“And you just assumed it was me. Having sex with someone else in my room.”
Ouch. Does she need to say it like that? “Yes?”
She slits her eyes, her lips pressed so firmly together the surrounding skin whitens. And then she kicks me in the shin.
“Damn it,” I hiss. “I said I was sorry.” I look up from checking my leg for bruises—one’s already forming—and I notice a gloss to her eyes.
“Are you crying?”
A tear slides down her cheek and she bats it away. Shit. She is crying. I stand up, wanting to comfort her, but she puts her hand up in warning.
“I listened to that song over and over, trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong. I played it on repeat, trying to come up with some reason you’d do this to me. I couldn’t understand… And it’s all because you thought I was hooking up with another guy?”
Both of her hands disappear into her hair as she combs it out of her face. She starts pacing and I watch her silently. She’s been right all these years.
I’m an asshole.
And stupid.
But mostly an asshole.
Annie whirls around to face me, her hair falling right back into her face. “The hardest part for me,” she murmurs, “is how you could think—even for a second—I would want anyone in my room, unless it was you.”
Unless it was you.
I freeze. Every inch of me is still, except for my heart, racing inside of my chest.
Unless it was you.
“You want me in your room?”
She licks her lips and shoves her hair off her shoulders. “I want you…”
“You want me to what?” I ask carefully.
She shakes her head. “That’s it.” She swallows tightly. “I want you.”
I take a step, and then another until my chest is brushing hers. I lift my hand, skimming it across her cheek. I wait for it, but it never comes. She doesn’t flinch. Her gaze holds mine with determination. I can see myself reflected in her eyes and I know with certainty that’s how I always want it to be.
I bring my other hand up and gently guide her head back, angling her mouth closer to mine. I smooth my thumb over her parted lips, softly, but with enough pressure to make the plump skin move. They’re like velvet. I can feel the warmth of her breath. The moisture of her mouth. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so much.
Each heartbeat that passes while I touch her like this is agony. But the best kind.
I move in until I can taste her breath on my tongue. “I want you too,” I whisper into her mouth. I slide my tongue across her bottom lip, groaning at the sweet flavor. I nibble there for a moment, savoring.
Annie gasps and then moans against my lips.
Fuck.
Her hands trail up my bare stomach, my muscles clench and spasm in response to her soft caress. She stops on the back of my neck, her fingers locking firmly. Standing on the tips of her toes, she arches her body into me until all our points are touching. Her hips flex into mine. I drop one hand to her back, pressing her closer.
“Annie?”
Her breathing is erratic. Her eyes pinched closed. And her lips… God her lips are parted, waiting. Wet and ready for me.
“Hm?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
She nods, causing our mouths to brush once, twice, three times. She whimpers in her throat and I feel it coarse through my body. Hot and needy.
I lick my lips, but we’re so close, I catch hers as well. She quivers, her chest trembling against mine. I close my eyes and finely, finely press my mouth flush against hers. She opens for me immediately, her tongue searching.
We both make a noise at the first contact. Something primal and appreciative. I’m so hungry for her. My hands hook around the curve just below her ass and I pull her closer. Press into her harder. I’ve never been allowed to touch her like this. Taste her. Feel her. I don’t want to stop. I don’t think I would even know how.
Annie’s leg glides up mine. Higher. Higher. The movement brings us closer together. It’s the sweetest torture. I skim my hand over her leg, hooking it around my hip, and then I pick her up. Her other leg naturally wraps around my waist and I step back until I find the couch. Falling back heavily, Annie securely in my arms, I hit somewhere in the middle, jostling us, but never breaking the kiss.
As if on instinct, Annie sways her pelvis, rubbing against my lap. She’s so warm. Everything she’s doing feels incredible. But I’m a greedy bastard because I want more.
I find the hem of her thin tank top and push it up, exposing her stomach. I love the way it feels, skin to skin. I slip my hand inside and let my thumb trail the under curve of her breast. I want to do so much more, but I know I need to take it slow. It’s taken us over six years to get here. I don’t want to scare her off. She shifts, giving me better access to touch her more, which surprises me as much as it excites me. She’s not scared—she wants me to touch her.
So I do.
I go higher, working my fingers into her bra. She sighs when I meet her naked skin. My other hand skims up her leg, continues through an opening in her pajama shorts—the ones I’ve always loved—and I caress her. She feels damp and swollen, and so incredibly good.
I freeze, one hand inside Annie’s shorts, the other up her shirt. She pulls back, looking at me questioningly.
I reluctantly remove my hands from inside her clothes and pull her shirt down. “I want you so badly,” I growl. “But I don’t want to take this farther than you’re ready for.” It’s a question, not a rejection.
She stands up, her cheeks red, her hair falling to shield her from my view.
“Okay,” Annie utters. “That’s probably a good…a good idea.” She exhales roughly. “Guy’s probably wondering where I am.”
I adjust myself and pull her back into my lap, brushing my fingers through her hair. It’s messy, tangled, and I grin because I know I did that. She looks perfect like this. Disheveled hair, pink cheeks, sitting on my lap.
“You’re staying with him tonight?” She nods stiffly and I narrow my eyes. “I’ll take you back—I want to make sure you get in okay. But I need to know that you’re leaving because it’s late and you don’t want Guy to worry. Not because of this.” I gesture from her chest to mine, and then trail my thumb over her red and puffy lips. “You aren’t running from me, are you?”
Her eyes meet mine and she smiles softly. “No. No running.”
“Good,” I say. “Because, regardless of my name, with this hard-on, I don’t think I could chase you.”
37
Something Real
Annie
I couldn’t sleep last night and it had nothing to do with Guy’s couch—it’s actually extremely comfortable. It was the fact I was incapable of turning my mind off. All I could think about was Chase. That kiss. And what it will mean for us. Plus, I was so physically worked up, I actually contemplated…easing the tension myself on my step-brother’s couch. I couldn’t get past the awkwardness, so I ended up tossing and turning until the sun rose. I finally nodded off just in time for Guy to wake me while he banged around in the kitchen.
After borrowing his shower and getting myself ready for the day, I feel a little less like I got an hour of sleep and a lot more like a fifteen year old girl who just got asked to prom. I’m…almost giddy.
I bounce into the small kitchen and join Guy at the tiny folding table with mismatched chairs for a cup of coffee. Guy may not know his way around an oven to save his life, but the boy can make a mean-ass Carmel macchiato. I inhale the sweet aroma and sigh.
“You are my savior,” I say as I finger up some whipped cream and lick it off. “You have no idea how much I needed this today.” I grin before taking a long sip.
“What’s wrong with you?” Guy asks suspiciously. He flicks his finger, gesturing at me. “You’re all…bubbly.”
Regardless of cheering through my high school years, I have never been mistaken for bubbly before. Bitchy, boring, bold, b
latant, blonde, these are all my B descriptives.
I think I like bubbly.
I shrug as I take another drink. “Must be you,” I say wistfully.
His eyebrow rises as his head tips forward disbelievingly. “Mm-hm.” Smirking at me, Guy pushes his chair back and places his cup in the sink. “I have class. Lock up when you leave.” He pauses in the doorway, glancing at me over his shoulder. “And don’t clean anything. I like my shit exactly where it is.”
Damn. I was totally going to alphabetize his movies as soon as he was out the door. It had bothered me all night while I tried pointlessly to sleep. I almost got up four different times to do it, but was afraid I’d wake him. I follow him into the living room, hands on my hips. “Whatever. Enjoy your disorganized life.”
“It’s not disorganized,” he corrects me. “It’s controlled chaos and it works well for me.”
Controlled chaos.
“Now there’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”
“You’re an oxymoron,” Guy states as he picks up his backpack. He smiles proudly as he pulls the door open. “Don’t touch my stuff.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “Your mess is safe. I promise.”
Before he has the chance to reply with whatever shitty comment he has ready on the tip of his tongue, Chase is gliding down the hallway with a heart-melting grin.
“What’s up, man?” Guy says. “I was just on my way out.”
“I’m not here for you,” Chase answers. He squeezes past Guy and strolls straight toward me.
Panic fills my chest. I don’t know why, and I can’t explain it, but I completely freak out inside. As Chase stops in front of me, extending his hands to place them on—I don’t even know where, my hips, maybe?—I step sideways, ducking out of his reach.
Guy shuts the door behind him, leaving Chase and I alone, and I have the strongest desire to bolt after him.
“What the hell?”
I look away from the door, Chase’s voice drawing my attention back to him. His eyes are narrowed, watching me with disappointment.
“You said ‘no running,’” he reminds me.
“I’m not running,” I squeak.
The way he smells, fresh from the shower, has my belly clenching as he moves closer. I take a step back. He sighs as he drags his long fingers through his hair. It’s still wet and he looks agonizingly sexy.
“Back away from me one more damn time. I dare you.”
I blink in surprise. And then I cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t tell me what to do,” I say. It’s meant to be strong, forceful, but my voice quivers and the tone is completely off. I don’t know if it has more to do with the fear of talking back to a man now, or the fact that this is Chase, and I don’t know how to act.
Part of me wants to jump into his arms and pick up exactly where we left off last night. My body is still throbbing for him. From the memory of his hands on me. His fingers. His lips. His tongue…
But there’s this other part that’s so scared, and I don’t even know of what. Or why. Or…
“I didn’t tell you what to do,” Chase says, his husky voice breaking into my mangled thoughts. “I dared you.”
I tilt my head to the side, my hands slipping to my hips. He dares me? What is that supposed to mean? “That sounds like a threat.”
He doesn’t reply. The only indication he heard me is the cocky arching of his brow.
So I take another step back.
But here’s the ridiculous part… I’m shaking as I do it.
Two years ago, I would have immediately taken five of the biggest steps I could just to prove to him I wasn’t scared. And I’m not, theoretically, scared of Chase, but Loden has instilled this fear in me that, regardless of the time that’s passed, I can’t seem to get past.
My fight or flight reflex is always activated.
Chase stalks toward me and I continue to back up with each of his strides. Until I hit the wall.
He pauses in front of me, not touching. His hands move slowly, settling on either side of my head. My heart is racing. From fear.
From fear that he’s going to kiss me.
From fear that he won’t.
From fear that I don’t know what he’s going to do.
I take a stuttering breath as Chase leans in, his nose skimming my cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I knew you’d run.” His soft lips brush my ear, his breath warm against my skin, causing goose bumps to prickle across my arms. I shiver. “I’ll just need to give you a reason to run back.”
He shifts, his mouth hovering in front of mine. My cheeks are on fire. My entire body is burning. For him. The anticipation is too much. I inch forward, just my head, lifting my chin. I’m relenting, giving myself to him. All he needs to do is take me. But he just looks at me, his eyes watching me fixedly.
“I don’t… I don’t think we should tell anybody,” I murmur.
He doesn’t budge as he asks, “Tell anybody what?”
I lick my lips, my eyes focused on his mouth as he forms each word. “About us.”
His arms bend, bringing him closer. His chest is flush against mine. I can feel the pounding of his heart. The rough shadow on his cheek. His hair, warm and slightly damp as it falls forward.
“How can I tell anybody about us when I don’t know what we are?” He lowers his head, nestling his face into my neck. He inhales deeply as his tongue sweeps the sensitive skin at the base. “You’re in control here, Annie. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
Something comes apart with his words. Something inside of me that has held me together for my entire life. I know, because I feel it break. I feel myself break.
What do I want?
I don’t know.
But I know it involves him.
“I want…” I swipe my tongue across my lips as he pulls back enough to meet my eyes. I take a deep breath, forcing my chest to press into his tightly. And then I try again.
“I want…” I close my eyes and sigh. “I want you to kiss me.”
A beat goes by. Neither of us moves. Another beat and I open my eyes. Chase is staring at me, his gaze searing. Desire pools in my stomach, hot and unyielding. I’m trembling and it has nothing to do with fear.
And then his lips move against mine, rough, but slow. As if he’s drawing it out, taking his time, and savoring, but it’s taking all his strength to do so. It’s not the unrestrained hunger of last night, but it’s somehow more powerful. My toes curl into the carpet and my hands fist into his shirt.
I feel almost…crazed…as I clutch him closer to me. I want to burrow into him. I want him everywhere around me, but I hold it back. Each brush of his tongue sets me closer to losing my mind. His taste in my mouth, minty and something that’s all Chase, mixed with the sweet caramel and whipped cream from my coffee, has me forcing my lips harder to his.
I was wrong. This is my happiest of happy places. Right here.
And then I realize—controlled chaos.
That’s exactly what Chase and I are.
38
Do You Realize
Chase
I can’t say it feels good that Annie wants to keep our…relationship?...on the down. It feels shitty as hell. But I knew she’d do this, so at least I prepared myself. I’m not Annie’s typical type. I know that. She likes Boy Scouts and hardworking, smart guys. She wants somebody with khakis and a bountiful bank account. I don’t have jack to offer her other than I’m better than Loden.
And that’s not saying much.
The thing is…Annie makes me want to be more. She makes me want to get my shit together and grow up. Be the man she needs me to be.
But I still want to be me, too. Ya know?
I know I need to find a balance. I just haven’t figured out how yet. And there’s this part of me I keep buried deep inside that wonders why she can’t accept me for who I am. Why can’t I be enough to make her happy?
I look in the mirror and kick that part of me back int
o the corner where it belongs because I can’t blame her. She’s working her ass off to make something of herself and I can barely make it through my classes. It’s normal for her to expect more from me. I know I need to man up. But can I do it with my bass strapped to my back and tattoos on my skin?
I think so.
But I’m not sure she does.
I’ve waited so long for this. I’m not going to complain. I’m going to go with the flow because I’d rather deal with it than lose her. And who knows? Maybe I’ll grow on her. I mean, I already did, right? It took six years, but she came around. If I can keep her from running away from me then we’ll have a pretty good start.
I’ll continue to touch her in private—keep it from our friends—despite how wrong it feels. If that’s what she wants then I’ll do it. Hell, it won’t be hard. Everybody else is growing up. They have school and jobs, relationships or a kid. Everybody moved out and moved on. They’re all too busy with their own lives to pay attention to what’s happening in my and Annie’s lives.
It’s sad, but true.
They’re all still my closest friends—and they always will be—but time, man… It changes shit. It changes people. Priorities shift and everybody starts wanting to spend most of their time with that one person.
Damn. Maybe I am growing up.
Or maybe growing up and love are somehow tied together.
Listen to me, all profound and whatnot.
~*~
“Did I tell you Park and Lucy are getting married?” I say to Annie as I lie on her bed, her head on my shoulder. I hold up our hands, her palm flat against mine, and compare sizes. I can close the tops of my fingers over hers, dwarfing them.
“Mm-hm,” she says sleepily. “In a couple months.”
I nod, my chin brushing against her hair, and I smile as I slip my fingers in between hers. I love the way her skin feels against mine. She’s so soft and smooth.
“I still can’t believe Park’s a dad.”
She laughs quietly as she lowers her head back to my shoulder. She snuggles in. Her lips caressing my neck, making me tug her closer.
“Is it weird I’m excited?”
“Not really,” she says. “But aren’t you worried about them?”
I shrug again and lay her hand on my stomach, my hand on top of hers. “No. I think they’ll be okay. They love each other.”
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