by Adams, Sarah
You might be wondering if I’m nervous about tonight and the prospect of finally making out with the woman I’ve loved since I was seventeen. Nah, I’ve gone out with so many women, and—YES I’M FREAKING OUT. My palms are so sweaty I can barely turn the steering wheel. My heart is hitting my ribs so hard they’re cracking. I’m sure she can hear it. Probably thinks it sounds like I’m crinkling candy wrappers, but nope, it’s just my bones disintegrating.
I’m hoping to cross some major lines with my best friend tonight, and if she doesn’t reciprocate, if she still sees me as a brother after this, I’m throwing in the towel. I won’t force something between us, and I won’t ruin our friendship in the process. If I make a move on her and she shuts it down and runs off like she did after my cameo as Sir Strips-a-lot the other night, I’ll officially make myself get over her.
But first, I’ve got to get a grip. How am I supposed to touch her with these sweaty palms? I’ll leave greasy streaks behind on the sexy black dress she’s wearing. No, Nathan, don’t think about the dress. Don’t look at the dress. Don’t slide your gaze to the tight fabric hugging her thighs—I looked. I’ve been looking all night and it’s doing nothing to help me keep my cool. I’m so far away from cool I’m an active volcano.
“So what sort of party is this going to be?” Bree asks, a touch of nervousness tinging her voice. At least I know I’m not alone, even if our nerves are for different reasons.
“It’ll be more like a low-key get-together. Nothing big.” Derek promised me it wouldn’t be over the top, nothing that could stir up any trouble for the guys on the team.
But apparently his word means nothing, because as we pull through the security gate that leads to his property, I see what looks like hundreds of cars. It’s a freaking carnival. His mansion is lit up like the Fourth of July, colored lights shining through the windows and the pulse of music hitting me as soon as I step out of the truck.
“Orrrr maybe it’ll be a rager,” I say after coming around the truck to open the door for Bree and help her down.
Bree is dressed to kill tonight. An assassin on the run in her jet black dress. It’s tight and cuts off midway up her thighs. Curls twist and spill over one of her shoulders, and I’m in awe of her. Those wide, brown eyes stare at the scene ahead of us, and I feel her hand slowly slide into mine. Our fingers lace. I can’t help but smile when I realize her palms are a little sweaty too.
She swallows audibly. “Stay with me, please.”
I grin. “Always.”
The crowd is thick in here. The lights are low and the music is loud. Unless someone is right in front of you, it’s hard to tell who anyone is. I don’t like that.
Bree has my hand in a death grip and keeps shooting me looks that say, I don’t belong here!
I squeeze her hand. Yes you do.
“Do you want a drink?” I have to lean down and ask in her ear so she can hear. It feels more like a club in here than a home. I’m going to kill Derek.
She frantically nods yes, and her hair tickles my lips. I maneuver us into the kitchen where we find Derek and Jamal along with the largest selection of liquor I’ve ever seen. Enough to get our whole damn team in trouble.
Jamal spots me first—whisky in hand, mid-pour into his red cup. He promptly sets it down and takes one extra-large step backward then points an accusing finger at Derek. “Told him not to.”
I swing my gaze to Derek, who is shooting a look at Jamal. “I thought you said it would be low-key.”
Derek flashes a mischievous grin and stretches his arms out side to side. “I tried, but the people overpowered me.”
Jamal laughs. “Nope. He’s lying. I saw the guest list, and he definitely invited all these people on purpose.”
I scan the party and am able to make out several of the single guys from our team. All drinking, all encircled by women I don’t recognize. Sure, they’re not really doing anything wrong yet, but the night is still young, and we have practice in the morning. My blood pressure hits the ceiling. Why are they all acting like this? Does no one else care that we’re in the playoffs? What if one of our starters gets drunk and ends up in a fight? What if the cops get called? What if that leads to a suspension? I was okay with Derek throwing a small, chill party, but this feels negligent. Downright reckless.
“We have practice in the morning, Derek. If you overserve everyone—”
“Nathan.” Bree interrupts me with a light hand to my chest. My brain registers this touch like a trigger sensor on the game Operation. My skin buzzes where her hand is resting, and I’m afraid my nose is going to light up red. I look down, and her soft smile immediately wraps around my racing heart and soothes it. “Let’s just relax for a little bit. Don’t worry about the guys. They can make their own choices and deal with their own consequences if they get into trouble. Tonight, just let yourself have fun.”
Wait, is that an option? For four years, I’ve been the level-headed guy. The one who makes sure everyone is doing exactly what they should be. I’ll admit, it’s tiring.
Bree pats my chest lightly. “Let’s grab a drink and then maybe you could show me around?”
I stare down at her wondering how in the hell she just did that. I could feel that tightness starting to grip my chest, that smothering sensation settling down on me again. An out-of-control panic was tiptoeing up to me, then one touch and a few soft words from her pulled me back to my body. I feel safe with her. My thoughts feel quieter.
Jamal hands her the drink he just made and mouths Thank you like she just saved him from a fire-breathing dragon. Derek runs away like a coward. Yeah, you better run, fool. I spot a guy over Bree’s shoulder looking her up and down and backing up again in a way I don’t like one bit. His eyes say disgusting things, and it’s natural instinct for me to bottle up my rage and clench my fist at my side, unable to do anything about it because I’m just Bree’s friend. But then I realize—we’re in public! For all intents and purposes, Bree is my girlfriend right now, and all bets are off.
I slip my hand around her waist and feel the crease of her hip against my palm. I make eye contact with the guy and make sure he knows this possessive touch is a middle finger to his face. Not tonight, buddy. Eyes off. Habit has me waiting for Bree to shoot a glare up at me for touching her like this. When I see her eyelashes lower, registering the touch, and then she cozies in closer instead of pulling away, my pulse doubles.
She finally looks up at me, and there’s something there. Something new. Something sparking and inviting, and I’m not just imagining it, right? I dare to find out what it is.
“This is okay?” I ask.
She lifts a coy shoulder with a small grin—flirtatious. ALSO NEW! “I mean, sure. But just know that if you’re going to act possessive in public, I will too.” She goes up on her toes to kiss my jaw.
My heart stops.
In that tiny little kiss, there was a country-sized amount of meaning. The way her eyes look, the way her body feels against mine…it all adds to the implication. That small kiss was a checkered flag, and not once tonight has Bree made a single move to remind me of the friend zone. No brother, amigo, BFF, or incest references.
No, right now, her eyes have fire in them, and there’s no way I’m going to pretend it’s not there. I won’t keep moving and ignore the signs tonight. Item number 20 is underway. I’m going to harness the flames in her eyes to burn our platonic friendship to the ground.
I squeeze her hip tighter and steer us out of the kitchen. “In that case, come with me.”
Nathan’s hand presses into my side as he takes me with him out of the kitchen, drinks forgotten, weaving us through a crowded dance floor in the living room. The couches have all been moved to the perimeter and so many people are packed into the center, cups in hand and dancing like they belong in an underground club. My first feeling is relief. Dancing! Yes! That sounds great. Nathan saying “In that case” had my mind racing to other outcomes. Outcomes I definitely want but am also a little terrifi
ed to embrace. So, let’s dance!
Oh, we’re passing the dance floor now. A woman backs into me, and her sequined dress scratches over my bare arm. Nathan tucks me in closer to his side and steers us toward a hallway. A dark hallway. That’s fine. I’m good. Everything is good.
“Umm, should we be going this way? Looks sort of…dark.” I try to persuade him, but he just quietly grins and keeps moving us toward that forbidden hallway. I don’t know that it’s forbidden, but no one else is in it, so it sure feels forbidden.
This is what I get for talking a big game with Lily! I thought I could lay it on thick, but now I just want to lie down and pass out because I can feel change in the air. I can feel it transmitting from Nathan’s fingertips through the fabric of my dress and seeping into my veins.
We step into the hallway, and I know we’re not coming back out the same people as before. It’s also important to note that Nathan is the only man in the world I would trust to take me down a creepy, dark passage like this—and if that doesn’t say something about his character and the way I feel for him, I don’t know what will.
With every step, I feel more excited, thrilled, and terrified.
“What a lovely hallway. It’s so…dark…and…hallwayish.”
We don’t go to the end of it like I think we will. We don’t open any of the closed bedroom doors. We stop in the middle where the colored lights from the party still reach, and yet it’s private enough to not be watched. I suck in a breath when Nathan abruptly spins me around so my shoulder blades touch the wall. He smiles down at me, still not saying a word, and then really confuses me by taking a step away. Two steps. Three. His back hits the opposite wall, and we look like two kids who got in trouble at school for calling each other names. Definitely not the direction I thought this was going…
Maybe I misread him the other night. Maybe he doesn’t have feelings for me. Maybe—
“I’m giving you ample warning,” he says in a deep tone that crawls up my neck in the most pleasant way. Like someone trailing their finger across your skin to make your hairs stand up. His eyes glitter in the darkness. “I know change scares you, so I’m going to tell you what’s about to happen, make sure you approve first.”
Did anyone else just hear me gulp?
I try to say okay, but nothing comes out. My lips are only moving for show.
“I’m going to take three steps back to you and put my hands on your hips.” His eyes rove over me, and he squints just below my chin. “Maybe your jaw, maybe the back of your neck. We’ll see. And then I’m going to kiss you.”
I. Can’t. Feel. My. Toes.
When my voice finds its way out, it sounds like a croak. “Why?”
His head tilts rakishly, and he smiles but doesn’t answer me.
This is where habit tells me to END IT. The little hall monitor that enforces my self-preservation blows a whistle and says, Stop this right now! But things are changing around here, and I want them to change, so I shove her into a locker. (But then I feel bad about that so I take her back out, thank her for her service, give her a chocolate bar, and tell her to take a vacation to the beach. She deserves it for all her hard work.)
Would I have liked for Nathan to admit his undying love for me and THEN kiss me? Yes. But I’m going to make myself do something new and hope for the best. He’s taken the utmost care of me over the past six years, and deep down, I know I can trust him now.
“Still with me, Bree Cheese?” he asks.
I nod.
Just as promised, Nathan takes one, two, three steps, and now he’s in front of me. I have to tilt my chin back so far to see him that my head rests against the wall. One hand moves forward and rests on my hip. It feels like a match striking a box. I have been forcing all of my attraction for this man away since high school, and now that I can let it out…I’m giggling.
Oh gosh, I’m giggling! No! This is no time to pull a Rachel Green!
Nathan freezes and frowns down at my bubbling laughter. I’m terrified I’m going to sabotage us again, so I clasp a hand over my mouth. At first, he looks uncertain and defeated, but then his frown clears and he smiles.
“Rachel Green?” he asks, because of COURSE he’d know what’s happening to me. We’ve watched the whole F.R.I.E.N.D.S. series together multiple times, so he knows when Ross Geller finally gets with his longtime friend Rachel Green, she can’t help but giggle every time he touches her. And I can’t believe it’s happening to me now. Is this an actual condition?
“I’m sorry,” I say from behind my hand. “I’m ruining this.”
“Ruining what?” he asks savagely, trying to get me to admit there’s a this between us to ruin.
I don’t take the bait. “The facade. Anyone watching right now will be able to see that this is totally foreign for us. The jig will be up.” Total crap. No one can see us right now, and no one at this party gives a flying monkey what we’re doing.
Nathan hums a deep sound and inches closer, taking my other hip in his free hand. He pushes me flush against the wall and drops his head to my neck. His breath grazes my skin and he whispers, “You’ll just have to pretend it’s nothing new.”
I hold my breath as his soft, warm lips press against the side of my neck. Tingles erupt across my skin.
“Pretend I’ve kissed you here a thousand times already.” His hands leave my hips to skate up my sides and land on either side of my jaw. He tilts my head and moves to the other side of my throat. “Pretend I have every inch of you mapped out like the back of my hand.” His hand slides around my back and drops low to just above my rear end. “Pretend I know you have a two-inch birthmark right here.” Reality is colliding with fantasy because I do have a birthmark right there. I’m on the brink of spiraling, remembering he’s seen me naked, but he moves on quickly.
His lips lose contact and he takes a handful of my curls in between his fingers, raising them to his nose to breathe in. “Pretend I was the one who washed your hair with this coconut shampoo before we came here tonight.”
Oh my gosh. I can’t breathe or swallow or think or move or live any longer. My soul has reached nirvana and I’m not coming back. Nathan is overwhelming. He’s powerful and yet oh so gentle. How has it taken me so long to experience this side of him? And if he’s truly pretending, his acting is next level.
“Pretend,” he says in a gravelly tone, quiet enough for only me to hear as he drags his thumb across my lower lip. “I am off my face for you, and all you want right now is for me to kiss you.” He lowers his head so his lips are hovering just a fraction over mine. I’m aching for him. Dying for his mouth to land on mine and BE DONE WITH IT. I close my eyes and part my lips and feel his barely brush against mine as he points out, “You’re not giggling anymore.”
I drag in a deep breath then whisper, “No. I’m not.”
Finally, Nathan’s lips press into mine. It’s the softness of a rose unfurling. It’s velvet brushing over silk. Dipping your toes in a hot bath and languidly inching your body into the water so you don’t get burned.
I’ve dreamed of this kiss for years, but in my imagination, I was never able to accurately conjure the rich, taut texture of his skin, or the strength he’s trembling to restrain behind his powerful hands.
All of the space between us closes as Nathan pulls me in tighter. Our hips meet and I’m in his arms fully now, dragging a deep inhale of him into my lungs. Into my veins. Into my soul. I can’t get enough of him.
Can this really be happening?
Yes, his lips say as they press into mine over and over. Searching. Exploring. Coaxing. My palms slide up over his chest to lock around his neck. While I’m here, I might as well take some liberties. I get my paws in the back of his hair, right at the nape of his neck where it curls deliciously. He makes a quiet groan of appreciation and everything speeds up. It’s a kick drum now with a rising tempo. He parts my lips. I taste him and he tastes me.
It’s no surprise to me that Nathan is completely controlled in his mov
ements. He’s precise and meticulous on the field, and that translates here too. He’s disciplined. But I sense there’s another side to him, one where he lets go and surrenders. I crave that recklessness in him, so I lightly bite his lower lip and tug. A gentle reminder that I’m not as fragile as he thinks.
He responds immediately, hands wrapping fully around my ribs. My feet leave the floor. He hoists me up easily, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life. Him. Nathan. My sweet friend is hungrily devouring my mouth like I am everything he needs in this world and he will take it all.
I press my fingers into his shoulders, relishing the muscles flexing beneath my touch. His body is devastating. Glorious. And it’s attached to his soul so I adore it even more. I cling tighter because our kiss is so intense I’m dizzy. Yearning and desire pulse through both of us until it feels like a tangible current. Years of holding back combust.
“Bree…” Nathan breaks the kiss to whisper reverently against my throat. He kisses it, bites gently, soothes it with another kiss.
Shivers race through my body and I burn everywhere he touches me. How is this reality? How are we here?
I catch his lips again, and my blood hammers through my veins. Now that I’ve tasted his kiss, I’m addicted. I’ll be chasing this sensation for the rest of my life.
We’re plucked out of the hallway and transported into another reality among the stars. Up here, there are no sounds other than our hearts beating and breaths curling between us like tidal waves. Heat and Nathan’s calloused touch are my only guides in the dark, and everything is right, and safe, and as it should be. Our bodies were made for each other—that has to be the answer to how this can be so good.
Suddenly, everything goes dark and startlingly silent, quickly followed by squeals and curses. The power is out.
Nathan’s lips peel off of mine, and it physically hurts to have to say goodbye to them. I think I whimper, and he chuckles pleasantly and kisses my cheek.