Overslept it is.
It’s boring but convincing.
Rex is a night owl and works on his video games at night. Players are most active at night, and he chats with the gamers testing his game. Last night after dinner, I set the alarm on his phone, so he wouldn’t oversleep, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he slept through it.
I call him again.
No answer.
I slide on my heels.
Call him again.
No answer.
I grab my clutch and check my reflection in the mirror. I woke up early to give myself enough time to get ready for brunch before the wedding. My hair is straightened and parted down the middle. I’m wearing my contacts, and I did my makeup. My dress and heels are black again.
I take both key cards from the dresser and head to Rex’s room. After banging on the door six times with no answer, I shrug, unlock the door, and let myself in.
“You’d better wake your butt up!” I shout before lowering my voice in case any of his room neighbors are family. “No way am I facing these people alone, especially before food and coffee are in my system!”
The door slams shut behind me. His bed is empty, the blankets and sheets rustled, and I spot his phone charging on the nightstand. I toss my clutch onto the bed and move to the bathroom when I hear the shower running. The door is ajar, and just as I’m about to yell at him to hurry it up, I freeze. My mouth drops open, my fingers flying to my parted lips, and I stumble back.
Oh my freaking God.
My heart thrashes against my chest at the sight.
A slight fog is steamed over the glass shower door, but I see him. I fixate on the lean, powerful body as water cascades down his every muscle. Rex isn’t only showering. No, his hand is wrapped around his hard cock, lazily stroking it. When his fingers reach the head, he turns his grip while releasing a deep, guttural groan. His free hand is flattened against the tiled shower wall, and his head is tipped down, concentrated on his stroking.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
My fingers move from my lips to my throat, caressing it.
I wish I could join him.
I smack myself in the forehead.
That can’t happen, Carolina.
My nipples ache when his hand speeds up and his moans release in harsh pants. I press my thighs together, a heavy throb hitting me, and my fingertips tingle with the need to slide into my panties. Rex is so focused on his pleasure; maybe he wouldn’t notice me pleasuring myself back.
I smack myself in the forehead again to knock some sense into me.
No! Bad Carolina!
No touching yourself while your best friend jacks off.
Watching him is terrible enough.
Invasion of privacy much?
What do I do?
Run out of here?
Yes. Walk away!
My heart tightens when his head drops back, and he moans out his release. His next moan snaps me out of my Rex is jacking off in front of me trance. I gain control of my thoughts, and my breathing is labored as I scurry to the bed. I can’t stop myself from rubbing my thighs together, wishing I could run to my room and relieve myself.
I’ve always been attracted to Rex.
I’ve always wanted him.
I’ve never wanted him as bad as this though.
I need to pull myself together and not act like I watched him jerk off when he comes out.
Cool. Calm. Collected.
My hands shake when I collect my phone from my clutch and pretend to concentrate on the screen, not bothering to unlock it, when the shower turns off.
“Jesus, Carolina!” Rex bursts out when he strides into the bedroom. “You scared the shit out of me.”
He’s wearing only a towel that covers his bottom half. Water drips down his six-pack, and my eyes close in on the V that trails down to the cock I was stalking seconds ago.
My pulse races, and there’s no doubt my cheeks are flushed red.
Do not look like you were just watching him jack off in the shower.
I chew on my lip and can’t look him in the eye. “Uh …” I scramble for words, and they come out between rapid breaths. “I came to wake you up. I just got here. I sat down, haven’t moved from this spot. Didn’t realize you were in the shower … most definitely didn’t see anything.” I pat the bed with shaking fingers. “I’ve been right here, on my phone, waiting for you to get out. I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt your shower. You know how rude shower interruptions are?”
He eyeballs me strangely. “What’s up with you? Why are you rambling?”
He’s as calm as a cucumber. The worry he caught me watching him fades. All I need to do now is act natural, so he doesn’t suspect his best friend is a creep.
Now that I’m in the clear, my goal is erasing the memory of him in the shower from my mind.
Yeah, probably not happening.
My gaze flicks to his, and I fidget with my ring. “I’m a rambler. You know this.”
“True, but only when you’re nervous,” he replies with a pointed look.
“I’m nervous about this stupid wedding.”
He rakes his hand through his damp hair and nods, accepting my excuse. “Let me get dressed. I’ll be ready in fifteen.”
He steps forward to kiss me on top of my head, and I nearly lose my shit. Since I’m sitting, his barely covered junk is smack dab in front of my face. My mouth waters. When we had sex, I never looked at his cock. If I had seen the size, I would’ve chickened out.
I hold in a breath when he pulls back, and my eyes follow him as he travels across the room. He gathers his suit from the closet and takes it to the bathroom. Thoughts of him naked in there stay in my mind, causing me to blush.
Will I always think about him naked now?
There’s no better approach to get my mind out of the gutter than to talk to my parents. I send my mom a text, saying we’ll be down in twenty minutes and to save us two seats. Rex returning in his suit, looking as hot as ever, doesn’t help control my desire for him. The black suit is tailored to his body. I smile. I told him I was doing all black, and he matched me.
Rex throws his arm over my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
My voice is raspy when I reply, “Let’s do this.”
The same hand he was stroking his cock with finds my hand, and my cheeks change from a blush to bright red.
“I don’t believe it,” my cousin, Lindsay, sneers after cornering me in the restroom.
I hit the cousin jackpot because Lindsay is just as evil as Faye. They’re cousin besties. At least with Faye, I only have to see her here. Lindsay lives in Blue Beech. She’s two years younger than me and gorgeous, but her attitude makes her hideous. I do my best to avoid her. Some people love living in a small town because their family is there.
Me? Not so much.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my parents and sister.
And my grams—minus the whole constantly-asking-why-I’m-single thing.
That’s pretty much it.
“What are you talking about?” I ask even though I have an inkling where this is going.
“I don’t believe you are dating Rex,” she practically snarls. “Unless it’s been for, like, ten minutes, you’re lying. He was having sleepovers with my roommate recently.” She tilts her head to the side, a phony smile working over her lips. “There was no mention of a girlfriend.”
Ugh. I have to deal with this before they’ve even delivered brunch to the table?
“It’s new,” I answer, proud of how relaxed I sound. “I know all about his past sleepovers with your roomie. It was twice, five months ago, when we weren’t dating.” I tilt my head to the side, imitating her earlier position.
She snorts. “Whatever. Everyone knows Rex will do anything for you, like, say, pretend to be your boyfriend because you can’t get one yourself.”
It’s not that I can’t get a boyfriend. Guys ask me out, but they’re never anyone I see myself sh
aring a future with.
Why waste my time?
I clench my fists. My parents can’t ground me for smacking chicks now.
“Piss off,” I snarl. “Go back to the guy you’re playing side-chick with while he shares a bed with his wife every night.”
Normally, I’m not a snotty bitch, but my cousins bring out the best in me.
I push past her, leave the restroom, and order a mimosa as soon as I sit down.
Time to get buzzed in celebration of Faye’s love.
10
Rex
I squeeze Carolina’s thigh in an attempt to stop her laughter—or at least calm it down—and I tilt my head down to whisper in her ear, “Carolina.”
She snorts between laughs. “They seriously did not just call each other their pet names in their vows.” She shoves her face into my neck to mask her giggles. “I can’t. Oh my God, I can’t.”
“Shh …” I repeat.
Scowls turn in our direction.
“And terrible pet names at that,” she adds.
Goose bumps rise along my skin when her wet lips brush against my neck.
“Do me a favor.” She draws back to peek up at me. “If you ever hear me call a boyfriend Tubba Wubba, I give you permission to drown me in your parents’ pool.”
It’s a struggle to hold back my chuckles. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”
Disapproving looks come from the people in our row, and I reply with an apologetic one.
“Good.” Carolina lowers her voice. “This wedding is lame, and the Tubba Wubba newlyweds need their alone time.”
She’s not wrong. This wedding has been a complete joke. The bride’s walk down the aisle was a fifteen-minute affair, and their vows have been a good twenty minutes. How no one is sleeping is beyond me.
“How many mimosas have you had?” I ask.
“Not enough to let me forget those god-awful vows,” she answers around a hiccup.
I grab her neck when she laughs louder and pull her face against my chest again. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
I’ve missed goofy Carolina.
She glances up at me after getting a handle on herself and taps my chest. “Technically, I brought you.”
“Fine, I can’t tag along with you anywhere.”
While everybody is focused on the wedding, we’re in our own little world.
Good thing we sat in the back.
Carolina talks a lot of shit about me flirting when she does a fair share of it herself.
Only she doesn’t realize she’s doing it.
Call me selfish, but I’ve scared off every friend who’s shown interest in her.
They don’t deserve her.
I left her alone for five minutes to get our drinks, and some lame dick has stolen my chair. A lame dick sporting an ill-fitting gray striped suit like he’s some D-list mob boss.
I place our drinks in front of him on the table and wrap my arms around Carolina’s shoulders from behind while she sits in her chair. “Hey, baby.”
She smiles up at me. “Hi.”
I hold my hand out for Lame Dick to shake and refrain from ripping it off his fucking arm when he does. “I’m Rex, her boyfriend.”
Lame Dick’s eyes widen. “Ah, dude, I didn’t know.”
He knew.
He’s been eye-fucking her all day, and since Carolina is my girlfriend this weekend, I’ve touched her and acted like her boyfriend.
“Now, you do.” My attention moves to Carolina as I offer her my hand. “Dance with me.”
She grins. “Oh, I guess.”
I pull her to her feet and turn her around, so we’re facing each other as soon as we hit the dance floor. I drag her close, my palms resting against the base of her back. Turns out, she wasn’t drunk on mimosas. She was only tipsy, and I made her suck down water as soon as the wedding ceremony ended. Her tipsiness has nearly worn off.
My chest constricts as I stare down at her and release what’s been on the tip of my tongue all day. “You’re the most gorgeous girl here.”
She’s wearing her contacts, showing off her round brown eyes. Her black dress hugs every curve of her body, and curves is something Carolina has plenty of. Her heels don’t bring her near to my height. She’s short, which I love because it’s easy to drag her head into my chest and kiss the top of her head.
It’s one of my favorite things to do.
No matter what, I love my hands on her—whether it’s an arm around the shoulders or hugging her face into my chest. I’m happy as hell that, on this trip, I get to do more than a simple arm draped around the shoulders, and I’ve been taking full advantage of that. Tonight, I’m being as handsy as I want.
I drop a hand to her waist, drawing her closer, and my other goes to her hand, weaving our fingers together as we dance.
She laughs when a sappy country song plays. “You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”
“And for the time being, your boyfriend,” I correct. “I don’t have to say that either. It’s the truth. If I were at the singles table and looking for a girl to corrupt, I would’ve done what the douche bag wearing the lame suit did and came to your table to hit on you.”
Her hand briefly leaves mine when she slaps my shoulder. “He was harmless.”
I raise a brow. “He wasn’t harmless. He was talking to my girlfriend.”
“I wasn’t interested in him.” She wraps her arms around my neck, resting them on my shoulders, and laughs again—this time louder. “I don’t even know how to flirt.”
She tips her head forward, her eyes meeting mine, and I brush my lips against her forehead.
“Oh, babe,” I say around a chuckle, “you most definitely know how to flirt. You just don’t realize you’re flirting.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”
“You do.” My grip tightens on her hips. “When you laugh at something someone says, your face is bright and shows how real you are. When you speak, you allow every emotion to pour out of you. Your amazing heart shows in every move you make, and someone would be dumb not to want that in their life.” I run my hands up and down her waist, and she shivers beneath my fingers. “I haven’t seen you flirt much, but I know when you’re doing it.”
Lies. She’s flirted with me plenty of times, but I haven’t seen her do it much with other guys.
“My flirt game sucks,” she mutters.
Heat creeps up my neck as she strokes the back of it with her fingers.
“Thank you for coming,” she says, her voice filled with tenderness. “I would’ve been miserable without you.”
I smile. “It’s my best-friend duty. You need me? I’m there.”
She laughs. “What’s my best-friend duty?”
I arch a brow, considering my options. “Hmm … I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
“Oh God,” she groans. “It’s going to be video games, isn’t it?”
“Possibly.” I squeeze her hips. “You love my video games.”
She grins up at me. “I love that you named the best woman character Carolina.”
“I actually changed that. You’re now the big, bad villain.”
She pinches the back of my neck, and I jerk forward.
“Whatever.” Her fingers rub the spot she pinched. “I thank the gods that you tried to bribe me that day. I would’ve been sitting miserable in the corner.”
“I thank the gods you gave me shit and allowed me to corrupt you.”
The music stops, and I dip her back.
“Thanks for the dance, Tubba Wubba.”
She narrows her eyes at me when I drag her back up. “I’m poisoning your cookies, FYI.”
My elbow is grabbed on my way back to Carolina after a restroom break.
“Hey, handsome,” a high-pitched voice purrs—trying and desperately failing at being seductive.
Lindsay, a girl from school and another one of Carolina’s cousins, stands in front of me.
Poor Carolina was blesse
d with some demon-ass family members.
Lindsay brushes a strand of brown hair behind her ear and thrusts her chest forward. “It’s so sweet of you to come with Carolina and play her date.”
I pluck her fingers off me as if she has Ebola and glare at her. “No, I came because I’m dating Carolina. No playing here.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please. Everyone knows you’ll do anything for her—be her prom date, take her on pity dates, fake being in a relationship with her—for God knows what reason.”
My jaw clenches. “I take her out on dates because I love her, not for fucking pity.”
“You play the part so well,” she throws back, “yet not once have you kissed her … not on the lips at least.” With this, she puckers her lips and kicks out her foot, showing her bare leg through the slit of her green dress. “Not to mention, you were in my roommate’s bed not too long ago. Did you forget about that? Either you were cheating on Carolina or, as I suspect, you’re lying so that she doesn’t look pitiful, hence the pity date.”
“Your roommate was more of a pity date than Carolina will ever be,” I snarl, my nostrils flaring.
How dare she call Carolina a fucking pity.
“As for you,” I go on, “you’ve flirted with me how many times and haven’t managed to snag yourself a pity date?”
I hate being a dick, but fuck this.
Fuck them for treating Carolina like shit when she has a heart of gold. When Lindsay’s mother was down with shingles for a month, Carolina put together a fundraiser dinner for her. She also made cookies for them countless times and dropped them off at her house.
Scorn passes over Lindsay’s face, and just as she’s about to speak, my name being called cuts her off.
“Hey! Rex!”
I glance back to find Carolina’s father, Rick, along with two other men approaching me.
Shit!
I scan the room for Carolina and grind my teeth when I spot the group of women circled around her. All conversation is aimed in her direction, and my body turns rigid when she gulps down a glass of champagne in one swig.
Goddamn it!
Carolina is a terrible drinker.
Just Friends (Blue Beech) Page 8