Sweethand

by N. G. Peltier

  Cherisse picked at the pineapple on her pizza, popping the pieces in her mouth as she avoided looking at her friends.

  “You don’t do casual hookups, so...”

  “I know. It’s not happening again.”

  “Right.” Remi didn’t sound convinced.

  Cherisse wasn’t entirely convinced, either. They’d be seeing each other at the party, and there was still the wedding to go, not to mention all the little Maid of Honor/Best Man shit Ava and Eric were sure to need them both for, in between all that. She could be adamant about not having sex with him anymore, but dammit, she hadn’t planned the quickie in the closet either. Self-control. She needed to get some of that from somewhere.

  “I just don’t want him thinking this could be more than a one-time thing.” Remi shot her a look. “Fine, a two-time thing. Whatever. Rolling into FWBs with Keiran isn’t something I want, or anything serious either.”

  “This’ll get messy as hell.” Remi sipped her drink, pointing the bottle at Cherisse. “You get to choose how you handle this, but maybe try to minimize the fallout. And what about these guys your mom keeps throwing at you? Are you gonna keep that up now that you’re getting some regular D?”

  “It’s not regular D. I just told you.” She exhaled exasperatedly.

  “But it could be,” Reba pointed out, needlessly, because she wasn’t having sex with Keiran again.

  Cherisse had sensed some things bubbling beneath the surface between her and Keiran. Things she’d pretended not to notice. Things she couldn’t ignore after the kiss, but she’d chosen to. Now, here they were. Why was she even pretending like she didn’t know how this could go sideways?

  She didn’t want to keep talking about this. “So, who else is making a mess of their lives?” she asked cheerfully.

  Remi’s gaze returned to the movie. “Well, that date I had the other night was going okay until I called her by another name while my hand was up her skirt. And with all the rain, I couldn’t leave right away, so it was an uncomfortable night.”

  “Oh, shit.” Remi hadn’t mentioned the date, and Cherisse had been too occupied silently freaking out over having had sex with Keiran to ask Remi about it when she’d gotten home. God, she was a terrible friend.

  “Whose name?” Reba asked.

  Remi didn’t look away from the TV. “Let’s just say, Cherisse isn’t the only one having King-sized problems.”

  Cherisse stared. “Oh.”

  “Shit. We’re gonna need some stronger drinks and more pizza.” Reba got to her feet. “Mummy’s got some tequila stashed somewhere.”

  “Yup.”

  “I...” Cherisse had a ton of questions, but Remi shook her head, obviously not wanting to elaborate further. Which was fine. Remi was right on the mark about one thing, though. Cherisse did have a King-sized problem and no idea how to deal with it.

  Chapter 23

  Keiran

  THE VENUE LOOKED JUST like he’d imagined, with the cozy corners, as they’d dubbed them, mini blanket fort sections set up with comfy pillows and cushions where people could go off and watch the movies being projected. There were snack sections, a selfie station equipped with props, and games to be played. They’d also set up a prize for the most creative sleepwear. Keiran was pleasantly surprised that they’d pulled this off.

  The guests wore various types of sleepwear, ranging from cutesy sleep sets to ridiculous onesies. People had really gone all out with the dress code.

  Eric and Ava had swept him and Cherisse up in a suffocating hug when they’d arrived, the bride and groom wearing matching wide-eyed looks of awe as they’d surveyed the décor.

  “Oh my God, this is awesome!” Eric had gestured wildly at the cozy corners. “Blanket forts, yes!” He’d waggled his brows dramatically. “If the fort’s a-rockin’, don’t come knockin’.”

  Keiran had rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’s not that kinda party.”

  “But it could be,” Ava had said, leering at her fiancé.

  Keiran felt a sense of pride that they loved it. He and Cherisse hadn’t murdered each other; they’d survived working together. Of course, now they’d plunged headlong into this weird limbo because of the sex. The sex they were now pretending didn’t happen. At least Cherisse was, or maybe she was just a good actor. It was all Keiran could think about.

  He stood near the snack table, eyes scanning the area until they landed on pajama pants sprinkled with cupcakes. He’d have spotted Cherisse easily, even without the brightly-patterned bottoms. He was too attuned to her not to. “I Sugarcoat Everything” was splashed across the front of her top with a mini cupcake at the end like a full stop. Tousled hair down around her shoulders, wide grin on her face, she’d explained she was going for that just-woken-up bedhead look, and she’d nailed it. God, had she ever. Her lips were glossed with this deep red that had him picturing how that mouth would look stretched around his cock. She looked adorable and sexy at the same time, and it was doing a number on him.

  It didn’t help that he was so acutely aware of what they’d done in that damn closet. The closed space was like a siren’s call to him now.

  Cherisse held the game sheets they’d prepared, going over the rules with Reba, who’d been happy to help run the games. Dressed in silky grey pajamas, one button done up, the rest unbuttoned and showing off her toned midriff and the top of her black boxers, Reba drew a lot of eyes. He could admit she rocked that TLC style well, but his eyes slid back to Cherisse’s ass in the soft cottony fabric. The urge to make use of that closet again was real. He was remembering those ass cheek dimples when Scott rolled up, decked out in a silky belted robe over some equally shiny PJs.

  “Yo, this setup is awesome! Thanks for creating the nap zones for after the itis kicks my ass with all this food.” Scott grabbed up a popcorn container from the table.

  “Cozy corners,” Keiran corrected. Scott laughed at him but kept on eating his popcorn. “What? The sign says so and everything.”

  “You’re really into this.”

  Keiran shrugged. “We spent a lot time on it, hell, yeah, I’m into it. Lots of sweat went into pulling this off.”

  Scott munched on his popcorn, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah, I know ‘bout the sweaty activities you two been up to.”

  He’d told Scott everything. Maxi knew about the kiss. Eric didn’t know any of it. Not because Keiran didn’t trust him, but he figured Eric had enough going on. And okay, he could admit he wasn’t completely certain Eric wouldn’t spill the beans to his wife-to-be. Keiran had no idea if Cherisse had told anyone since they weren’t discussing it. Was he even allowed to ask her that? This was all new to him, so he was treading lightly, erring on the cautious side.

  Scott clapped him on the back, grinning. “Living that dream.”

  “Yeah? What dream is that exactly? Us secretly sleeping together while she publicly goes out with Jerome?”

  He sounded bitter, but he hadn’t been prepared to hear from his mother that the two had gone to Fleur’s Tea Shop on some cozy date. His mother had mentioned it casually, in passing, and Keiran hadn’t been sure how to react. It was ridiculous to be jealous of Jerome when his cousin wasn’t interested in Cherisse romantically. But she didn’t know that, and he couldn’t tell her because he wouldn’t out Jerome like that. But maybe if he told his cousin what was going on between him and Cherisse, perhaps Jerome would find someone else for his ruse.

  The problem was he didn’t know what Cherisse’s intentions were. Had she agreed to the date because of pressure from her mother? Did she genuinely like Jerome? His cousin was a great guy, so it wasn’t that unbelievable, but where did that leave him and Cherisse?

  They’d had amazing sex, which he’d never expected in his wildest dreams, but it didn’t give him the right to expect anything from Cherisse. His jealousy was his problem, but damn if hearing about these dates didn’t chafe. He could admit he wanted that, too. Seemed unlikely he’d get it.

  Scott rooted around in his cont
ainer. “Sorry, man. I know you really like her.”

  Like? What a joke. His heart hammered in his chest from just watching her smiling with her sister, who’d joined the conversation with Reba. He was screwed. He should’ve shut everything down before it had gotten this far. Adding sex just revved up all the twisty annoying feelings that had been simmering since they’d come back into each other’s orbit. Now, he knew how she tasted beneath his tongue, felt in his hands, and sounded when she came. He shrugged like Scott’s words weren’t a dagger to the chest.

  “It is what it is. I’ll live.”

  Scott leveled him with a look heavy on the skepticism but kept on eating the rest of his popcorn, not saying a word. Keiran told himself to go check on the status of the games, anything but standing here feeling sorry for himself while Scott patted his shoulder.

  “It’ll work out, somehow,” Scott assured him. “By the way, your FWB’s heading this way, so good luck with that.”

  “Scott, what the f—” Too late. Scott had already sailed off, stopping briefly to wave at Cherisse before he power-walked away like whatever was happening on the other end of the room was so important.

  “Hi.” Her smile was a little frayed around the edges, but Keiran chose to pin that on tiredness—they’d been here late last night and early this morning setting up—rather than I know what you look like naked awkwardness. It was possibly a mix of both. “Everything okay over here?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” She tossed him a questioning look. His tone had been a bit curt. His brain supplied nothing else. Well, nothing except wanting to ask her about Jerome and why she hadn’t mentioned the date. It did register how good she smelled, though. Vanilla. She always smelled good, sweet. Today, she smelled all vanilla-y, like... “Cookies,” he blurted out.

  “Cookies?” Her brow furrowed because, obviously, that made no sense.

  “No, I meant you,”—Jesus, he was going to sound like a fool—“smell like cookies.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. Her snort made him drag his hand away. She was smiling at him, at least, a real, full-on, genuine, make-his-heart-beat-faster smile.

  “I get that a lot. Sorry to disappoint, but it’s just my perfume. I didn’t make any cookies for this thing. I did the, uh...” She cleared her throat. “The red velvet shooters that you liked so much, and other desserts, obviously.” Her hand swept the table behind him.

  Like he was ever going to forget what those red velvet shooters were. He associated their first kiss with them. He wasn’t losing that memory anytime soon.

  “I’ve had people say I smell like bread, cookies, cake.” She ticked them off on her fingers.

  “Not bad smells to be associated with. What was the weirdest?”

  “Hmm.” She tapped her cheek, rolling her bottom lip inward before releasing it with a pop. “Honey roasted peanuts.”

  He dragged his eyes away from her mouth, chuckling. “They do smell good, so that’s a fair comparison. You smell good everywhere.”

  Well, now, he’d done it. Ratcheted up the already present tension by referencing the one thing they were actively avoiding talking about.

  “I should get back,” she said hastily. “Time to start the games.”

  “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to make this any weirder than it already is.”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine. Don’t stress.”

  “Except it’s not.” Why wasn’t he shutting up? This wasn’t the place or time. But dammit, he had Cherisse here now. When would he get the chance to discuss any of this? The wedding? He didn’t think so. “Look, I’m gonna be real with you. I can’t stop thinking about you and me. And...we had sex. There’s no way I can pretend it didn’t happen. I can’t. I know that’s what you want, and I get it.” He blew out a breath.

  Cherisse opened her mouth then snapped it shut like she wasn’t sure what to say. He’d put her on the spot, but he was tired. Tired of walking around on eggshells. He was distracted in the studio too. That was never a good thing. He couldn’t blame Cherisse for that. It all just added to his frustrations, which were bubbling over at the worst time.

  Cherisse looked around. She rubbed her arm, eyes flitting about before her gaze came back to rest on him. “I can’t stop thinking about it, either. That what you wanted to hear?”

  “Yes. Then why’d you go out with Jerome?”

  Cherisse reared back in surprise. “That’s...none of your business.”

  “Maybe. Doesn’t hurt any less.”

  “What are you doing? Don’t say shit like that. We’re not doing this.” She shook her head. “I...I need to go. The games need to get started.” She turned to leave him with his heart in the dust.

  “Just vomiting my feelings everywhere as one does.” Stop this. Cherisse wasn’t obligated to like him back, and he damn well knew that. Sex didn’t mean she felt anything other than lust for him.

  She turned back, a ball of anger in his face now. “Now isn’t the place for this. You wanna hash this out? Fine. Later. Don’t make this about you.”

  He was pissed. Hurt. Acting a fool. Yet seeing Cherisse like this made him want to kiss her. The damn closet was basically calling to him now. A fired-up Cherisse was a goddamn beautiful thing. As if she knew what he was thinking, her eyes dropped to his mouth for several heartbeats. She tore her gaze back up to meet his stare.

  “God, you’re pissing me off so much right now.”

  He leaned in. “Maybe, but you still wanna fuck me. When you’re ready to talk, come find me. My tongue’s ready to do whatever you want.”

  He walked away. Her sound of outrage was satisfying.

  Chapter 24

  Cherisse

  THESE PING-PONGING emotions were annoying. As was Keiran. The damn man. How dare he try to make her feel guilty for hanging out with Jerome? Which was really what going to Fleur’s Tea Shop had been about. She didn’t even like tea, but the shop was so cute and served other beverages, and Jerome was a cool guy to hang out with.

  She liked Jerome. He was easy to talk to, and they’d bonded over both of their mothers’ ridiculous attempts at matchmaking, so it had been the perfect distraction from this Keiran mess, not that she’d told Jerome any of that. He was still Keiran’s family.

  Was she a terrible person for leaving him to believe she was in any way interested in Jerome romantically?

  “What’d that pencil do to you?” Remi whispered in her ear.

  Cherisse looked down at her grip on her pencil. She’d crumpled one corner of the games sheet, too, without even realizing. She was supposed to be chipper and ready to host the games with Reba, not thinking about Keiran or that parting comment. Or that his words had heat pooling everywhere, even as she was fuming. She hated this.

  She tried to smoothen the crinkled edges, eased her death grip on the pencil. “Nothing,” she said.

  “Something happen before I got here?” Remi asked.

  “Keiran King happened, that’s what,” she muttered before plastering on her best smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.” She found his smug face among the guests, remembered that discreet middle finger she’d tossed him at Ava’s engagement party. Unsure she could pull off the move as smoothly, this time, she didn’t try it. She just returned his grin and then got into host mode.

  The games ran smoothly. Reba was a great co-host, ad-libbing jokes, hyping everyone up, even managing to capture all the fun moments on her phone. Ava and Eric were clearly having fun, which was all Cherisse had hoped for during the course of planning this. That and surviving Keiran. She was crashing and burning at the latter because right now, even as pissed as she was at him, her eyes kept finding his.

  She needed air. The games were over, and people were either heading off to the cozy corners or engaging in conversation with the bride and groom-to-be. The perfect opportunity to slip away, especially with fatigue lingering in her bones. It would hit her hard.

  She’d expected the crash to descend a bit later on after she got home. Planning events,
in general, was exhausting, but working with Keiran had her emotions all over the place. As she stepped outside, she hoped no one would need her for anything. She should have taken advantage of one of the cozy corners, but that meant still interacting with others while they had movie time. Why hadn’t she thought of having a single cozy corner made for herself?

  The slumber shower was being held in the main event area of the Marigold Club, a spacious hall that they’d transformed into the cozy corners, food areas, game spots, and the props and self-photo area. The outside of the club boasted lush grounds peppered with fruit trees and different types of flowers, adding spots of color amidst all the green. There was a pool and tennis court somewhere in the back, but Cherisse stuck to a corner of the main hall porch area, arms pressed against the handrail that wrapped right around the hall.

  She retrieved her phone from her pocket. Reba usually took care of the bulk of Sweethand emails, but sometimes, she’d get some stuff sent to her personal email, so she ensured to at least peek at her inbox daily. After deleting a bunch of spam and flagging a legit email about catering for a birthday party, she perused her social accounts. She’d already been tagged in a bunch of photos. There was even one with her and Keiran chatting with Ava and Eric. It had been taken just when the couple had arrived.

  Her fingers had a mind of their own because they pulled up Keiran’s Instagram. She skimmed his feed, noting a photo of them that he’d reposted from Scott. They’d been captured working side-by-side, getting the place ready during the setup this morning. They both wore shorts and tees, flip-flops on their feet. The sexual tension swirling between them wasn’t obvious in the photo, but she remembered how hard it was for her not to think about the sex. The hot, satisfying, “this is gonna be a problem, but my body is a greedy bitch” sex.

  They should talk. Lines were blurring, and she needed a firm grip on some self-control right now because no matter how sure she’d sounded to Keiran when she’d said they weren’t doing it again, her body would do the opposite. She’d gotten a taste, and damn if she didn’t want a repeat. There was a lot of that hard body she hadn’t explored yet. The last time hadn’t quenched her thirst. If her plan had been one and done, scratch an itch, sprinkle a little water on this drought period of hers, it had backfired spectacularly because it just fueled the want that was churning inside her.