The Careless Boyfriend

by Erika Kelly

  What would she do if he caught her up in his arms, dropped his face into the curve of her neck, and just breathed in the scent of her sweet and feminine skin? Well, he already knew the answer to that, didn’t he? She’d pull away.

  Enough. He was not sitting in this hotel room all night with Knox in her jammies. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “We’ve been going all day. I thought we could order in and talk about all the money I just spent.” She clutched the pajama bottoms to her chest. “I might be freaking out just a little.”

  “Well, while you were swooning, I was going back and forth with Wyatt, discussing the spreadsheet he sent us. I can tell you with confidence that we’re good on finances. Didn’t hurt that you charmed the pants off Ethan, since his dad’s going to beat his ass when he finds out the prices he gave you.”

  “I just slipped right into saleswoman mode.” Her brow creased. “I might’ve oversold the scope of my operation.”

  “I didn’t hear you misleading him about anything.”

  “Uh, I’m making two dresses right now. I might have some requests, but I don’t have any actual orders.”

  “As of twenty minutes ago, thirteen requests have come in from the social media pages. Now, I know it’s not a done deal. You have to talk with them, figure out pricing, but you are going to make more than two dresses this year, and you’re definitely making a hundred gowns for the pop-up.”

  She backed away from the suitcase, pressing her hands to her stomach. “Oh, man.”

  “Hey.” He cut around the bed to get to her.

  “I think I’m in over my head.”

  When he reached her, he wanted nothing more than to enfold her in his arms. “No, you’re not. We’ve got this.”

  “I’ve never had employees and payroll and budgets. I’m good at designing, and I felt in control last year making twenty-five gowns. But right now…I don’t feel like I have a handle on this business.”

  “You’re not running it by yourself. Wyatt has payroll and taxes and all the financial stuff. Amelia’s got PR and marketing. Zach’s got the creative end. And, as the business grows, we can hire as many people as we need to fulfill orders.” He tipped her chin. “We got this.”

  She gazed up at him, so many questions in her eyes. “And you?”

  “I’m the CEO. I’m going to oversee the whole thing. You got a problem with anyone, you come to me, and I’ll handle it. You’re running the show, which means you delegate the work that interferes with what you do best—designing and making the product. If you don’t like how things are going, you tell me, and together we figure it out. This is your company, we’re just the team backing you up, and damn happy for it.”

  “You really want to be here?”

  “Swear to God, Knox, nowhere else I’d rather be. And I know the others feel the same way. We make fuckin’ board shorts. We’ve never done anything as fun as this. We’re into it. Promise.”

  She nodded, inhaling a sharp breath. “Okay. And it’s not like I’m making dresses in a bunkhouse in Calamity forever. It’s just for now. Until I get the attention of someone like Jack Abrams…until I have my first show.”

  All that exhilaration—like soaring off the lip of the pipe—crashed and burned.

  For a second there, he’d thought his world was big enough for her. “Now, you want a Caesar salad, or you want to get some tacos and funnel cake at the pier?”

  * * *

  He had two seconds to enjoy the view from fifty-feet above the Pacific Ocean before the roller coaster plummeted, slinging his funnel cake from the pit of his stomach into his throat. Shouldn’t have eaten right before the ride.

  Clutching the bar, hair whipped back off his face, Gray laughed so hard tears spilled down his cheeks. Damn, it felt good, spending time with Knox, guilt-free.

  But, no matter how badly he wanted to trail his fingertips along the smooth skin of her inner thigh in those shorts she was wearing, he knew he couldn’t. She didn’t see him like that. Sure, they got along. The intense connection they’d always had wasn’t one-sided. He didn’t doubt she felt affection for him, but when she closed her eyes, it wasn’t him imprinted on her lids. When she turned out the light and drew the blanket up to her ear, so spiders didn’t crawl in—like she used to do in the trailer—she didn’t get a shudder through her body as she imagined him sinking into her hot, wet heat.

  Hey, now. No wood on a roller coaster. The ride jerked to a stop, the safety device pulled back, and they climbed out onto the platform.

  “That was insane.” Her eyes went wide from the thrill.

  The thing he liked about Knox was that she might be into fashion, but she wasn’t obsessed with how she looked. Right then, just off a roller coaster ride, she didn’t think to smooth down her hair, which was all over the place. Hadn’t thought to refresh her lipstick after downing a corndog. He loved how in-the-moment she was, how thoroughly she let herself go around him.

  And how she looked like she’d just rolled onto her back after a wild go of hot sex.

  “I did not expect that drop.” When she glanced back at the ride, the bright lights of the pier made her skin glow and her eyes glitter. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “It looks so harmless.”

  I want her.

  And I don’t think I can stand wanting this woman all over again. It would kill him, all that yearning and longing, the relentless ache.

  He had until October eleventh with her—four weeks—before he flew to New Zealand for his first competition. For a while after that, their only interaction would be via text and email.

  So, he’d do like he did seven years ago—take whatever she was willing to give right now.

  * * *

  “I had so much fun tonight.”

  Gray nodded, setting his keycard on the suite’s kitchen counter.

  Stretching, she reached her arms over head, twisting at the waist, her hands lowering behind her neck. The move exposed a tiny patch of creamy skin right above the waistline of her shorts. “I’m beat. I’m going to bed.” Instead, though, she lingered.

  Was she expecting him to say something? Offer up a game of Battleship? She didn’t know the only game he wanted to play with her involved naked bodies. And, oh, fuck, did he want to get his hands on her.

  “Goodnight.” She wore a simple T-shirt and white shorts, but he wanted her with a fierceness that made his skin feel tight, ready to burst.

  Stay. Even if they just watched a movie on the couch, he wanted more time with her. The moment they landed in Wyoming tomorrow, he’d lose her. She’d dive into dress-making, and he’d be training. They wouldn’t have another chance to be alone like this.

  “’Night.” He dropped onto the couch, reaching for the remote.

  “You’re not going to sleep?”

  “I’m pretty wired. I’ll just watch some mindless TV.”

  “Your body’s not used to sugar, and you did eat a whole three bites of that funnel cake.”

  His tongue flicked out, like a cat with a hair stuck on it. “It was disgusting.”

  “Fried food? Your body’s in shock. It might never recover.” She lingered at the door. “Okay, well, goodnight.”

  “You said that.”

  She laughed. “I feel bad leaving you here when you’re wide awake.”

  “Go. I know all you want to do is get in bed and start sketching.”

  “Oh, you know that, do you?”

  “I’m wrong?”

  She smiled.

  “I’ll also bet you’re itching to draw a whole collection based on amusement park rides. Or ‘food you’d find on a pier.’”

  “I would never do something like that.” Her grin grew wider. “It’s not couture.”

  “So, you’d start with The Funnel Cake, realize it was too tacky, and change it to The Crème Brȗlée.”

  “Oh, good one. I better write it down, so I don’t forget.”

  “The Parfait.” He leaned back, stretching an arm along the
back of the couch.

  She gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “Gorgeous.”

  “The Ambrosia.”

  “You’re brilliant.” She tapped her chin, pretending to think. “The Praline?”

  “And my personal favorite, The Pots de Crème.”

  “How do you even know that name?”

  “My future sister-in-law.”

  “Ah.” She made an exaggerated show of melancholy. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “What is?”

  “A world class chef marrying into a family that lives off sweet potatoes and meat.”

  “This is true,” he said. “Although, I’ve got to say, Will’s a changed man. He’s actually eating real food now.”

  “That explains the beer belly.”

  He tipped his head back and laughed. His brother worked out religiously and still had zero percent body fat.

  “Yeah, so…”

  Was she lingering just to torment him? “I know. Goodnight.” He clicked the power button on the remote.

  “And I’m not getting into bed to sketch.”

  Muting the TV, he said, “No?”

  “No, I’m going to take a bath. I smell like fried cheese sticks.”

  “No, you don’t. You smell sweet and soft. Feminine.” Shit. He’d freaked her out. The more he hung around her, the more he liked her, and it was hard to hide that kind of attraction. But he would absolutely not make her uncomfortable with his unwanted interest. “You don’t like baths. Don’t like to ‘wallow in your own filth.’”

  “Oh, my God, Gray. That was when I lived in a trailer.”

  “You want some time alone. That’s okay. I’m good.”

  “I don’t want time alone. I just…”

  “Want to take a ‘bath,’ which I think we both know means get into bed, find a good movie on TV, and wind up sketching until you fall asleep.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s so last decade.”

  That mischievous smile squeezed his heart so hard all these warm, sticky feelings poured out. Nostalgia, longing. This is how it used to be, this connection. He thought he’d lost it forever, and he was so damn glad to have it back. “Hey, if I’m wrong, I’m wrong. People change.” But she still saw him as just a pal, so he motioned for her to close the door. “’Night.”

  When she hesitated, it struck him that something was on her mind. He got up and came over to her. “What’s up?”

  She didn’t answer, just gave him a searching look.

  “If you’re worried about anything, lay it on me. Let’s talk it out.”

  “No, I’m not worried. I mean, I am worried. Everything’s happening so fast. It’s been two weeks since I was getting my dresses ready to be shipped to New York for Bridal Fashion Week.”

  Gutted. She’d gutted him. He’d only ever wanted to lift her up—and instead, she’d had her foot on the last step of the ladder, and he’d jerked her right back down.

  “And before I could even process what happened, I’m heading back to Calamity, of all places, setting up shop in the bunkhouse. I mean…it’s crazy, right? And I know you and Amelia are doing everything in your power to rebuild what I’ve lost, but…come on, Gray. Ultimately, this is my problem.”

  “Actually, it’s our problem. We’re all in this together.”

  “I don’t know how to say this the right way except to say thank you, but now you’re off the hook. And I know you well enough to know that you won’t walk away until you think you’ve restored my life to the way it was before you guys crashed into it. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, it won’t ever look that way again. I’m on a whole new course, one without Luc, and I’ve made peace with it. I mean, it’s a swerve, but one that’ll still lead me back to the road I’d mapped out.”

  He came up close—close enough that he could smell the hint of Funnel cake in her hair. “I hear you, and thank you for letting me off the hook. So, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, everything I do from this moment on will be of my own volition, right?”

  She gave him a disbelieving look.

  “The first suggestion I made—making wedding dresses for my sisters-in-law? That came from them. They saw your dresses and begged me for an introduction. Mrs. Granger? She jumped at the idea of selling your gowns in her store. I hired Zach away from Hugo Rossi, so you can probably guess he’s fuckin’ thrilled to be working on something more than board shorts for a change. I’ve known Amelia a long time, and I’ve never seen her so excited about anything as this project, so stop feeling like we’re doing you a favor. We’re not. We’re all goddamn lucky to be part of this business with you.”

  He reached for her—because he couldn’t ever be near her and not need to be close—but her eyes rounded in alarm and her body stiffened. Well, shit. She should know he’d never take anything from her she didn’t want to give—including a touch.

  She looked like she wanted to scrape him off. “Oh, Gray.”

  Which pissed him off almost as much as her patronizing tone. “Oh, Gray what? Come on, Knox. I’m not a mind reader. You’ve got something to say, just spit it out. Say what’s on your mind.”

  “Nothing. Just…this is what you do best.” She gave him a wry smile. “Make me feel like you’re not giving me charity.”

  “Charity?” What the hell?

  “Yes, Gray. You just told me what Mrs. Granger and Zach and Amelia are getting out of this…arrangement, but you failed to mention yourself. So, tell me. Other than you—once again—riding in on your white horse to save me, what do you get out of it?”

  Was she really this clueless? White horse? “Let’s rewind all the way back to middle school. I would’ve shut down any asshole who was barking at someone. Did it make it worse that you were my friend? You bet. But you reamed me out every time I did it, so I quit doing it. The point is that I never needed to do it, because you always took care of the situation in your own way. As for now, today? You want to know what I get out of working with you? Another income stream and the chance to hang out with you again. Both of those are pretty fuckin’ sweet.”

  “There’s only ever been one context for us being together, and that’s you saving my ass. You fought my bullies so many times you got suspended. The whole time we hung out I was tormented over Robert. Look, we’re adults now, we can be honest about the past. You’re a nice guy. You looked out for me, and I’ll always be grateful, but let’s not pretend it’s ever been anything other than what it is.”

  Nice? He was a nice guy? Awesome. Well, at least that explained it. You’re not attracted to nice guys. You don’t want nice guys to tear off your panties and pound you into next week. “Okay.”

  “What? I’m saying that I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I don’t have a lot of people in my corner, and it’s nice that you’ve always been there for me. But we’re adults now, and you’re going after something really important that requires all your focus.” She looked frustrated. “I can see by your expression that I’m saying it all wrong.” She lifted her arms and then dropped them so hard they clapped against her thighs. “You’ve done more than enough this time. I’m ridiculously grateful, but now you’re free.”

  “I don’t want to be in your corner, Knox.” I want to be in your heart.

  Whoa. Calm down.

  But he couldn’t. An avalanche of words he’d never said rumbled and groaned under the pressure. “And I already told you not to be grateful, because I’m right where I want to be.”

  She clasped her hands together. “You’re mad, and I don’t know why. I have very few good memories of my childhood. The best ones are with you. But…at the same time…those are the ones that keep me up at night.”

  His body went on alert. What was she saying? What had he done wrong?

  “I try not to think of them, but when I do, when a memory pops up, my first reaction is just…happiness. You brought me that…” She let out a slow, shaky breath through pursed lips. “But, about a second later, I feel
sick to my stomach.”

  “Because of me?” Oh, Jesus. He thought he’d done such a bang-up job of keeping his feelings from her, but she’d known. And it had made her sick. He’d made her sick. She’d been in love with his best friend, and there he was stealing private moments with her, letting his completely inappropriate feelings bleed all over her.

  He wanted to run. Turn and walk out of this room. Head straight to the airport and not look back. But he couldn’t do that. Not when he’d made her sick to her stomach. He needed to stand here and take it. He’d earned it.

  “Gray, don’t feel bad about it. It’s not your fault. It’s just how you’re wired.”

  Mortification ripped through him like a flash fire. His palms went clammy.

  “But we’re adults now, and I’m done being your pity project. You weren’t driving that car, Amelia was. The only reason you’re here right now is because poor Knox is in trouble yet again. It just…makes me sick. Now, just let me take a bath and go to sleep.”

  Whoa—his head was spinning. She’s not pissed because I lusted after my best friend’s girlfriend. She’s upset because… “Nuh uh. No fuckin’ way. You don’t drop shit like that on me and then walk away. You give me a chance.” How the hell did he clear this one up? “Jesus, Knox. all this time, you thought you were my pity project? That is just…” He shook his head. “Fucked up. Did it ever occur to you that I stopped being friends with Robert but stayed friends with you?”

  “Yes, to protect me from him and his druggie friends.”

  “What? No. I stayed friends with Robert long past when I should have because I felt sorry for him. Because I thought I could help him—not because I liked him anymore. When I figured out I couldn’t, I walked away. It was either that or get sucked into his messed up world. Besides, it’s disrespectful to pretend to be friends with someone when you’re left with nothing but pity.”

  Her eyebrows hitched up, as if he’d just proven her point, but he wasn’t done yet. “I hung out with you, because I liked you. I admired you. Do you remember that fire drill when the entire school had to file outside onto the football field? I was one of the last people out of the building, but I watched you climb the bleachers, watched someone shove you so hard you fell on the stairs. Everyone around you stepped aside, and no one did shit to help you. And then I saw Cady Toller laughing her ass off.”