by Piper Rayne
“Now? What changed when you were willing to date me before?”
“Truth?” he mimics my earlier answer.
“Yeah.”
“I hadn’t been around the two of you enough at that point. Didn’t know it was a lost cause until I felt the vibe you two give off when you’re together.”
“Vibe?”
“This charged chemistry. I’m a firefighter, so I’m not really afraid of much, but once the two of you decide to finally drop the barrier between you, I don’t want to be within five miles.” He laughs and buries his head in the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and bacon.
It’s disturbing that we’re that transparent in front of other people. First Allie and now Lou. I worry Samantha is going to feel uneasy if she senses what Lou is between us. People mistake it for sexual tension, but sometimes it’s plain old uncomfortableness because I have no idea how to act in front of Kingston. He’s known these people we’re in the house with, and I’m new to the group. That brings out a shyness in me I never knew existed until now. It’s awkward when you’re around someone who, at one point in your life, knew you better than you knew yourself and now is somewhat of a stranger to you.
“Well, I don’t see that happening, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
Lou cracks the eggs on the bowl with one hand and I find myself impressed by the maneuver. Maybe because I suck at cooking, even though my mom could be a gourmet chef. Her bed-and-breakfast guests rave all over Yelp about her mac and cheese, but I didn’t get her talent in the gene pool lottery.
“Can I ask why?” he asks.
I stand from the stool and round the counter, pulling out the frying pan. To help him or hinder him, we’ll see what the end result is. “Sometimes it feels like there’s this invisible electric fence between us and the minute we step over, we get zapped.”
He raises both eyebrows.
“There’s just a long past between us. Not all good.” I open up the bacon package because my sous chef skills are slightly better than my cooking skills after helping my mom in the kitchen over the years.
“It’s funny, you’re kind of like a secret past of Kingston’s.”
I stop after putting one slice in the frying pan. He takes out a fork and whisks all one dozen eggs.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
He glances over his shoulder at me. “Before you came to town, I thought I knew everything about Kingston. I knew about his parents dying, about all of his siblings, baseball, and even his arm being injured. But I never heard your name out of his mouth. He left you out of his past. I’ve never seen anyone have this effect on him.”
I ignore the deep gash left behind from Lou’s comment about Kingston never talking about me. Even one of my med school friends knew about Kingston because I had a hard time not mentioning him when we talked about exes one day. He was never officially my ex, but he still felt like the one who’d slipped away.
“What effect is that?” I ask.
“Tortured? Or unresolved maybe? It’s hard to explain. Maybe he just wanted to keep you all to himself.”
I laugh. “I was in New York. He couldn’t keep me all to himself.”
Lou’s hip lands next to mine at the stove and I feel awkward that he’s this close. “I meant that he wanted to keep whatever memories the two of you share to himself. He didn’t want anyone else butting in with their opinions because it might change the way he remembers things or remembers you.”
I mindlessly place the rest of the bacon in the frying pan. I jump out of the way when they crackle and sizzle.
Lou takes the tongs from my hands. “Yeah, I have a feeling you’re not a cook?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re using a tiny frying pan and you’ve weaved the bacon so that it’s all going to stick together into one sheet.”
I step back to give him space because he’s right, I’m no cook. But then I wrap my arms around his back in a friendly hug, grateful he’s let me off the hook so easy and shared with me how he thinks Kingston views me.
“Thank you for understanding, Lou,” I whisper.
He shakes his head and his hand touches the one I have wrapped around him. “I’m not an asshole who chases what isn’t his. I just didn’t know how deep you two ran.”
I nod with my head on his back because he pinned it right. Kingston and I run so deep, I’m not sure either one of us will ever climb out of the hole we dug for ourselves, no matter how hard we try.
Kingston rounds the corner and freezes. I slide my hands back from around his best friend faster than a thief pickpocketing a wallet. But the quiet fury in Kingston’s eyes, says he saw.
“Hey, you two.” He replaces his scowl with a smile and walks all the way into the kitchen.
He isn’t wearing a T-shirt and my eyes are glued to his abs as if adhesive is binding them there.
“Hey, King. I’m making breakfast,” Lou says.
I clear my throat and grab my coffee. Kingston enters the small galley of the kitchen prep area and his hand lands on my hip, sliding me out of the way.
“Excuse me, Stella,” Kingston says as if he touches me every day. If he did, I’m sure there wouldn’t be a current circling the area he touched like a bullseye.
“Sure. How did you sleep?” I ask, doing my best to sound unaffected.
He pours his coffee, then opens the fridge and grabs the milk before tipping no more than a dash into the cup. Last night, he did most of the cooking, so he knows his way around the kitchen already, opening up a drawer and pulling out a spoon. “Great. How about you two?”
Instead of staying in his place, he squeezes by me again with his hand on my hip once more, except this time he winks. My stomach thinks we’re on a roller coaster. It can’t stop delving from the depths of anguish to the highs of exhilaration.
Kingston sits on a stool and sips his coffee without ever blowing into the cup.
“I slept good,” I say.
“Like a rock,” Lou adds, continuing to flip the bacon in a new frying pan. “What’s on your agenda today? Heli-skiing?”
Kingston looks at me and his gaze dips to my chest. I follow his vision to see I’m nipping like it’s forty below. I place the coffee mug on the counter and zip my hoodie shut. Kingston chuckles into his coffee.
Lou turns his attention to Kingston. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about something from the other day.”
“What?” Lou asks.
I narrow my eyes at Kingston, and it spurs him to chuckle again. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s an inside joke.”
“I see how it is.” Lou pretends to be offended, then he hums a song I don’t recognize.
I lean forward to grab my book off the counter, figuring I’ll scatter to a secluded area of the house and enjoy my coffee since I’m not a breakfast person.
But Kingston snatches my book before I can grab it. “Whose is this?” He leans back and props a bare foot on the stool next to him.
Don’t ask me why I have a thing for feet, but I do. Kingston’s are corded with veins and each nail is trimmed like he just got a pedicure yesterday. It says something when a man takes care of his feet.
“It’s mine.” I reach for it again, but he raises it up higher. When I round the counter, he stands, putting his palm on my forehead as though I’m one of his sisters.
“Kingston.”
He holds the book in the air. “Is this what you’ve resorted to, Stella? Get this tagline, Lou… Who knew my brother’s friend could be Mr. Right, and not just Mr. Right Now?” He continues to read the rest of the blurb, giving him and Lou a good laugh.
Having a little bit of dignity left, I stop trying to reach for it and stand with my arms crossed.
“Enjoy your read.” Kingston winks again, and I want to staple his eyelid open.
“What has you two acting holier than thou? You telling me you don’t surf the net for porn looking to get your fix? I�
��ll bet you both have playlists arranged in order of viewing preference. At least mine has a happily ever after.”
“Oh, ours have happy endings, too,” Kingston says with a chuckle.
I roll my eyes and hold out my hand. He places the book in my palm. I snatch it back. “No judging.”
He holds up both hands. “I’m not judging. If you want, I’m happy to read it to you.”
“Why would that be?”
Tank and Stump walk into the room from the side bedroom, each of them in the clothes they wore last night, now wrinkled. Lou talks to them.
Kingston takes the opportunity of his friends’ distraction to lean in close. “Because when you’re horny after reading all the hot sex scenes, I’ll be the closest male.”
My body floods with heat as though I’m lying on a Mexican beach in the middle of summer. “You wish.”
“You’re right. I do.”
I roll my eyes and storm out of the room, forgetting my coffee cup. Circling back around, I grab it off the counter.
Tank gives me a weird look at the same time that Samantha barrels into the room wearing her long underwear and her hair in a cute ponytail that bounces from side to side. “Today’s the day, boys. Be there or be square.” She runs her hand on my arm. “Morning, Stella.”
“Helicopter?” I ask, forgetting for a moment what Lou was talking about a minute ago.
She smiles, accepting her cup of coffee from Stump. “Yeah, we’re taking a helicopter up to the top of the mountain to ski down. I think Kingston might be using his parachute.” She looks to Kingston for clarification before saying to me, “Did you want to come? I didn’t figure you for an adrenaline junkie.”
I’m staring at Kingston because here we go again with him trying to kill himself.
“Nah, Stella’s idea of adrenaline is the moguls,” he says.
I narrow my eyes, unzip my sweatshirt, and walk right past him, enjoying how his gaze falls to my swaying breasts and my nips that are out for him to see but not touch. He says nothing, and I head to the stairs and the bathroom downstairs. Shutting the door behind me, I inhale a deep breath and release it. First order of business? Extinguish the ache between my thighs.
Eighteen
Kingston
What is she trying to do? I watch the sway of Stella’s tits in her threadbare T-shirt and my mouth waters like a fucking faucet. Was that some sort of tease to say I’ll never have my hands on those? The woman is a fucking sadist.
“Romeo?” Lou’s voice interrupts me checking out her ass.
I clear my throat, crossing my fingers that Lou didn’t see me gawking at the woman he’s dating. Pushing Stella and her more-than-a-handful of tits from my mind, I join the rest of them in the prep area. “What’s up?”
“Breakfast.”
Lou stares at me for longer than a fleeting glance. Shit, he probably did see me.
“I’m so stoked. I could barely sleep.” Samantha takes a seat at the table and props a leg up on the edge of her chair, eating a slice of bacon.
“You coming, Stump?” I clasp my hand on his shoulder. He’s not usually up for things like Tank is, so I’m thinking it’ll just be the three of us.
“Nah. I’m heading out with Lou, Allie, and Stella. You assholes can do all that death-defying shit.”
Tank smiles and forks another helping of eggs into his mouth.
“Explain the concept to me.” Lou sits on the counter.
The rest of us are standing around instead of joining Samantha at the table to eat like civilized people.
“What concept?” Tank mumbles.
I’m sick of having conversations about what I choose to do with my life and body. My adrenaline needs a little more heart gallops than a normal person does to get going. So the fuck what? It’s not their life I’m jeopardizing; it’s mine.
“The why of it,” Lou says.
Tank glances to me then at Samantha before laughing.
“It’s the exhilaration.” Samantha sips her coffee. “The adrenaline is a rush and when you’re done…” Samantha shares a look with Tank.
He nods. “It’s an aphrodisiac for sure.”
Samantha nods. “Definitely.”
Huh, I never get that feeling. I’m wired after and I usually want to do it all over again, but I’ve never felt like I wanted to have sex after. Then again, I wouldn’t have complained if it was offered.
“Really?” Lou asks, hopping down from the counter and loading a plate with eggs and bacon before putting it in the microwave.
“And the sex after…” Samantha says.
Again, Samantha and Tank share a look as though they’ve experienced it together at one time. I’ve never heard any rumors of them sleeping together.
“The best,” Tanks says.
Shit, I really am missing out.
“You too, Romeo?” Stump asks me.
Samantha and Tank’s eyes focus in on me.
I’m embarrassed to admit the truth, but I don’t lie. “I’ve never had sex after.”
“Never?” Samantha asks, disbelieving.
“I’m usually doing this shit with buddies so…” I shrug.
“But you go to bars after, right? You’ve never picked someone up? Or hooked up on a group excursion?”
I shake my head. “Nope.” I’m not really the guy who fucks around with random chicks. There was a time in my life, those first years after high school, when I did, but it got old really quick.
“Man, you’re missing out,” Tank says.
“I will say, it’s best when you’re both on that high.” Samantha raises her hand.
Tank nods. “Definitely. Shit, you know how many times I’ve broken a bed afterward?”
Samantha chuckles and slides out of the chair. “I gotta go get ready. You’re making me horny now, Tank. Thanks for that.”
“I can always help that situation, you know?” he says to her back.
She flips him off.
“Dumbass, she’s with Kingston,” Lou says.
Lou saw Samantha and me at Tipsy that night and he’s asked me a few questions—that I avoided answering—about what’s going on. I don’t want to out Samantha’s history, so I never told him much, but he obviously thinks we’re a thing.
“You fuckers hungry? Hello? I’m the one who bought the food.” Allie walks in wearing her pajama pants, fuzzy socks, and oversized sweatshirt. She looks like a child.
“I made you a plate. It’s in the microwave,” Lou says.
Allie hugs him briefly. “At least one of you Neanderthals has manners.” After pulling the plate out of the microwave, Allie grabs a fork, hops up onto the counter, crossing her legs to face us, and digs in. “What should we have for dinner tonight?”
Stump shakes his head. “You’re so little. Where does all that food go?”
She eyes his plate. He’s added a Pop-Tart someone brought, along with more eggs and bacon than any of us. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Should I put some aside for Stella?” I ask, realizing she’s the only one in the house who hasn’t eaten yet.
“Nah, she’s not a breakfast person,” Lou says.
I’m not going to lie, it’s as if a jagged piece of glass just lodged itself in my chest. I finish off my meal and place my dish in the sink. “I’m going to get ready. Thanks for breakfast, Lou.”
Tank is quick to follow me. He turns down the hallway to his room off the main living area while I head to the lower level where the other bedrooms are.
The bathroom door opens, and my feet come to an abrupt stop. Stella emerges, steam filling the small hallway. She’s got a shower cap on, and she’s wrapped in a plush white towel.
“Sorry.” I step to the side, but she does too, having no choice but to walk in front of me to reach her room. I wave for her to go. “Please go ahead.”
“Thanks.” She ducks her head and walks in front of me.
I try to not ogle her body, but I can’t deny my eyes stray a few times. Whoops.
I walk by once she’s at the door of her room.
I’m at my own room, two down on the right, when she says, “King?”
I turn to face her. “Yeah?”
“Can we be normal?”
“Normal?” I tilt my head.
“You know what I’m talking about. I feel like we’re the buzzkills of this place.”
Her shoulders slouch as though she’s defeated. Ruining her fun was never my intention, but it’s hard to see her with someone else. Like I’m sixteen again, watching her laugh at another guy’s jokes in the hallway, and it fucking sucks.
“Yeah. I know.” I could say so much. Bring up the unresolved feelings I’m starting to realize are still very much alive inside me. Why did she leave that night without finishing our goodbye? Did she not care what happened? I never would’ve left her. Never.
“So, truce then?”
“Stella, I don’t hate you. I’m not mad. There’s nothing to have a truce over.”
“Can we just try to get back to that friendship like you wanted for us?”
God, that sounds like complete torture, but it’s probably the best I’ll get. “Sure. Want to celebrate by hopping on the helicopter with us?”
She shakes her head, but there’s the start of a smile forming. “You know the answer to that.”
“Yeah, I do.” I turn and put my hand on the doorknob of my room.
“Be careful, okay?”
I glance over my shoulder. “I’m always careful.”
I wink at her and she huffs. Once I’m in my room, I close my eyes and lean back against the door.
You got this. Friends and all that bullshit. We’ve been here before. Except I didn’t want to be there then and I sure as hell don’t want to be in the friend zone now.
“Holy shit!” Samantha yells when we reach the bottom of the hill.
Tank actually does scream, and our guide, Tim—whose name threw me at first because he’s roughly the age my father would be right now and shares the same name. He’s also tall and lean with the dark hair just like me—laughs at Tank.