“Your place or mine?”
She looks devilishly over her shoulder and then back at me. “Why wait? There’s a perfectly good bathroom back there in the corner.”
I try not to noticeably cringe. God only knows how many people have fucked in that tiny bathroom, but what the hell? Beats having this chick know where I live.
We go back to the dingy bar bathroom, locking the door behind us, and before I can do anything, the chick is on me, tearing at my shirt, hoovering my neck, biting my bottom lip, tugging on it like a fucking chew toy.
Just to take a break from her pawing hands and aggressive kissing, I pick her up, resting her ass on the sink that probably was once white but has definitely yellowed with age over the years.
This is supposed to feel good, jackass. Get it together.
Her hands slide under my shirt, her long nails scraping against my skin as her mouth dives to my neck, sucking and biting as I try to get my dick to get his shit together too.
Fuck!
This isn’t working. I close my eyes and see nothing but blue eyes full of betrayal. I think back to our first date, when I thought we’d made a real connection, when I kissed her forehead. But then after I left, she fucked Tate.
“You have a condom, handsome?” The chick purrs into my ear before nibbling it.
I nod absently, but my dick isn’t even fucking trying. It’s useless in this moment, and there’s really no need for a fucking condom. Her question brings me back to sex with Evie, her not wanting to use a condom.
Just wanting me.
Fuck! I stare into the mirror, looking into the reflection but not recognizing anyone I see.
I was a fucking idiot. And you better believe I got tested when everything blew up. I mean, who knows what’s true and what’s not. She said she’d never let anyone fuck her bare before, but she was also fucking Tate.
The girl takes a moment to stop slobbering all over me for a moment and looks into my eyes, concern spread across her face. “You okay?”
You can push through this. It’s been way too fucking long since you’ve been laid.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I press my lips to hers, trying to force myself to feel anything but pain and loathing for the opposite sex.
And then, something really fucking weird happens.
I see Morgan. My best friend. Beautiful, kind, and strong but vulnerable, standing there, listening to me bitch about my life, her face nearing my own, her lips so fucking appealing.
I remember the way her body felt in my arms, pressed against me, her soft lips opening for mine as I explored her mouth.
The girl’s hands move to my ass, pulling me into her, and I feel my dick hardening as it presses between her open legs, but it’s not her I’m thinking about with my eyes shut tight.
My eyes fly open, and I look into the mirror in front of me.
Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong with me?
I pull out of her grasp and see her horrified expression.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
I don’t offer any further explanation as I dart out the door, running out of the bar and out to the street, trying to catch my breath.
Yeah, I’m definitely fucking losing it.
I climb out of the Uber and walk toward my house. I stop when I see Morgan sitting on the steps in front.
She’s wearing a big grin along with jean shorts and a cropped, black Pearson Racing tee. I could do without seeing that fucker’s last name, but Morgan is a welcome surprise.
I approach her as she stands holding up a bottle of whiskey and two plastic cups. “Hey, Ty. Where the hell have you been?”
I deflect the question quickly. “What are you doing here?”
She smiles that same smile I’ve loved for years. “I miss you. I just got back in town and thought, in the spirit of going back to normal, we could have one of our talks outside, looking up at the stars and drinking our favorite.”
That sounds incredibly good right now.
Her smile only grows as she nibbles on her bottom lip. “I know it’s late, but since you’re just now getting home, I’m gonna say no harm done.”
I laugh. “Yeah. I’m not ready for bed yet.”
Her eyes slide downward, and she nods to my neck. “Attacked on your way home?”
Fuck. I forgot about the bar.
“Something like that.” I start toward the back gate. “Come on.”
I hear her following me as I open the gate, and we walk up the steps to sit in the matching lawn chairs. She settles into the chair, placing the bottle and cups on the table between us and pulling her legs up to her chest.
I’m used to her sitting this way, but it’s hard to miss the jean shorts sliding up and exposing her tanned, toned thighs, making me think about too many things I shouldn’t.
I force myself to look away, look up at the sky, look anywhere but at Morgan.
It’s something I’ve had to do for years, since she started looking more and more like a woman, since she started wearing clothes that made it hard to ignore. God, I should have just fucked that chick at the bar.
I’m turning into a pathetic, horny motherfucker.
“So, how was your trip?”
She groans as her gaze mimics mine, looking up at the sky. “I’m now working for two assholes who cannot get along.”
I hate Tate. I don’t want to talk about Tate, but damn it, I want her to be able to talk about anything with me. “So, you took Chase up on his offer?”
“I did. And I told both of those assholes they have to get along.” Her voice is light with a hint of laughter encompassing her words. “First race, they nearly ran each other off the track and then almost came to blows at the press conference afterward.”
“I don’t know how you put up with them.”
She laughs, turning in her seat to open the whiskey bottle. “Alcohol helps.” She pours the honey colored liquor into both cups. “So does the money.”
I take the cup from her as she hands me one. “Yeah. I guess that helps.”
“So, you had some fun tonight, huh?” She’s looking at my neck again. I don’t say anything, just take a drink of whiskey, letting the smooth liquid slide down my throat. She tilts her head with a sly smile. “Suddenly shy, Ty?”
I look up at the dark sky again. “I just don’t think we should talk about this.” Not the safest of subjects.
“Oh, come on. We’ve always talked about this kind of stuff before.”
We have. Not much was off-limits with Morgan before. But now? It seems wrong. I look into her pretty eyes. “Don’t you think things have changed?”
“That’s the point though, Ty.” Her chin is tipped up in defiance, her gaze stubborn and strong. “I don’t want it to be different.”
“Morgan . . .”
Her pretty eyes roll. “Ty, things don’t have to be different, and we’ve always talked about this shit. I mean, I know about that chick who went down on you in the private room at the shop.” I cringe slightly as she continues. “You know about the guy who literally only wanted to fuck my feet.”
Now I full-on cringe but can’t fight the laugh. “Yeah, some things I wish I didn’t know.”
She shrugs. “So, what happened with the vampire? You don’t seem too happy for a guy who just got laid.”
Morgan seems cool, like nothing weird has happened between us, like I didn’t kiss her like a fucking idiot, like she didn’t claim to be in love with me. But my brain is screaming it’s a fucking trap whether she means for it to be one or not. “I didn’t get laid.”
Her right eyebrow lifts in a question. “You just let her hoover your neck?” Her finger brushes over a tender spot. “And bite it?”
Fuck. She left a bite mark? I honestly want things to go back to normal with Morgan. “Yeah. I uh, . . .” I grasp the back of my neck with my free hand, “I could have. She was definitely into it, but I couldn’t
do it.”
Her eyes drop down to my lap. “Oh . . .”
“What? No. I could have.” She pushes out her bottom lip and shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips as she laughs.
“Sure, Ty.”
“Fuck you.” I laugh with her, and it feels good. “It wasn’t a dick problem. It was my mind. I just . . .”
She sets down her drink and listens intently. “You what?”
“I couldn’t stop picturing Evie.” She shrinks back in her chair.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. And all the fucking betrayal, all the bullshit.”
She picks her drink back up and takes a sip. “Boner killer.”
I nod, taking a drink. I don’t mention the fact that my dick started to get hard when her face inexplicably popped into my head. “Yeah. So, I came home.”
She takes a much bigger drink, finishing it off and then refilling her cup. “So, maybe you should stay celibate for a bit longer.”
That idea is almost horrifying to me. I groan and finish off my own drink. “I’m afraid at this point my dick is going to leave me and go find someone who will fucking use it.”
She laughs, her mouth opening wide with boisterous laughter before she takes another drink. “How long has it been, Ty?” Her eyes meet mine. “Was Evie the last one?”
“No. There was one chick a couple of months ago, but I was fucking blackout drunk. I don’t even know if I finished.”
“Jesus, Ty. Tell me you got tested after that shit and there isn’t a little Ty baby coming.” She shrugs. “Although, I’m sure it would be cute.”
“Of course, I got tested and besides there was a used condom and wrapper.”
“Well.” She settles back into her chair, letting her feet touch the wooden deck as she looks up at the sky. “I definitely feel your pain. It’s been way too long since I’ve had sex.”
Fuck. Me. My cock is awake now.
I shift in my chair and clear my throat as I look up the sky with her. “Morgan, I can’t hear shit like that.”
“Why not?” She finishes her second drink and places the cup on the table, turning to look at me. “You can’t see me as a woman who likes sex, who wants to get laid?”
Fuck no. I turn to look at her, the alcohol blurring lines that can’t be crossed. “I know you do. Well, I assume, but I can’t know that.”
“Well, I’m telling you, I do.”
I sit up a little straighter, trying to gain composure, sober up.
Because right now, all I can do is stare at her lips, lips I know are really fucking plump and soft, too kissable.
“I can’t know that.”
I promised Jay I’d never make the same mistake again, that I won’t hurt Morgan. And I won’t.
I can’t see her as a woman who enjoys sex. I can’t hear about her wanting to get fucking laid. Because in my stupid, drunk male brain, I want to be the one who helps her out with that.
Fuck! Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.
I just wanted to go back to normal. I missed my friend, and I had a shitty trip. I mean, it started out okay, but seriously, I thought Tate and Chase were going to kill each other.
How I’m going to navigate being an assistant to both of them, I have no idea.
So I was stressed, and all I could think about was leaning on Ty.
And then I saw him, so fucking sexy, tall, broad, muscular with that incredibly handsome almost too beautiful face. And I saw how his clothes were wrinkled, like someone had been pawing at his shirt. And I saw red, blotchy patches on his neck.
I knew some other chick had been all over him, and all I felt was jealousy.
How do you go back to normal after all that’s happened? I have no clue. I just want him to see me as a woman and to stop thinking of me as a little girl. If we’re going to be friends, I at least need that noted.
“Well, you know it now, Ty. I like sex. In fact,” I look him dead in the eye, refusing to let him look away, “I love it. I love how I can just let go and get lost with another person inside me.”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he listens to my words and swallows. “Morgan.”
He looks like he’s physically in pain. “I’m a grown-ass woman, Ty. Stop looking at me like a little girl.”
“I know you’re a woman. Fuck!”
“Then don’t tell me I can’t talk about sex with you. Don’t tell me I can’t tell you I want to get laid. I mean, at this rate, I’m probably going to fuck Chase Castle, knowing me.”
I see a flash of anger pass over his face as his eyebrows draw together. “Why would you say that?”
I shrug, leaning back in my chair and looking away from him. “Why wouldn’t I? He’s fucking hot, and he actually notices me.”
“There are plenty of guys who notice you, Morgan.” He leans back in his own chair, reciting the same things he’s told me for years. “You don’t have to fuck douchebags.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s all I attract.”
“You attract everyone.”
The alcohol is going to my head and shame is leaving as I slide my hand over his and up his arm. “Oh yeah? You know . . . since we are both adults, . . . both attractive and single . . .”
He jerks his arm away and sits up straight. “Don’t.”
Do not let your feelings get hurt. Stay strong. “Don’t what?” Instead of acting defensive, I go the flirty route. “I’m just saying. We could help each other out.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Why not?” I turn my body to face him, lift one leg, bending it at the knee. “You aren’t my brother, no relation whatsoever. And like I said, we’re single, consenting adults. You’re decent looking enough.”
That brings a small laugh from him, but he shakes his head, leaning forward, letting his elbows rest on his thighs. “Morgan, I’ll never use you again.”
I rest a hand on his thigh. “We’d be using each other. You’d be saving me from fucking the wrong guy.”
He leans his head down, grabbing his perfectly-styled hair with his fingers and gripping it tightly before dropping his hands and looking up at me. “No, you don’t get it. I’m the wrong guy. Me. You deserve so much better.”
My heart aches in my chest. With every beat, I feel a stab of disappointment and pain, but again, I try my best to push it away, to act like a flirty tart, tossing in a giggle for good measure. “Hey now, I wasn’t proposing marriage. I just wanted your dick.”
His beautiful hazel eyes meet mine, and I want to sob with the heartache I feel, seeing my friend so lost and broken. “That’s literally all I have to offer. I tried the relationship thing, and I failed horribly.”
“That really wasn’t your fault. She was in love with Tate. You couldn’t have known.”
“You did.”
Shit. “I saw both sides.”
I knew Tate was in love with her. Ty didn’t have that information for a long time. “I’m not cut out for relationships, Morgan. It was inevitable.”
I shake my head. “No, you’re wrong. It was one relationship.”
“One. I’ve tried one time my entire life to be in an actual relationship, and I fucking failed miserably. I nearly destroyed everything I had before it. I’m done with that shit, with commitment and love.”
I’ve had too much to drink because I can feel tears well in my eyes. “You’re so much more than a pretty face and a dick to ride.”
“I’m not, not for women anyway. I’m a good friend.” He flashes that devastating smile in my direction. “And a kickass tattoo artist. And that’s good enough for me.”
“Don’t you ever want more?”
“Nope.” I can tell he’s had too much to drink too. We should end this conversation. I should go home and go to bed.
“Fine then. You’re going to fuck nameless, meaningless women. Why not just use me? We can help each other out.”
He doesn’t say anything and instead stands from his chair, walking over to the railing of the deck, lo
oking out over his backyard.
Is he considering it?
I stand and walk to him, my legs feeling heavy with each step, feeling the whiskey.
“Ty?”
I place a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to look at me. “Morgan, don’t offer that to me.”
“Why? Tempted?”
I’m trying to keep it light, but his eyes and the way they’re looking at me doesn’t allow anything lighthearted. They dig deep into my soul. “Yes.”
Holy. Shit. He wants me too.
My hand slides down his taut bicep, pulled with a tension I’m certain his entire body matches. “So then, why fight it?”
“I just told you I’m not interested in a relationship.”
“And I told you I’m not looking for that either.”
His hand rises to my cheek, resting there as his thumb grazes my lips. “You are, though. You’ll want things I can’t give you, things you deserve.”
I’m frustrated and turn away, causing his hand to fall away. “You realize I was fucking Tate for a while there and never caught feelings with him.”
“You said you loved me.”
My eyes meet his. “I told you I was confused.”
“And if we fucked, you wouldn’t get confused again?”
His ability to spout logic when he’s had so much to drink is both impressive and annoying. “No. I’m physically attracted to you, but that’s it. I don’t want anything else from you, just thought maybe we could do a ‘friends with benefits’ sort of thing.”
His fingers push through my hair as he grasps my face with both hands, forcing me to look at him. “I’ll never use you again, no matter how sexy I think you are, no matter how fucking badly I want to tear your clothes off and fall apart with you. I won’t do it. Because I do fucking love you, Morgan. Because I love Jay. Because you are worth everything to me.”
I want to cry. I beg my body not to.
Just wait until you’re home.
“It was just an idea.”
His lips kiss the tip of my nose, and part of me wants to die in that moment.
“I can’t.”
He pulls me into a hug, one I despise and cherish all at once as I hug him back tightly, wanting to sob. But I fight it.
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