“I hate you, Nick!” she screamed, catching me off guard. I turned just in time to see the cell phone she'd just hurled at me miss my head by only a few inches and hit the wall behind me, clattering to the floor, probably broken. “And I hate Seattle. I hate the stupid, cold beach with the stupid wet sand, and I hate that it’s always so wet and rainy, and I hate the seagulls because they're so fucking annoying and I hate the homeless people on the street.” She paused, allowing a sob to slip from somewhere deep down in her throat. “I hate you, Nick,” she said again. “And I hate being here with you because it is nothing but a constant reminder that my best friend is dead and she's never coming back.”
She fell to her knees on the floor, face cradled in her hands, body wracking with sobs. I stood back, watching, both shocked and uncertain. I knew I should comfort her, but I didn't want to get hit. When she was distraught, she wasn’t the gentlest person I'd ever met.
“Hey,” I said, and stepped in her direction. “We're doing this, Sam. We've already started. We have to finish.”
Sam looked up at me, her emerald green eyes bright with tears.
“I can't do this anymore,” she said. “I made a mistake. I ruined my entire life.”
Swallowing my hesitance, I reached down for her hand, wishing I knew of something I could say to make her feel better. After only a moment's hesitation, she took it, allowing me to pull her back to her feet.
“You can do this,” I said to her. “You are doing this.”
“I hate you, Nick,” she said. “I hate everything about you, and I especially hate how—” I pressed my lips to her mouth, shushing her, cutting her off in mid-sentence. She shrieked somewhere in her throat and yanked away from me. Her eyes had gone from wallowing in sadness to a forest fire of rage in a matter of seconds.
“How dare you!” she shouted, and before I could stop her, she lifted her hand and slapped me hard across the face, fuming. Stars danced in my vision as I stared at her, taken aback. “You keep your hands off me!” she hissed and raised her arm again for a second hit.
This time I saw it coming, and I reached up to seize both of her arms in my grip. I placed my lips once more on hers as she struggled and cried out, furious, kicking and hitting me as I backed her into a wall and slipped my tongue between her lips.
“What are you doing?!” she screamed. In one quick shove she pushed me back, her eyes wide in anger and her jaw tense. “Someone already tried that tonight, douchebag.”
I touched the red welt on my cheek, wondering if it would leave a bruise. She was still glowering at me as I turned away from her to find ice in the freezer.
“Hey, asshole,” she said behind me. I turned back around, expecting another slap or even a real punch in the face. Instead, I was surprised as she yanked at my shirt and pulled me into her, meeting my lips this time with her own. Startled, I resisted at first, but only for a fleeting moment. In an instant, I had her pushed back up against the wall, my body firmly against hers.
“We shouldn't be doing this,” she whispered. “It's not right.”
I touched my lips to hers again, shushing her, allowing my hand to trail down her abdomen. Her breath was sweet, a mixture of evergreen gum and liquor from earlier. Her eyes were closed, and she groaned, melting into my embrace, so willing this time, free of anger. I nibbled gently on her lip, tasting tropical lip-gloss. God, I needed this. I needed her and everything she was.
“You're right,” I whispered. “But I don't care.” A soft groan of pleasure escaped Sam's lips as her back met the wall, and her body pressed against my own in a moment of white-hot pleasure. Even with her clothes still on, the intensity with which I wanted to ravish her was overwhelming. I forced my tongue between her teeth, my hands cascading over the most sensitive parts of her body as she reacted to my touch, her hips pushing against me in a seductive dance. I could feel her body responding to me—could feel the shocking desire as though it was coursing through my bloodstream. Never in my life had I wanted a woman like I wanted Sam in that very instant.
Still supported against the wall, Sam kicked off her shoes, allowing me to reach my hand down and undo the button on her jeans. As the pants slid off her, her fingers lingered under my belt, teasing me. In a flash, I yanked Sam’s shirt up and tossed it away before unclasping her bra with one hand, admiring the way her bare breasts felt against me. Her skin was warm and soft.
I kissed her again, panting as Sam’s body rocked against me. Her fingers fumbled with the button of my pants only briefly before she unbuttoned them, allowing me to slide out of my jeans. I felt her slender legs wrap around my midsection, begging me to enter her. She was silent now, not speaking between the quiet gasps of pleasure that only made me want her more. With one free hand, I slipped her panties off, resting my fingers near her most sensitive spot, teasing her as she had done to me. She was wet, and I listened to her groan as I slipped one finger inside, feeling her tighten with accepting desire. We kissed again, tongues teasing, and I wrapped her hair around my hand and pulled, which only seemed to turn Sam on more.
“Now,” she murmured. Her voice was so quiet I could barely hear her. “Take me.”
And so I did. I pushed himself inside of her, driven by her unmistakable groans of pleasure. I closed my eyes, focusing, unable to grasp how good she felt against my body—so real; so right. Sam threw her head back, rocking her hips against my own. I sucked on her freckled neck, noticing the subtle but pleasant smell of peach lotion on her skin. As she cried out, I went faster, unable to remember the last time I had felt so good during sex. But this wasn't just sex. This was pure ecstasy.
I knew she was nearing a finish when her groans turned into choked screams of desire, and I pulled back, wanting to savor this for as long as possible. She tugged at me, tightening her legs, and begging with her eyes, and I paused, pulling her away from the wall to carry her toward the bedroom. She didn't object, so I laid her down on the bed and then knelt over her, admiring the way her breasts rose and fell with her anxious breathing. As our lips and bodies met once more, I held onto her at that moment, embracing everything that she was to me—a childhood friend. A companion. Lately, just an acquaintance. But overall, she was so much more to me—she seemed to be the missing piece to my puzzle.
Sam
I was exhausted. I was worn out. Every limb seemed stiff and sore as though I'd just run a marathon. But damn—I felt good. No, I felt better than good. I felt at that moment like anything and everything that had ever happened in my life—good and bad—was nothing compared to being with Nick.
Arching my back in a stretch, I rolled over toward him, his hands tangling my fingers with his. Six orgasms in two hours must have been a personal record for my sex life—and I meant for myself. Before Nick, I wasn't even certain that sort of thing existed in women.
“Thank you, Nick,” I said, “for doing what you did for me at the club.”
He looked down at me, squeezing my hand. “I could never live with myself if something happened to you that I could prevent,” he said. “I've always cared about you, Sam.”
“Even when we hated each other in high school?” I asked with a grin. I felt Nick's chest rise with a sigh beneath my head.
“Especially then,” he said. “I had the most pathetic crush on you.”
“No way.” I sat up, pulling the sheet around my breasts. “You had a crush on me in high school?” I was tangled in the sheets, one leg linked with Nick's. “I had no idea.”
“Well, I knew you didn't feel the same way, so I always figured it was pointless to tell you,” Nick said. “I made Emily promise to keep her mouth shut, too.”
“Why did you like me?” I asked curiously. “I mean, what was it about me that drew you in?” I was sober now—I had been for a while. And as much as I figured I should be ashamed of sleeping with Nick, I wasn't. Not even a little bit.
“Honestly, so many things,” he said. I didn't shy away as he raised his callused fingers to my face and touched my skin. �
��You were—well, are—so different, Sam. You have this unique beauty about you, and you're so, so determined. You go after what you want and don't stop until you have it. That was always so compelling to me.”
“I thought you said I was mean,” I said, allowing the tip of my finger to drift over the skin on his abdomen. I leaned in and kissed his neck, sucking gently on the skin. Nick swallowed, and I could feel him getting excited against my leg.
“You were mean,” he said. “And pushy and easily annoyed and severely impatient. But you were also very kind and compassionate toward those you loved. Besides, I think the bitch-act was just a façade—like a shell of some sort.”
“You think you know me?” I murmured in his ear. My fingers trailed even farther down his abdomen before slipping subtly under the elastic on his boxers.
“I do know you,” Nick said, and a tiny gasp of pleasure escaped his lips. “I've known you better than anyone has ever known you, Sam.” He caught my hand then, catching me off guard, forcing me to look into his eyes. “I do know you,” he said again. “And I think that scares the hell out of you.”
Sam
“You did what?”
“I slept with Nick.” I cradled the cell phone between my ear and shoulder, wincing. I hadn’t felt bad about it. I’d enjoyed every single moment. Until now, anyway.
“I can't believe you,” Tasha said. There was a pause and then, “Was it good?”
“Eh.” I sat down on the edge of the bed, admiring my fingernails. I smiled. “It was—phenomenal.” Tasha whistled softly between her teeth, and I could practically envision her drooling on the other side of the phone.
“I knew it would be,” she said. “There's no way that a guy with a smoking hot body like that could be bad in the sack.”
I fell back against the pillow, thinking of Nick's hands on my body. Just fantasizing about it made my skin crawl with desire.
“You don't think it was a mistake, do you?” I asked. “I mean, am I going to hell for sleeping with my dead best friend's twin brother?”
“Probably,” Tasha said. “But it was worth it, right?”
I laughed.
“Seriously, Sam, it's fine. Douche-bag Richard cheated on you and then dumped you—you're not in a relationship, and you're not cheating on anybody. Is he?”
“I don't think so,” I said. “He was dating this bimbo named Lindsay, but they broke up a few weeks ago.”
“Well, there you go, then,” Tasha said. “That's your answer. You did nothing wrong, and neither did he.”
“What about Piper?” I asked. “What happens if things go sour between Nick and me and Piper has to deal with the aftermath?”
“You can cross that bridge if you come to it,” Tasha said. “But for now, enjoy this. You're young, Sam. Be young.”
Nick
I leaned back in the patio chair, lacing my hands behind my head as I listened to Paul ramble. I’d only really caught one or two things—and that was all thanks to Sam. She had been on my mind non-stop since I'd tiptoed out of bed this morning and made coffee. Piper was still at her friend’s house, and the morning had been wonderful. After eggs, however, she had become uptight suddenly, smiling less and looking distracted. She'd gone upstairs, and I hadn't seen her again before I'd left to meet Paul. I hoped everything was okay.
“Jesus, Barlow, you look like Cupid shot you in the nuts with his biggest arrow,” Paul said, pulling me back to reality. “Something on your mind?”
“No,” I said. I reached for my beer. “Not something, someone.”
“Ah.” Paul's eyebrows waggled, curious. “Do I know this someone?”
“I don't think so, no. She was my sister's best friend.”
“The woman you're raising the kid with?”
“That's the one.” I took a long swallow of my beer, remembering how good Sam's body had felt pressed up against me the night before. It was only a warm day in Seattle, but I was roasting.
“Of course you did,” Paul said with a scoff. “Of course you went for that one.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” I said with a laugh. Paul was shaking his head and mumbling under his breath as he signaled the server for another drink.
“If shit goes bad with this one, your life will never be the same.”
I watched my agent, feeling irritation grow in the pit of my stomach. He finished his beer and stood up to leave, throwing some crumpled bills down on the table.
“That doesn't matter anymore,” I said. “My life hasn't been the same since Emily died.”
Sam
I didn't know why I couldn't bring herself back to the house to see Nick—I was humiliated and angry, and staying far away from him seemed like the best thing for us both. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time—a night of wild sex with a hot guy and inhibitions down to nothing. Okay, even the after-sex company hadn't been so bad. It was the best I had felt since Emily's death—and yet, I couldn't bring myself to do it again. I had screwed the wrong person—with all the men in the city of Seattle, I had hopped in bed with my best friend's brother. Yeah, I was going to hell, and Nick would probably join me.
I reached into my pocket for my phone, feeling it buzz against my leg. I checked the screen, seeing Nick's smiling goofy face as he called me again. I pressed ignore and slipped the cell back into my pocket. I felt like a royal bitch—to fuck the guy and then ignore him—but I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't keep living with him, especially not with Piper in our lives. The kid would come first from now on, and seeing her uncle hook up with her mom's best friend would probably require a couple of years of therapy, at the very least. I couldn't be selfish. Keeping it platonic with Nick would be best for us all.
“I'm not a photographer, but if I had a camera you'd end up in the magazines,” someone said behind me. Startled, I turned around, coming face to face with a handsome man a little older than me. He was smiling, standing back as he admired me standing in front of the painted sky.
“I'm not sure whether to be offended or terrified,” I said with a grin. Briefly forgetting about Nick, I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders as the man stepped forward to introduce himself.
“I'm Frank,” he said, and I shook his hand. “I apologize. That was probably pretty creepy.”
“Maybe a little bit,” I agreed. “But is it bad to say I'm still totally flattered? I’m Sam.”
The guy, Frank, laughed. He had a nice laugh. And a sweet smile. And lovely hair. And he was distinguished, the kind of man you wouldn't find playing Chumbawamba at his sister's funeral. He seemed as accomplished as Richard had been, but his sense of humor was already leaps and bounds ahead.
“I know this is probably really random and weird, but you are very beautiful, and I was hoping you'd like to have dinner with me some time,” Frank said. When he grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement.
“That is very forward of you,” I said. “But what if I said I was married?”
“I'd say that you either just don't wear your ring, or you’re desperate to get rid of me.”
“Neither,” I said. I smiled. “I'd like that very much, actually.”
“Can I pick you up tomorrow at seven?” Frank reached into his pocket and tapped something into his calendar.
“That would be—fine,” I said, thinking of Nick. No way was I going to refuse a date with a guy this handsome so I wouldn’t hurt Nick's feelings. Besides, we weren't an item. A night of sex was just that and nothing more.
After exchanging information and bidding goodbye to Frank, I got on the bus and headed back to the apartment, knowing that Piper would be home tonight. As much as I wanted to stay away from Nick and avoid the awkward, fumbling small talk, I knew I had to go back for Piper. Once I had my own place, Piper could choose where to stay.
“Hi, Aunt Sam!” Piper called as I came through the door. I smiled and took off my shawl to hang it on the coat rack.
“How was the sleepover?” I asked. Piper was hunc
hed over the coffee table, a plate of cookies sitting next to an open history book. Nick was on the couch on his computer, feet up and ankles crossed. He glanced at me, and then looked pointedly away.
“It was so much fun,” Piper said. “We made sugar cookies and cupcakes.”
“And you didn't even bring any home for us?” Nick joked. He was looking at me now, but I flushed and looked away as I went to the kitchen for a glass of wine. Piper was oblivious as she hummed and went back to her cookies and homework, but I felt like I was standing on a field in a stadium of ten thousand people and each person had their eyes on me. I took a seat in the recliner near the couch and pulled out my phone, doing anything to keep myself from staring at Nick.
“You know, I called you a few times,” he said finally, and I knew I had no choice but to look at him. When I did, I was surprised to see no anger in his eyes, but something that resembled sadness, like I'd pushed him down and taken his toy.
“Yeah, I know, my phone’s been acting weird,” I said. I cleared my throat and glanced down at Piper, who was still absorbed in her book.
“Do you want me to look at it?” Nick asked. When I looked at him again, my eyes scanned his face, taking in everything about him that had pleased me so intensely the night before. As I took another drink, I knew it wasn't the wine that had just sent a tingle through my stomach.
“No,” I said quickly. “I think it's fixed.” I nodded, but even when I looked away, I could see that his eyes were still on me, silently. The longer he stared, the more I felt the embers burn inside me. It was like a slow-starting fire with Nick—hot, intense, and barely controllable after a certain point. As I met his gaze, I thought of Frank, remembering our date tomorrow night. I wouldn't tell Nick—at least not yet. It wasn't his business anyway.
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