She has a low tolerance and doesn’t know her limit.
Shockingly, Carolina’s parents haven’t interrogated her about our dating lie, although she hasn’t spent much alone time with them. No doubt they’ll drill her with questions when they have her by herself.
“What do you think, Rex?”
I’m broken away from my Carolina trance when the man next to me claps.
“Huh?” I ask, sweeping my attention over to the men.
“I asked your thoughts on violence in video games.” The man gestures to Rick. “He said you develop video games.”
“I don’t have much to say on that matter,” I answer with annoyance while searching the room for Carolina when I don’t see her with the women anymore.
I spot her at the bar in the corner of the room, taking a shot, and the bartender is pouring another. I don’t give them another word before turning on my heel and speed-walking in her direction. Before I get the chance to confiscate her next shot, she knocks it back.
“Hey, babe,” I greet, sliding my arms around her waist.
“Hey,” she half-slurs, signaling to the bartender for another.
I hold up my hand, stopping him. “She’s good, bro.”
“She’s not, bro,” she corrects with an eye roll. “Make it a double.” Her palm slaps the counter. “And get my friend one—sorry, my boyfriend one.” She flicks her hand in the air. “Not a double for him. His job is to take care of me tonight, and one needs to be sober to do that.”
I clutch her elbow and tug her away from the bar, and she’s talking shit as I walk us toward the exit.
“How much have you had to drink?” I question, swinging her around to face me.
She holds two fingers apart from each other and squints one eye to focus on them. “Just a wee bit.”
“How much is a wee bit?”
She wrinkles her nose, her hand dropping to her side. “I lost count at the third glass of champagne and second shot of …” Her finger goes to her lower lip, and she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Vodka maybe? It was something in a glass.”
“Jesus,” I hiss. “I leave you alone for five minutes.”
“Wrong. You left me alone for fifteen … with the sharks.” The sharks are the overbearing women in her family.
I raise my arms, apology spilling over my face. “I was cornered on my way back!”
“People already think we’re lying about being together. Let’s just prove them right.” Carolina also gets snarky when she drinks.
I reach out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go to your room.”
She smacks it away. “Let’s get me back to the bar, and you can go back to chatting with my cousin.”
Perfect. She saw me talking to Lindsay.
“We’re not doing this here.” I grip her hand, make sure she’s steady, and weave us through the people.
“Bye, Rex! Call me sometime!”
Carolina halts at Lindsay’s farewell. Knowing this might be a shitshow, I attempt to pull her away, but Carolina stands firm.
Lindsay is dumb enough to continue taunting Carolina, and she chirps out her words. “It was so nice seeing you and catching up. Want to hang out tomorrow? Grab breakfast?”
“Fuck you,” Carolina snarls, startling everyone. She points at me while holding strong eye contact with Lindsay. “You look dumb, hitting on a guy who’s coming to my room. He might’ve entertained your corner conversation for five minutes, but he entertains my bed.” She holds her middle finger up. “I win.”
I bite back my laughter. “Jesus, let’s get you out of here.”
Thankfully, she allows me to take her to the elevator, and her eyes are narrowed at me the entire ride. When we hit our floor, I take her key from my pocket and unlock the door.
“Entertain your bed, huh?” I ask as soon as we walk into the room and tilt my head toward the bed. “Is this the bed I’m doing that in?”
She falls back against the mattress and starts taking her heels off, tossing them across the room. “I have no idea what I meant, but it sounded better in my head.”
“It sounded like you told her I was going to fuck you in that bed of yours.” My cock hardens at the thought.
“I have no regrets. We’re dating, so it’s assumed we’re banging, considering you’re … well, you.”
“I won’t take that as an insult.” I clap my hands and rub them together. “Where are your pajamas?”
Her head jerks toward the dresser. “Folded in that thing.”
“Of course they are, you organized freak, you.”
“Hey,” she whines. “An organized life is a happy life.” She releases a heavy sigh. “When you were in the restroom, they asked me why I dropped out of school in sixteen different ways.” All the playfulness and snark in her tone has dissolved, sadness clouding her features.
“What’d you say?”
She shuts her eyes, a slow breath releasing from her chest. “My mind went blank. I might’ve said something about joining the circus.”
I stare at her in regret. “I’ll never leave you with those vultures again. Promise.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t, but tonight, you chose alcohol to help you. Replace me with alcohol next time, okay?” Replace me with alcohol every time.
She salutes me, a glimmer of a smile on her lips. “Got it, captain.”
I sift through her drawer, and my heart jolts as I ease out an unfamiliar item. “Now, my sweet Carolina, I thought I’d seen all your pajamas. Turns out, you’ve been hiding these.” I hold the nearly see-through blue lacy teddy in the air.
A blush covers her face before she buries it in her hands. “You’re not supposed to see that! It’s for bedroom eyes only!”
I hold it out, inspecting it. “Next time you spend the night, your ass had better be wearing this.”
“Not happening.” Her hands leave her face, and she shakes her head. “It’s uncomfortable and meant to be quickly taken off. Then, it stays off.”
I lean back against the dresser, crossing my ankles, and lift the teddy in the air. “Why’d you bring it? Who did you plan to wear it for … or take it off for?” My mouth turns dry at my question.
Did she plan on hooking up with someone here?
She sucks on her lower lip. “I don’t know … in case I met someone. I didn’t plan for you to play my boyfriend.”
I hold a finger up. “Stop right there, young lady. You’re either going to make me jealous or have my imagination running wild.” Too late. I run my fingers over the lace while my mind starts racing of thoughts in her wearing this teddy.
She grabs a pillow and throws it at me. “Whatever. You’d see me as one of your guy friends wearing that.”
“You’ve never been more wrong in your life,” I grumble around a gulp after dodging the pillow.
“What if I wear it now?”
I snort. “Funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Isn’t that what a girlfriend would do? And this weekend, I’m your girlfriend.” Challenge spills along her words. “Oh, wait. You can’t be my boyfriend if you were screwing Lindsay’s roommate not too long ago.”
I shove the teddy back into one drawer and open the one underneath it, finding a pair of sweats and a white tank top. “That’s why you’re pissed?”
“Duh. My date has been screwing other women.”
“Screwed. Haven’t touched her roommate in months, and I’m not touching anyone here. Since when do you believe your cousins? What the hell?”
“Forget it,” she huffs out.
I set her pajamas on the edge of the bed and rest my knee next to them, halfway crawling up the mattress until our faces are only inches apart. Cupping hers with both my hands, I run my thumb over her soft, freckle-kissed cheek and then pull myself up. “Now, stand and get your pajamas on.”
“Fine,” she whines, sliding off the bed, “but I need
you to unzip me.”
A shiver runs up my spine when I stand behind her and stare at the zipper running down the back of her dress. The room turns silent; the only sound I hear is my raging heartbeat. My fingers are tense when I grab the zipper of her dress, dragging it down, and the dress pools around her feet in what seems like slow motion. I draw in a breath, unable to stop myself from taking her in.
Jesus.
Standing in front of me is my best friend … wearing only a nude-colored thong. Her skin warms at my touch as I stupidly and bravely brush my fingers along her waist. Her breathing shudders, and she grinds back into me, rubbing her ass against the erection I shouldn’t have.
“Rex,” she whispers.
I fight with myself on why I’m being such an idiot when I skim my hand along the bottom of her bare breast. Why the hell wasn’t she wearing a bra? Good thing I didn’t know, or it’s all I would’ve thought about tonight.
She tilts her head to the side. “My necklace.”
As my fingers stroke the bottom of her breast, I use my other hand to sweep her hair off her shoulder and unclasp the pearl necklace I bought her for Christmas. Our connection stays when I carefully set the necklace onto the bed. Never has my heart pounded so intensely when I replace my hand resting on her neck with my lips, skimming them along her soft skin.
“Tell me to stop,” I hiss. “Fuck, Lina. Tell me.”
11
Carolina
“Tell me to stop. Fuck, Lina. Tell me.”
My heart races at Rex’s pleas, but I’m selfish. That word isn’t leaving my lips tonight. I don’t want him to stop. I want more—of his touch, of his lips, of everything that is him. The deep breaths pulling from his chest and his erection pressing against my back confirm I’m not alone in my desire.
His lips linger at the curve of my neck while he waits for me to push him away, to say no. When his hand grazes the underside of my breast again, I can’t stop myself from grinding my ass against him.
Big mistake.
Huge.
All this in Julia Roberts’s voice.
It’s as if my move wakes his restraint and slaps him in the face with reality.
His hands drop from my body as if I’d caught fire, and he jerks away, fleeing to the other side of the room. I glance back over my shoulder to find him resting against the dresser, agony lining his features, and he presses a fist against his lips.
“Shit, Carolina,” he finally chokes out. “I’m so damn sorry.”
A brief silence passes, as if we’re both battling our next move. My back stays to him while I stand by the bed. Rejection doesn’t exactly make a girl want to put her boobs on display. He already has a view of my bare butt.
My gaze sharpens when he slowly eases my way and swipes the tee off the bed. A brief pause happens before he advances a step farther. I can’t stop myself from laughing when he slips the shirt over my head, and as soon as the job is done, he promptly returns to his side of the room. When I turn around, there’s no missing the anguish on his face.
He frowns, dragging a hand through his thick hair, and releases a long breath of frustration. “That wasn’t cool. I’m sorry.”
I shift from one foot to the other, pulling at the bottom of the shirt while chewing on my lower lip. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Rex.” Heat creeps up my cheeks. “In fact, I highly encourage you to keep touching me. Don’t stop.”
He gapes at me. “You’re drunk. Not happening.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m tipsy.” I smirk. “It won’t be the first time I’ve had tipsy sex.”
His upper lip snarls, and his words leave in a deep hiss. “Don’t even think about going on about that shit.” His tone hardens. “Conversation change, motherfucking pronto.”
I gesture down my body. “I’m standing upright with no assistance from you, nor am I slurring my words or puking my guts out. I’m not drunk.” To further prove my point, I hold a leg up, standing on only one while doing my best to balance myself, before repeating it with the other leg. I end my move with a ta-da gesture.
My awesome skill doesn’t change his mind.
“I’m not ruining us by having sex.” He rubs the nape of his neck while cursing under his breath.
“Just like with my virginity, we’ll act like it never happened,” I argue.
Why do I suddenly want this so much?
Is it because I spied on him while he jerked off, and I can’t stop seeing it in my mind?
Or because I’m having such a good time with the boyfriend-girlfriend game we’re playing, and I want it in real life?
Is it the alcohol giving me the bravery?
I’d say a mix of the three.
He stepped up and played boyfriend.
Defended me.
I love and want Rex for all those reasons and more.
Who cares if it’ll change our relationship?
It might even make it stronger.
“We’re not teenagers,” he fires back. “There’s no acting like it didn’t happen. Shit has changed, and shit will change for the worse if we cross that line. I guarantee it.”
I pout my lips. “Please. I promise, no changing us.”
Rex has always had a weakness for my whining.
“No.” His voice is stern as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Come on. Let’s get your pajamas on, so you can get some sleep. You’re going to feel like shit in the morning.”
Nope.
I was taught not to give up so easily.
I cross my arms. “I need a shower.”
He blinks. “Excuse me?”
“I need a shower.”
“Take a shower then.”
“Since I’m so drunk, I probably need your help.” My imagination flickers to watching him in the shower earlier, and my skin tingles at the thought of us sharing one.
“Shower in the morning when you’re sober.”
“You can stop telling me what to do now.” I plow my hands into my hair before dragging the strands out. “I need to wash this hairspray out.”
“Stick your head in the sink and wash it out.”
“Um, negative. I might drown.”
He groans. “Fine.”
I grin.
He shifts to the side, making room so I can pass him, and I peek back to check that he’s following me and not making a run for it.
Let him run.
I have a key to his room, and I’ll just take a shower in his bathroom.
See how much he likes the idea of switching keys then.
He trails behind me … looking as though he’s on the way to a torture chamber instead of a fun shower.
That’s awesome.
I frown, my stomach twisting, and stop in my tracks, causing him to trip into me.
What if he truly doesn’t want to sleep with me?
What if he’s not attracted to me like that, and he’s using our friendship as a cop-out, as a vagina block?
Oh my God.
There’s no doubt I was a sucky lay when we banged, but you can’t blame a girl. I was a virgin!
He should understand I was a sex newbie, but maybe he thinks I’ll lie there like a boring starfish again.
But what the heck? I was nervous!
Surely, he’s taken that into account of my suckiness.
He grabs my waist before either of us face-plants, pushes me into the bathroom, and remains in the doorway—displeasure on his face. His eyes are everywhere but on me when I pull my shirt over my head and drop it to the tiled floor. My nipples harden at my sudden nakedness. I slide down my panties, curious where this courage is coming from. His eyes stay pinned to the ceiling as if he were waiting for it to collapse on us.
I open the shower door while frowning at him for not offering the attention I’m seeking. I clear my throat and bend down to turn on the water, but nothing.
The ceiling is apparently more exciting than my naked body.
What does a girl have to do to get ogled around here?
<
br /> “Uh … can you help me inside?” I ask.
His dark eyes finally cut to me, and he frowns while taking in my naked body. “It’s best you shower tomorrow.”
“Nope,” I quip before holding out my hand and wiggling it. “Help, please and thank you.”
He takes two steps forward, erasing the distance between us, catches my hand, and assists me in the shower. My shoulders relax when the warm water hits my skin. I tilt my head back, allowing the water to stream down my face. When I’m good and soaked, I wipe the water from my face, smooth back my hair, and stare at him in expectation—ready for him to join me.
The door is cracked, and he’s standing outside it. His head is tipped down, his focus now on his feet, and him wearing his suit is a sure sign he’s not shower ready.
“Seriously?” I groan. “How are you going to help me shower from out there?”
He lifts his gaze, but it still doesn’t roam over my body. “You asked for help. Not for me to join you.”
Don’t two and two go together?
“I wasn’t aware clarification was necessary.” I clear my throat and deepen my voice. “This is a formal invitation for you, Rex Lane, to join me for a warm shower. Snacks will be provided, and you get a complimentary wash.”
“Invitation respectively declined.”
“You can’t stand there with the door open!”
“Tell me when you need help, and I’ll stick my hand in the shower.” He shrugs. “Simple.”
“Okay, Stretch Armstrong, that’s absurd.”
“Not absurd. Smart.”
“All right then. I need help.”
When he sticks his hand into the shower, I grab it and pull his body halfway in with me. Before he gets the opportunity to yank back, I capture his ear with two fingers.
“Get your butt in this shower right now, Rex Peyton Lane!”
This is the most awkward conversation we’ve ever had.
Hell, this is the most awkward conversation I’ve had, period.
He attempts to pull away, but I tighten my ear-hold.
“Are you seriously grabbing my damn ear right now, Carolina? This is best-friend abuse!”
“Absolutely.” I press my nails into his skin before releasing him. “Now, get your butt in here. You’re letting all the cold air in, and next time, I’ll pinch something more sensitive than an ear.”
Just Friends (Blue Beech) Page 9