More Than Each Other (More Than Best Friends Book 2)

by Sally Henson

  Lane’s hand catches my waist, steadying me, and draws us back together. “Too much partying last night?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” I tease, backing away because he smells as delicious as he looks. Such a dangerous combination.

  I really want to kiss him, but I shouldn’t. I have a feeling it could easily turn into a kiss-a-thon. I need a distraction. So, I drag my backpack into my room.

  “Hey, what happened to all your posters and pictures?” Lane asks. “It looks like my dorm room before I moved in.”

  “I took them down.”

  He shakes his head, waving his hand where a poster from Tobi’s Florida trip once was. “I can see that. Why?”

  I shrug. This isn’t something I want to talk about right now. Maybe making out was a better option.

  What are you thinking, Regan? A kiss-a-thon is always a better option.

  I take off my coat and sit on the edge of my bed before I gesture to his attire that make his flames status easily move beyond red hot. “The clothes?”

  Lane’s face brightens as he glances down at his tie, smoothing it against his chest with his fingers. He clears his throat, kneels down in front of me, and takes my hands in his. “Regan, sunshine-birthday-girl, Stone, will you go to dinner with me tonight?”

  I giggle at his silliness and busy my fingers straightening his collar and fixing his tie. “I’d love to go to dinner with you, Dr. Love. Even if it’s not my birthday anymore.”

  I meet his gaze before his eyes dart all over my face, as if he forgot what I looked like, and then he wraps me up in a tight hug, lifting me off my bed.

  “It’s our private little birthday party,” he says, using his low, beckoning voice that always draws me closer to him. “Wear that dress your mom made. You can be as fancy as me.”

  I take in a few deep breaths of the cologne emanating from his flesh. Not a good idea, because my lips press to the skin right below his ear. It's like they have a mind of their own, moving, forging a trail to an unknown destination. They linger on his pulse.

  The beat of his heart becomes more rapid—pounds like the base of a dance song under my lips. He holds me closer. The thickness of unspoken words fills my room. Words are not necessary when they hang like a mist, so tangible it tastes like love.

  Suddenly, he drops me on the bed. His mouth tugs up on one side as he hovers over me.

  The daily workouts Lane’s been doing has chiseled him into a work of art. I prop myself up on my elbows, studying his broad shoulders, strong in his slim-fitted shirt, with my eyes.

  Is it possible for anyone to be more attractive?

  I grip his tie, bringing his lips to mine. He kisses me back, chuckling in my mouth before prying my fingers from his tie.

  “Get dressed. We have reservations.” He backs out of my room and walks away.

  My pulse is thrums through my body, leaving me breathless. “Lane?” I get up and slip around the dress hanging in the doorway. “Lane?”

  He peeks around the corner from the living room. His eyebrows rise as he answers with a coy voice, “Yes, Regan?”

  “I haven’t seen or talked to my parents all day.” Which is the way I’d like to keep it, but, “I don’t know if I can go out.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows. “You’re all mine tonight. I’ve already arranged things with your folks.” He sounds like a song with a cute smirk for an ending.

  If he’s not careful, I’ll march down this hallway and kiss that smirk right off of his face. I roll my eyes instead. “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way.” He twirls his wrist, urging me to hurry. “Get ready or we’ll be late.” He turns back to the living room.

  I grab the dress and dart to the bathroom to ready myself as fast as I can.

  When I step into the living room, Lane's lounging on the sofa, flipping through the channels.

  His eyes round as he takes me in.

  I twirl around for a 360 view.

  “Wow, you look—beautiful.” A smile spreads across his lips.

  I curtsey, and say, “Thank you.”

  He chuckles. “Are you going to call me Your Highness?”

  “No,” I deadpan. “I'll get my coat.” I turn back to my room to gather my coat and purse while he chuckles at my response.

  When I come back, Lane opens the door for me, planting a chaste peck on my cheek as we walk outside and leave for our destination.

  We've been driving about ten minutes when I ask where we're going. He better not tell me it's a surprise.

  “Firefly.”

  “Really?” That's Lane's favorite restaurant. I've never been there, and I'm anxious to see why he likes it so much.

  “Really.” Our clasped hands rest on the console between us. “Mom's car is nice, but I wish I'd driven my truck.”

  “Why?”

  “It feels like you're on the other side of the universe over there. Too much space between us.”

  That’s really sweet, and it makes me giggle like a little girl.

  61

  Regan

  All night has been one giant “I’m so lucky to have Lane in my life” sigh.

  I unbuckle, lean over the console, and kiss Lane’s cheek while he drives. “Everything about Firefly was amazing. The food, the atmosphere…a candlelight table for two by the fireplace? You, Dr. Love,”—giggles bubble out of me like a silly, love-sick girl. Tonight, has been so special— “you can be surprising.” I move back to my seat, securing the seatbelt and myself where we belong.

  “Yeah? Surprising how?” Lane’s eyes widen as big as the sky above us.

  The way the dash lights reflect off them, I swear I see stars—beautiful, truth serum infused, lights in the darkness.

  He wants the thoughts I hide, the intimate ones that push my heart to beat out of control. “Are you going to make me tell you?”

  “What, you too embarrassed to tell your best friend?” he teases.

  “My best friend? No,” I chuckle and nervously smooth the dress across my lap.

  The way my insides jitter when he says or does things, more than best friends stuff is off the charts uncomfortable. Sharing how he makes me feel…yeah, that’s embarrassing.

  I take a deep breath and trust him with my heart. “Dancing all by ourselves out on the deck? Surprising. And I didn’t even care it was cold or that people probably thought we were crazy.” He held me so close, cold wasn’t an issue. “The whole night’s been surprising from the very beginning.”

  Lane reaches over and takes my hand back in his, where it’s been practically all night.

  “Sometimes, Lane, I still can’t believe we’re…this. Like, the way you look at me, the things you say…” It wasn’t that long ago I thought we were finished, not even friends, and it has me feeling like we’re starting all over. “And the way you kiss me is so…not like a best friend.”

  Lane presses my palm against his cheek. “We’re both, Regan, best friends and so much more.” He holds my gaze for several racing beats of my pulse before turning his attention back to the road.

  I bring our hands to rest on the console and watch him as he drives. The hum of excitement engulfing us is something I want more of. Being grounded, hiding out in my room, keeping things inside…not the best decisions I’ve made. The darkness snuck in like a thief and took over. I didn’t notice I’d stopped caring about my grades, didn’t understand why I was tired all the time. I felt so hopeless and alone. I gave up on Lane before he even knew what was going on. That stuff never happens to me, or so I thought.

  Good thing Lane didn’t give up on us.

  The car slows, and I glance out the windshield as Lane turns. We’re closing in on our homes in the countryside already.

  The time on the dash says 7:05. This night cannot be ending already. “What time do I have to be back?”

  “Midnight. You know it’s pathetic that I talk to your parents more than you do?” he says, half teasing.

  I shrug, not wan
ting to talk about it. Yes, Dad let me see Lane on the weekend when I was grounded, but he still hasn’t changed his mind about marine science. Just because I’ve given it up doesn’t mean that I won’t forget he’s taken it away from me.

  Lane takes the hint and doesn’t push me, changing the subject. “I have a few ideas for us.”

  “Like what?” If his ideas are as amazing as tonight has been so far, yes please.

  “We could swing by the Homecoming dance and make an appearance.”

  “No,” I blurt out. Our friends are there, but a crowd of people who gossiped about me for months? I have to see them at school every day. No way do I want to go hang around them when I have a choice.

  Lane’s shoulders relax. “I didn't want to go either. It's weird after I’ve graduated to go back to something like that.”

  Sweet, but not an amazing idea. “What else?” I ask.

  “We could go to my house and watch movies with my sisters.”

  His family’s fun to hang out with. “Or?” Give me an amazing idea—fingers crossed…

  He drops his voice and practically sings, “You, me, the stars.”

  As dreamy as he makes it sound, “Star gazing sounds good,”—I motion to my dress— “but I’ll freeze to death in this thing.”

  He winks, jabbing his thumb toward the back of the car. “I got you covered.”

  I glance into the darkness behind our seats, raising my brows wondering what he has back there.

  “Trust me.” The grin on his face widens with mischief, and he turns down the rock path across the pond from the cliffs.

  Lane parks and presses a button on the dash. The fabric of the roof retracts, revealing the night sky.

  “I forgot your mom’s car had a moon roof,” I say.

  Lane unbuckles and says, “I’ll be right back.”

  None of the interior lights come on when he gets out, giving me a clear view of the night sky through the windshield.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, slipping off my seatbelt while he’s at the back of the car with the hatch open.

  “No peeking. You’ll find out soon enough.” He closes the hatch, opens the back door, rummaging around.

  I start to look back, but he catches me. “Ah! Keep those eyes straight ahead.”

  I giggle and do what he wants.

  When he finally climbs back in the car, all the warmth from the heater has escaped. I shiver, wishing I’d kept my coat over my lap instead of tossing it in the back seat.

  “You let all the warm air out,” I grumble, turning to reach for my coat.

  “Whoa,” he stops me. “Hold on.” Lane reaches into the back seat and comes up with an electric blanket, making a show to flip open the outlet on the console and connect the power.

  “Nice.” I pull the edge up to my shoulders. Heat can’t come soon enough for me.

  “I have a surprise, so close your eyes.” Lane turns up the music a little, and fumbles with something in the backseat again.

  “You're crazy.” I laugh, shaking my head. This night’s already been special—over the top. For Lane to have put so much effort into wanting me to be happy, to actually care about me, has me flying.

  Lane

  Her laughter fills the car, taking me on a ride I love so much. My stomach dips and turns and tightens until her giggles trail off.

  I give her the look and wait until she closes her eyes to light the candles. The smell of sugar and burning wax fill the air as I lift the box filled with seventeen cupcakes over the seat.

  “Happy Birthday to you,” I begin to sing.

  Regan’s eyes pop open the same time her mouth does. She gasps, “Lane. You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I know you already had a party and stuff last night, but I wanted to do something for just the two of us. Something special.”

  She is something special. And I can’t believe I almost screwed that up.

  The golden flecks in Regan’s eyes sparkle like tiny suns from the flames as I finish the song.

  I set the box on the console between us and tell her, “Make a wish.”

  Her lips rub together as she stares at her cupcakes. “Lane.” Her glistening eyes meet mine again. “You already made my wish come true.”

  I reach over and push her hair away from her face. She has me ready to tackle the world, and I dare to say, “Maybe I can do it again.”

  Dang. That look, like I’m her everything, sucks the breath out of me, stops my heart, has me willing to do anything to keep it there.

  Her eyes dance a few seconds as a new wish forms. “I might be able to think of another one.” She drops her gaze down to the candles, closes her eyes for a couple of beats, and then blows them out.

  I present a cupcake to her. “For you, birthday girl.”

  She licks her lips, peels the wrapper, and bites into the mint-chocolate goodness. “It's kind of gross blowing out candles on the cake. You know spit sprays all over the frosting. And then everyone eats it.”

  I scrunch my nose and peel off my paper. “I’m never eating another piece of birthday cake again.” But then I take a bite.

  She laughs. “You're eating it now.”

  I take another bite. “Mmm. This is different. I don't mind swapping spit with you.”

  She curls her lip in disgust. “It doesn't sound very appealing when you put it that way.”

  “Yeah? What if I put it this way?” I lean in and kiss her.

  She shrugs, looking all kinds of bored.

  “What?”

  “It is my birthday, I expected something, oh,”—she tilts her head as if she’s weighing her options— “I don't know, a little better than that.” She dabs my nose with the icing from her cupcake.

  My jaw drops as I stare at my girl flirting. I love it. “You did not just do that.” The beat of my heart ticks up a notch.

  “Um, I think I just did.” She tries to hide her grin by biting her lip.

  I put my cupcake back in the box and set it behind our seats. “How many swats do you get this year?”

  “Hm-mm.” She shakes her head, moving as close to the door as possible. “No, way. I'm too old for that.”

  “We'll see about that.” I sweep the back of my hand down my nose, removing the icing and wiping it on a spare paper towel.

  She giggles. If we were outside, I’d sling her over my shoulder and twirl her around until she’s dizzy. This confined box keeps her from going anywhere, though. I wiggle my fingers in warning before I attack her most ticklish spot.

  “Stop! Stop!” she cries, laughing between gasps of air.

  I pause, hovering over her. “On two conditions.”

  Her head falls back on the headrest. “Not the conditions again.”

  I threaten to tickle her again.

  “Okay, okay. What conditions?”

  “One.” I lean as close as I can. This stupid console is keeping us apart. I scoop one arm around her waist and heft her closer. “Don’t doubt what we have. It’s only you. I think it’s always only been you.”

  She looks away, brushing a finger under her lashes.

  “Two.” I cup her face with my other hand, meeting her lips once with my own. “Promise to call or text me anytime you're happy, or sad, or whatever the reason. Just do it.” I quickly reach under my seat for her gift and lift it between us. “Happy Birthday.”

  Regan’s mouth drops open for the zillionth time tonight. “Lane! Oh, my gosh, dinner was enough. It was sweet and romantic and…” She crashes into me, wrangling her arms around my neck, and then whispers against my lips, “Amazing.”

  “Behave,” I tease, though I’m actually talking to myself. My body screams to stay connected to her, to get even closer, but I manage to put some space between us. “Open it.”

  Chewing on her bottom lip, she fumbles with the bow. Did she get the hint I dropped? Maybe. She seems to slow down and it’s causing my muscles to shake.

  One side of her mouth has the slightest curve. She’s playing wit
h me.

  “Come on, come on, open it,” I beg.

  “I think you're more excited than I am.” She lifts the box open and gasps. “Lane! This is too much.”

  My chest swells until it feels like it’s going to explode. “Too late. Can’t take it back.” I lean over, showing her how it works. “Turn it on. I already have my number programed in, and the gang's.” She knows how to use mine, but I’m just as excited as she is. “Go here, contacts. See, I made sure I was first.”

  “Alpha-Flames-Cary?” She cracks up. “That is so dumb.”

  “What? I wanted to be number one in your little black book.”

  She shakes her head, still laughing. “Where did you get this picture?”

  My face on top of a roid-jacked bodybuilder’s. It’s classic. I cough, doing my best to hide my laughter and be serious. “What do you mean? I took a selfie after a workout.”

  She laughs a giant, deep-from-your-gut laugh at the cut and paste job I did on the photo. “You look ridiculous. I like your body so much better than this.”

  “You like my body?” I tease.

  She shrugs, acting like she didn’t really say it, but the quiet and her refusal to look at me proves she does. “Yeah,” she admits, jetting her eyes everywhere but at me.

  If she keeps this up, I’m pretty sure I’ll turn into Captain America before the night is over.

  “You can change it, if you want.” I reach for my phone and tap on the contacts. “You’re number one on my list too.”

  I flip the phone so she can see it.

  “Amore?” She giggles, but then her voice drops. “Serious?” Her smile falls.

  That tiny action nearly knocks the wind out of me. “What? You don’t like it? It means affection. Love.” She doesn’t want me to call her love?

  She drops her phone in her lap, wrapping her arms around my neck so fast I almost don’t know what hits me.