by Lindsey Hart
“That’s not how that saying goes, buttface.”
“Because you’re how old again?”
“Shut up.”
“Yup. Thought so.”
Alix jammed her arms across her chest. He was right. She was acting like she was five. He always did bring out the worst in her. The worst, because she was so worried about being at her best, that it often felt like she fell flat on her face when he didn’t notice her or when he made fun of her even though she was trying so hard.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she shouldn’t try at all. It’s not like it would make any difference for him anyway.
“Where are you taking me anyway?”
He smirked at her as he passed another car at breakneck speed. “The greatest place on earth.”
“So, for a cheeseburger and a shake?”
“You got it, Alix Bear. You know me too well.”
Unfortunately, she did. It never stopped her wanting him. For some reason, it only made her want him more, all the dumb shit she knew about him.
She edged back into her seat, grabbed the holy shit handle on the door, and focused on trying not to die while Ross drove like it was his main mission in life to turn the car into a scorched bundle of flame.
Really, what did it matter if she ended up in flames? She’d always felt that way when Ross was around. Like her entire body was burning up, compliments of the plague that he was. She also knew that she was going to burn for what they were going to do. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind that instead of fixing herself, moving on, and getting her shit together, she was going straight to a self-induced purgatory instead.
CHAPTER 6
Ross
“Ice cream? That’s your idea of a classy date?” Alix sniffed as he pulled up to the walk-up ice cream shack that was so popular the lines extended down the block. She’d been there with him and Chance at least a dozen times a year until she graduated and moved away.
“Who said this was supposed to be classy? That wasn’t part of the conditions,” he fired back.
She turned to him as he parked the car and narrowed those golden eyes. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“Most of the time.” He shrugged.
“Let me guess. You’re having a double cheeseburger with no onions and extra mayo and a cherry shake.”
Ross clasped his hand to his chest. “You say you hate me, but you know my order off by heart. I think I’ve met my match.”
Alix flashed him a double bird before she climbed out of the car. She waited for him, though, on the sidewalk, instead of walking up by herself. He had a good second to admire her from the car when she wasn’t looking.
She wasn’t dressed in anything that unusual. Just skinny jeans and a cropped tank, but fuck. She looked unreal. Legs that went on forever. The curves she’d sprouted were in high definition in that tank and the skintight jeans. He’d caught sight of a glimpse of her skin under the tank and it did things to him. The same things that her flushed cheeks, flawless creamy skin, amber eyes, and never ending velvety soft chocolate brown hair did. Things that his own denim thankfully contained, but yeah. He was rock fucking hard. For his best friend’s little sister.
Looking at her was like being a horny thirteen-year-old and finding a dirty magazine stuffed under your dad’s bed, opening it up to the center, and being pleasantly surprised.
He prepared to find it disgusting, and when he didn’t he gave his head a shake, grabbed his wallet from the glove box, and got the hell out of the car.
He joined her on the sidewalk and, just to piss her off- because there could be no other reason for his existence, according to her, he slipped his hand through hers. Two can play at this fucked up game of yours.
A shudder that could only be revulsion and shock rustled through her where their fingers connected.
“You know,” he said, just because he’d always got a kick out of driving her nuts. It was what he did. It was what they did. “I think you actually still have a thing for me. That’s what this is all about.”
Alix wrenched her hand away. “I have a confession.”
“I knew it!”
She scowled. “It’s not what you think. This, this is strictly platonic. It’s an experiment. The confession I have is that I’ve been kissed quite a few times and it all sucked. I said that, but I don’t know if you were listening. Everyone seems to think you’re hot shit. I bought into that myself, back in the day when I was young and dumb and thought assholes were attractive. Oh wait. Maybe it was just that I wanted my brother’s best friend to take me to prom so I wouldn’t have to live down the humiliation of a lifetime.”
“And bang you after.”
“Like I said. Young and dumb. It would have been experimental back then too, if you recall.”
“Yes, I recall.” The thing was, she’d never said she actually had a thing for him. She’d asked him to take her v-card in the strangest, most platonic way ever. She said she wanted to get rid of it. That it was annoying. That it might as well be him. That didn’t imply she cared. It implied she found him safe.
He stuck out his hand again. “Let’s let the past be the past tonight. You want a platonic experiment, I’ll give you the platonic experiment of a lifetime, though those things might actually contradict each other. If you want a good kiss and that’s what all of this is about, to see if you’re broken or if they were all losers, and yes, I was listening, then I can do that. You want the whole experience. Take my hand. We’ll pretend this is a date. You have to get in the mindset, or the kiss isn’t going to be good, no matter what.”
“I’m crazy and it probably won’t be anyway, given that I hate you.”
“They’re pretty much the same thing, so don’t worry. I think you can find some stirring of emotion to get inspired by in that pretty little head of yours. You have a good brain. Make it produce some chemicals for you.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She stared at his hand like it was a viper.
“Ridiculous but true. You want that kiss to be good? Like the other women think it is? You want the full experience? Then let me warm you up. I’m not going into it cold. And I’m not walking away from this with you thinking that I don’t know how to do something as simple as kiss.”
“Maybe you don’t.”
He winked at her. “That’s not the general consensus. Now.” He skipped the hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, jamming her up against his side. It felt like someone had stuck their hand down his throat, grabbed his lungs, and was trying to wrestle them out. His cock agreed. It hurt just about as much. Then again, the stupid jeans he was wearing were a Christmas gift from his mom and he put them on to humor her, even though they were too tight in all the wrong spots. It was probably just a badly sewn crotch cutting circulation off to his most vital member. A denim condom of sorts.
“My cherry shake awaits.” He dragged Alix up, and literally dragged was the right verb, to the window so they could order. He really was starving. Part of him wanted to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. The other part of him actually relished the prospect of getting to kiss her.
She was beautiful. Taboo. Off limits. He liked off limits. He liked taboo. He enjoyed beautiful. Just not when it came to her. Not normally. He’d thought about her for two damn days and three even longer nights. It was time to get that shit over and done with so they could both put whatever stupid feud they had going on in the past, where it belonged.
He couldn’t take one more question from his mom about where Alix was or if she was mad at them. His mom was a sweetheart. She’d had enough to worry about in the past two years as it was. He didn’t want her to think it was because of something she did that Alix never came around.
“Hey, Ross…” the girl at the counter flashed him a knowing smile that made Alix dig her nails into his palm. “What can I get for you?” Her voice was pure syrup.
His eyes swept to her name tag. Brittany. Fuck. He couldn’t remember ever goin
g out with someone named Brittany. Okay, going out was the wrong term. He couldn’t remember doing anything with her. Maybe he’d just been there so many times that she knew his name and liked to flirt. Flirting wasn’t a crime.
Alix’s nails dug into his palm again as she flexed her hand. Apparently flirting was a crime in her books.
“A cherry shake, double cheeseburger, and a chocolate vanilla soft serve swirl with a butterscotch shell.”
Brittany twirled a stand of her blond hair. Weren’t people who worked in kitchens supposed to tie that shit up to avoid shedding it in everyone’s food? She flashed him her row of pearly whites. She was pretty, in that annoying, perky, cheerleader sort of way. She batted her eyelashes and barely moved to write the order down on the pad of slips in front of her.
She kept staring at him instead, which made Alix shuffle her feet anxiously. Finally, she tore her hand away, dug in her purse, produced a twenty, and slapped it down on the open windowsill. Brittany practically bared her teeth.
“That should be about right?” Alix asked in an even sweeter tone. The kind of sweetness that was mixed with honey and arsenic.
“Yeah.” Brittany glared back. She scribbled something on the slip. “Let me get your change.”
“That’s alright. Keep it for your tip.” The last word spat out like venom and Brittany wasn’t happy at all about the six or seven odd dollars. She disappeared and Ross turned to stare at Alix.
“Jesus,” she seethed, which was new, because she didn’t normally curse in any sort of way. “Is that how it is everywhere you go? Honestly, I almost feel sorry for you.”
The fact that she assumed the best was flattering, really. That Brittany was flirting with him because she wanted to sleep with him, not because she already had.
Ross swallowed down the strange urge to apologize. Instead, he grabbed Alix around her tiny waist, his hands grazing her bare skin where the tank ended. She was hot. Her skin was like fire and it did all sorts of weird things to him. He felt like he’d just downed a glass of the horrible witch’s brew that Chance used to mix up behind his parent’s bar when they weren’t home. A little of this, a little of that, so they wouldn’t notice anything missing. It burned like fire and tasted worse than horse piss- not that he’d ever tasted horse piss- but it was the violent churning in his stomach and the light headedness afterwards that he hated most.
He felt like that. Like his head was going to float off his body. His breathing shallowed out and his stomach sloshed around. He felt like there was bubbles in his blood and he might not live long enough to actually eat that burger or enjoy the shake. His cock had other ideas about dying. The bastard was living life to the fullest and he had to angle himself away from Alix to prevent touching her with it.
Second base didn’t involve cock. He could kiss her. He could live with himself after. Touching her with his dick, even through clothes, was another matter entirely. No matter what Chance said, if the guy found out that he’d done anything inappropriate with his sister, it would be game over for a lifelong friendship. He’d probably gouge out his eyes, cut off his balls, and do a swap, call it even and offer him a beer.
“Here’s your shake.” Brittany was back, her sugary voice dripping all over their order.
Ross released Alix, who stepped back looking a little dazed. He grabbed up the burger, his shake, and the giant ice cream cone and dashed away from the window as fast as he could. Another couple ambled up behind them, so he was free to make his escape.
Alix’s eyes were still a little glazed over when he handed her the heaping ice cream cone. He inspected it first, just to make sure Brittany hadn’t thrown any shade, pubes, or spit on it. Nope. It looked good to go.
A shiver went through Alix when their knuckles grazed. He felt it echoed right beneath his belly button. He’d been touching women’s hands for a lot of years now and never felt lightheaded. He’d never felt shivery either. He had a raging hard on, but that was normal. Unnerving because of who he was with, but it wasn’t a big surprise. His dick didn’t care that this was Alix Bear and that he’d known her since the day she literally came home from the hospital. His dick noticed that she was warm, curvy, had tight little breasts and an even tighter ass that her jeans cupped just right, never ending legs and gorgeous lips that could be used for more than just eating that ice cream.
Her little pink tongue came out and danced around the butterscotch shell on the soft serve and god. Damn. It. He had to angle away again, pointing out a picnic table just to distract her before his dick actually tore its way out of his jeans.
“You want to sit over there?” The tables were lumped together on a grassy patch by the parking lot. Seagulls cawed and squawked overhead while children ran around, chasing each other and parents tried to tell them to come sit down and eat their fries. A hum of conversation littered the area and someone’s dog barked.
“I’d rather just go for a walk,” Alix said. She licked at her ice cream again while he tried to pretend he didn’t notice her doing it. “The wasps are really bad at the tables.” She licked at her cone again before her glowing eyes swept back to his face. “You ordered for me.”
Something in her voice hit him like a kick right to the gut. “Yeah. Of course. You get the same thing every single time. Just like I do.”
“What’s Chance’s order?”
He blinked at her. “What?”
“What’s Chance’s order? He gets the same thing almost every single time too.”
He blinked again. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He tried to make his brain work to remember what Chance always ordered. He tried to visualize walking up the counter with him, but the only thing he could actually remember was how Chance usually hit on the girls working at the place, just to get free shit. One grin was usually all it took, and his meal was on the house.
Maybe he was on the house later too. Or maybe that was the Brittany’s of the place. Either way…
“You don’t know, do you? One scoop of pistachio, one of bubble gum, dipped in a chocolate shell. Or two double burgers and a coke. Every. Single. Time.”
“How should I know? I’m a dude. Dude’s don’t remember anything,” he shot back. He took a sip of his cherry shake and really hoped there weren’t pubes stuck in there. Maybe Brittany thought the shake was Alix’s. He didn’t taste anything weird. In fact, it tasted pretty damn good. As good as it did every single time, which was why he always got it.
The place was a favorite of his parents. They’d brought him there since he as a kid and it rubbed off on Alix and Chance, even though he couldn’t recall a single time Alix’s parents ever came with them.
Alix snorted. She started walking, licking at her ice cream the entire time. He railed after like a lost puppy. There was an alley between two other businesses down the block, an accounting firm that looked desolate, but then again, it was well after the work day was over, and a pizza place that didn’t look like it had a single customer. Alix ducked into the space between them and leaned up against the brick wall that belonged to the accounting office.
She propped her shoulders up against the brick, set her red canvas shoe back too, and stood on one leg like a flamingo, licking away at her ice cream.
Ross unwrapped his burger and devoured it without tasting it. He finished his cherry shake off in record time, while Alix watched him with her unwavering, completely unnerving gaze. It was the first time he’d really noticed her looking at him. Or maybe the first time she was so direct. The rest of the time he’d always been too distracted. Or she’d probably looked away.
That ice cream was going down painfully slow. There was a dumpster thirty feet away- terribly romantic- and he went and threw his trash in the giant bin. After he stalked back, he stood right in front of Alix while her tongue snaked out, licking and savoring that ice cream. She’d always been the world’s slowest eater, but this was torture on a new, painfully inhumane level.
That pink tongue.
That.
Pink.
Tongue.
He wanted it licking and savoring something else. His cock was pretty much ready to leap out of his jeans and fist bump him for the idea. He felt like the pervert of the century.
Ross did the only thing he could think to do to cut that shit off at the pass. He reached out and smacked the bottom of the ice cream cone so that the ice cream drove up, right into her face.
“What?!” Alix gasped as chocolate and vanilla swirl splattered all over her nose, her lips, her cheeks, and her chin. “What the heck did you do that for?”
Her eyes burned with rage and if he thought he’d be better off when she was angry, he was mistaken. She looked absolutely edible, her eyes flashing and her cheeks a bright scarlet, her lips hanging open.
“I don’t have any napkins! Ross!” Alix wailed. She cocked her arm back and threw the rest of her ice cream at him. It hit him square in the chest with a wet splat before it bounced away to the crumbling concrete below.
Her chest puffed in and out with her rapid, angry breaths.
Her eyes blazed with rage.
She looked like a goddess ready to go to battle on his ass.
She opened her perfectly pink, full lips to no doubt give him a piece of her mind.
He didn’t give her a chance. He obliterated the distance between them in a single step. He pinned her shoulders back against the wall with one hand while his other splayed around her hip and waist. Their mouths collided like two shooting stars smashing up in the night sky- with a bright and ferocious bang that rocked the ground beneath him.
He was more than a little shocked. He’d kissed plenty of women. Plenty. It never hurt. It never made his chest ache like she’d been hiding a secret dagger up her sleeve and had plunged it between his ribs. The heat that trickled into the pit of his stomach, the synapses in his brain exploding, his chest imploding because his lungs were on fire, his slamming heart and hammering pulse- he didn’t understand any of it.
So, he deepened the kiss, doing what he was pretty much fucking famous for, at least according to Alix. She wanted to see what the fuss was about- her words, not his- he’d show her.