deliver. With the time I’ve had, you’d think I’d have come up with a better reason for shutting us down.

  She cringes as if she’d been slapped in the face. “That’s a pretty crappy reason, by the way. I’ll take bullshit for three hundred dollars.”

  I throw up my arms before allowing them to fall to my sides. “Cass, right now, you’re pretty much my best friend.” I swallow hard at my confession, at me putting all my honesty out there. “I don’t want to fuck that up because we kissed. I don’t … I don’t want to lose you.” My voice breaks with the last two words the same way my soul would if our friendship turned sour.

  Even before my life changed, I never had fun with someone like I do with her. I never bantered, had witty conversations, found someone I could vocally spar with like I have with her. I never thought about someone so damn much. And I don’t want to lose her.

  She blinks at me. “Why would that mess things up?”

  “Kissing leads to feelings.” I rest my back against the door and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Feelings lead to problems, fallouts, hate.”

  Every relationship—scratch that—every hookup I’ve had has ended in messiness.

  She’s quiet for a moment, as if digesting my words. “Kissing can also lead to better.” She raises a brow and licks that plump bottom lip of hers. “Hotter things.”

  Fuck.

  I need to abort mission before this friendship of ours takes a leap into something not platonic … into something we both crave but shouldn’t. Continuing this conversation can only result in two outcomes: us kissing again—most likely hotter, as she said—or me pushing her away, resulting in her hating me. The weight of guilt presses against my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe as I mentally rifle through my options.

  Fixing my gaze on the woman I’m falling for, I take long strides across the room and stop abruptly in front of her. My neck strains as I stare down at her. Her gaze meets mine, her eyelids fluttering.

  I clear my throat, wanting to be as straightforward as possible. “Those hotter things come with risks.”

  She nods. “I’m aware.”

  “They can ruin us.”

  “They won’t.”

  “They will ruin you with any other man.”

  “I won’t ever need another man when I have you.”

  Her response is my undoing.

  Her confession deviates my train of thought, turning them from alarmed to desire. We hardly drank at the party tonight, so we can’t blame this on liquor tomorrow. This won’t be a night of fun we can pretend to forget in the morning. What happens in the next five minutes will solidify our relationship.

  I gulp before asking, “When you talk about us getting married, about us being together, you’re joking, right?”

  At first, it was fun and games for me.

  Flirting here and there.

  But somewhere along the way, it shifted into more than that.

  She chews on her bottom lip. “Yes and no.”

  Not the response I was searching for.

  My voice turns weak yet rugged simultaneously. “That’s not a clear answer.”

  Before I make any move, we need to be on the same page. I need to know where her head is. Maybe she’s looking for casual. I’m unsure if that’d be a relief or torment for me. If she says she’s joking, it would kill the thoughts in my head about her that shouldn’t be taking residence.

  “I mean …” She hums softly, as if searching for the appropriate words. “Yes, I joke about it—have since day one at Twisted Fox. In the beginning, it was innocent flirting, but the more time we spend together, the harder my heart races, and the more I like you, Lincoln.” She sighs, averting her gaze to the other side of the room and away from me. “Like really, really like you.”

  Tension and lust carry through the air.

  Heat spreads through my chest. I look at the ground before letting my gaze return to her face.

  To the flushed face that’s done nothing but consume my mind.

  “Tell me you feel it too, Linc,” she whispers.

  My head spins. “I do.”

  “Then do something about it.”

  She stands, as if in mutual understanding that this is happening. I catch her chin between my thumb and forefinger, caressing it as our gazes meet. Hers eager. Mine gentle.

  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” I say.

  She squeezes her eyes shut. “Me too.”

  That’s when I claim her lips.

  My claim is demanding and impulsive—a drink we’ve slowly sipped that we’re ready to fully consume. Her tongue darts into my mouth, colliding with mine, and we devour each other. Our lips meshed as one.

  I’m catching up on breaths as she breaks away. “My bedroom. Right now.”

  Yeah, I have no argument against that.

  Interlacing our hands, she leads me down the short hallway, through a doorway, and flicks on the light. Before I’m given the chance to look around, her lips are back on mine.

  While keeping our connection, I guide her to the bed before slowly pulling away, already missing the feel of her lips on mine. “I want to see you. All of you.”

  I retreat a step as she stands before me, intense emotion filling my lungs, and she slips me a sinful smirk before gesturing to her outfit.

  “Unzip me.”

  That’s when I realize we’re still in our costumes. I was so consumed by her that I forgot I was trying to seduce a woman
while wearing a damn Robin outfit.

  Yeah, this shit definitely needs to come off before it becomes a mood killer.

  As bad as I’m aching to unzip her dress and touch every inch of her, I need this damn thing off first. The room is quiet with the exception of our breathing—heavy and layered with need—and she watches in interest as I hastily kick off my shoes and undress. Flinging the costume across the room, I stand in front of her, wearing only boxer briefs. There’s no missing my rock-hard cock, standing at attention, confirming that all it wants is her.

  Since we started developing a connection, Cassidy has been the only woman on my mind as I jerked off, stroking myself as I imagined it was her hand instead of mine.

  I haven’t touched another woman.

  Kissed another woman.

  Thought about another damn woman.

  Cassidy has overtaken me.

  And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Her lips are swollen from our earlier kiss, and she swipes her tongue along the bottom one as her eyes level on my erection.

  That’s for you.

  All for you.

  “My turn,” she croaks. “But I need a little help.” Turning around, she slides her hair off her shoulder and stares over it at me.

  I gladly accept the invitation, advancing toward her, and I stop so close that my cock brushes along her leg, causing her to shiver. I shove the zipper down, listening to the loud zip, and the dress pools at her feet, giving me the best damn view ever. Cassidy wearing only a black lace thong and matching bra. Her ass cheeks perky.

  She gasps when I deliver a quick smack to each globe before cupping both, loving how they fill my hands to perfection.

  “Your ass is amazing,” I whisper into her ear, slowly licking along the lobe.

  Pressing my lips to her shoulder, I inch her bra strap down. A light hiss releases through her lips when I suck hard on her skin. It’ll most likely leave a hickey, and my dick stirs at the thought of marking her. Of making her mine.

  “Climb on the bed,” I say, releasing her and taking a step back.