by J. S. Scott
“But you aren’t drunk anymore,” she said, sounding confused as her palm stroked over my jeans.
“No, I’m not. It seems that alcohol wasn’t responsible for the way I wanted you. I guess I lied when I said you could be any woman last night. I only wanted you.”
Maybe I was being a little too honest, but I wanted Lauren to know that I wasn’t rejecting the offer of being friends with benefits because I didn’t want her. In fact, it was just the opposite. I wanted her too damn much.
I lifted her hand off my crotch and let it fall to her side. “We’re friends. We can’t complicate this,” I told her.
She nodded. “I know. You don’t do complicated.”
“I can’t do complicated. This isn’t a choice,” I said in a raspy voice.
I was mesmerized as I looked into her beautiful blue eyes, her reaction so open and raw.
Mine!
Every damn cell in my body wanted to claim her, and knowing I couldn’t was fucking agony.
To keep myself busy, I plucked off her glasses and cleaned them with my T-shirt before placing them back on her face again.
I couldn’t seem to forget the way her wet heat had surrounded my cock, and the sultry little noises she made when I was fucking her. I’d felt so damn lost inside her, and it had been a fucking incredible state to be in.
Now, I wanted more.
Don’t touch her. If you do, you’ll be screwed.
“Go get ready. We’re missing time on the mountain.” I slapped her ass to set her in gear. If she didn’t get going, I was going to pin her against the nearest solid object and show her how damn good sexual pleasure could really be.
Last night had been sloppy for me. But I knew how to pleasure a female until she was completely sated. I might fuck and run, but I made damn sure any woman in my bed was satisfied before I left.
“Just for the record, I don’t regret it, either. I only regret not finishing what we started,” she confessed in a wistful voice.
It took my body a long time to settle down after she’d exited the kitchen. I hadn’t satisfied her, and that bugged the shit out of me.
Did I really care if I hadn’t come? Actually, I didn’t. It bothered me a hell of a lot more that I left Lauren wanting and crying.
I wanted a damn do-over, but I knew that I wasn’t going to have that chance ever again.
CHAPTER 11
Lauren
I started hyperventilating halfway to my room. Did that just happen? Had Graham just confessed he wanted me and then shown me an impressive amount of proof? I closed the door of my bedroom and leaned forward, closed my eyes and braced my hands on my knees.
Okay, first it was necessary to determine if I was dreaming. To do this I used a method I’d come up with as a child. I imagined a hatch door in my head and opened it. My subconscious could take me to some scary places but I’d never let it beat me. The method was effective with nightmares so it was reasonable to theorize it would be with fantasy fulfilling dreams as well. I didn’t want to buy into the idea of Graham wanting me only to wake and realize I was still on the couch waiting for him to arrive after Jack and Hope left.
I opened my eyes. Still here.
Oh, my God. So, this was real.
I called Jack but he didn’t answer. He obviously didn’t want to hear my opinion. Telling him off wasn’t the purpose of my call, though, so I kept to what was. I told him Graham needed time to work through what had happened before he’d talk to either of them. I was debating what else to add when the voicemail beeped and asked me if I was satisfied with my message. I said yes because, really, what else was there to say?
I straightened then, and on autopilot began to hunt through my suitcase for my ski pants. I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. Last night wasn’t about any woman—he wanted me.
I hugged my pants to my chest and sat on the edge of my bed. I might have been offered my one and only chance with him and ruined it. I made things complicated when they could have been gloriously simple.
How simple would the next day have been even if we’d gone all the way?
I took several calming breaths. Very few things in life or nature were one-time occurrences. Patterns were everywhere.
And they often repeated.
Over-thinking a situation until I couldn’t enjoy it was a prime example.
I mentally ran through Graham’s additions to my list. There wasn’t a single thing on there that I normally would have chosen to do. It wasn’t that I was afraid, per se. I just knew myself. Snow tubing sounded fun in theory, but casualties happened each year—some fatal. The circular nature of the tube provided a rider with only a minimal amount of control. Ice. Speed. Trajectory. Path obstructions. There were too many unknown variables for me to ever enjoy it.
Unknown variables—just like sex with Graham held.
The night before I had held myself back and it had cost me my chance to know an intimate side of him. If I said no to the list I would cheat myself of knowing another piece of him.
Was mitigating risk worth the cost of what it kept me from experiencing? The concept of risk itself was subjective and relied on more than external observable factors. People viewed the same event differently based on personality, experience, or cultural norms—and those variables were not constants—making growth and change possible. Graham applied that philosophy to his football career. He’d designed a plan for me to grow from.
Snow tubing.
Sky diving.
Disney.
At least, that was what I wanted to believe the list was about. He might be trying to regain control of an impossible situation. Or his goal might be to prove to himself that we’re too different for each other.
A memory came back to me from years before. I was on the porch bench swing of my parents’ home—crying. Jack walked by, but Graham stopped and asked me if I was okay. I’d tried to say I was, but had ended up gushing to him that no one at the college I was attending talked to me. He sat next to me on the swing and gave me a playful punch to the arm. “Fuck them, you’ve got me.” I smiled at the memory.
I no longer had to ask why he’d written the list. In my heart I knew. He knew I needed this—we needed this. Suddenly I was less opposed to the idea of skiing one of the more challenging hills. Broken bones heal; I never would if I lost Graham.
Life was full of repeating patterns, and if doing everything on that list gave me another chance with Graham, I was all in. I stood and stepped into my ski pants. I gathered the rest of my gear and headed out of my room to find Graham.
He was dressed and waiting for me near the door. His expression was dark until he saw me and a teasing smile lit his face. “I thought I might have to come in after you.”
I almost said, “I would have liked that.” Instead, I rolled my eyes skyward. He said he couldn’t do complicated and that was understandable considering everything that was going on with Jack and Hope. “You aren’t going to be unbearably smug the whole day, are you?”
He shrugged as if it were a distinct possibility.
I added, “Because then I may have to leave your ass in my dust.”
“Oh, really?” he chuckled, as he held my jacket out for me.
I turned, slid my arms in and glanced at him over my shoulder. “Really,” I said cheekily. Desire flashed in his eyes and it set my heart thudding wildly. Maybe we couldn’t go back to exactly how we were before last night, but maybe, just maybe, if I took it slowly and didn’t over-think it we could have something even better.
His smile turned tender and he turned to open the door for me. When I stepped forward and next to him, he said, “All it takes, Lauren, is believing you can and you will.”
It might have sounded like recycled locker room speech, but his expression was tender. Referencing us and not the challenges, I said, “I’m not afr
aid anymore.”
We exchanged a long look.
He closed the door behind me. “Don’t look at me that way, Peanut. What Jack and Hope did was fucked up, but I can handle it. If I hurt you, it would gut me. I’d never be the same. I look at you and I want to carry you right to my bed and finish what we started. But I need you to be the strong one. Don’t let me become someone I’ll hate.”
In my mind we were back on the swing at my parents’ house and this time he needed me. I could over-think it and make it all about me or I could be the kind of friend he’d always been to me. Wherever this went, the idea of hurting him gutted me as well. So, I gave him what he was asking for. I punched him playfully in the arm and said, “I don’t know about you, but I came here to ski. Can we forget all the other shit and hit the slopes?”
His smile returned. “Please.”
We talked about the weather and the run options on the way to the lifts. He looked torn about which one to choose. I dragged him toward the one with a black diamond, the toughest course. I told myself I wasn’t scared, but I could barely breathe as I took a seat next to him and our feet left the ground.
“I’ve done this hill before. It’s not so bad.”
There was no time to confirm his impression of the hills with statistics. No time to check the conditions or the challenges of the course. I would soon be racing forward with no idea of what lay ahead. Enjoying it would require believing in myself as well as Graham.
We reached the top of the run and slid off the ski lift. The view was breathtaking, unlike anything I’d seen from below. Okay, let’s do this.
Graham was at my side. “Take it slow, Peanut. You don’t have to become a daredevil all in one day. In fact, I’d prefer that you wouldn’t.”
I felt the first rush of adrenaline but this time embraced it. “I’m fine, Graham. I know I can do it. Do you know why?”
He looked at me in bemusement. “No.”
I pushed off instead of answering. I’d tell him one day, but not that day. The pitch brought speed I’d never experienced. I dug in, used what I’d learned from years of instruction to go even faster.
A side glance confirmed he was skiing with me but at a distance, there to pick me up if I fell—just as he’d been doing most of my life. How could I not love him?
I returned my attention to the course and let myself really fly for the first time in my life.
CHAPTER 12
Graham
ELEVEN YEARS AGO…
I felt elated as I arrived at Jack’s house.
I was only a freshman in high school, but I’d made the football team. In fact, I was chosen to be the quarterback.
As long as I don’t get in trouble.
For me, that was a pretty difficult stipulation, but I was determined to keep my nose clean.
Most of the time, I wanted to do well in school. I had a talent for math, a skill I could thank Lauren and all her tutoring through the years for, but more often than not, I didn’t do my homework because I was on the field tossing a football.
Jack had made the team, too, but I didn’t know if he knew about it yet. He hadn’t hung around to get the roster. Lauren was at home alone, and he’d mentioned that he had to go take care of some problem.
“Graham?”
I stopped as I saw Lauren sitting in her swing as I cut across the backyard.
As usual, just seeing the adoration on her sweet little face made me feel ten-feet-tall.
I sat on the swing next to her. “Whatcha doing, Peanut?”
“I’m sad,” she said directly, her gaze diverted to the ground.
For Lauren, cutting to emotion without analysis was unusual.
“Why?” Dammit! I hated seeing Lauren upset. I could tell that she’d been crying, and her glasses were smeared. I plucked them off her face and cleaned them with my T-shirt.
“Milly died,” she said with a quiver in her voice.
I put her glasses back on her face, my heart aching as I realized why Jack had needed to go home.
“What happened?” I knew her little poodle was old. Actually, Milly had been older than Lauren was, and I was pretty sure she’d probably had more years on her than Jack. The bitch had been a rescue dog, and I don’t think anybody had ever figured out her exact age.
But Lauren had adored Milly, and I hated to see her lose an old friend.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed the large teddy bear on her lap, a gift I’d given her over three years ago. Max, the stuffed animal, had been well worth the money I’d had to save to give it to her for her birthday. He was somewhat dilapidated, but by the looks of the bear, she used it well and often when she was upset. She looked up at me, obviously in distress. “I don’t know. I came home, and she was dead.”
I balked at the idea of Lauren coming home to find the dog she adored dead in the house. But I wanted to be strong for her. This wasn’t about me.
“She was old, Peanut. It was probably her time.”
“But I wasn’t ready yet.”
I thought about all of the losses I’d had in my life. I’d never been prepared for any of them, nor had I totally understood why they happened. “I don’t think you ever would have been ready,” I observed.
She tilted her head like she was considering my words. “Do you think so? I’m going to miss her terribly.”
When I looked at Lauren, I saw an adult trapped in a sweet little girl. That shit couldn’t be easy. She was smarter than the large percentage of adults, yet she wasn’t mature enough to handle all of that brain power.
One minute she reminded me of a college professor, and then at next glance, I could only see a little girl who was hurting.
I stood up and knelt beside her, swiping at the tears on her face with my shirt. “You gave her a good life, Peanut. She knew that you loved her. And you rescued her from a crappy life at a shelter.”
A few of my previous foster homes had animals, but I’d never gotten close to them. I didn’t know what it was like to love a pet. Hell, I didn’t know how to love people, much less a dog.
She gave me a worried look. “But she died all alone. That shouldn’t have happened.”
I flinched and tried to hide the fact that her comment hit a nerve. “Sometimes we can’t control what happens.”
“I know. But I don’t have to like death.”
As far as I knew, nobody liked anybody or anything they loved dying on them. I know I sure as hell didn’t.
I shook my head. “Nope. You don’t. Take your time and miss Milly if you want. Think about all the good memories you have of her. Eventually, it won’t hurt so much.”
“Did you ever have anybody die?” she asked curiously.
I nodded, but my throat closed up because of the knot that was lodged smack in the middle of my vocal cords.
She continued, “So you hurt, too?”
I found my voice. “Not so much anymore,” I told her. “But when my parents died, it was pretty bad.”
Honestly, it had been so long that I couldn’t quite remember their faces, but I knew I’d been hurt and confused.
“I’m sorry they died,” she said earnestly.
I cracked a small smile. “Thanks.”
Lauren almost knocked me over as she threw her little body into my arms. “I love you, Graham. Please don’t ever leave me.”
I put my arms around her and hugged her tight, squashing Max between us. She was afraid of losing anybody else she cared about. Genius or not, she was still emotionally sensitive. Maybe more so than the average kid because she couldn’t quite justify being unhappy in her head.
Death sucked. I knew the fear of experiencing it again after my father died. And my worst nightmare had come true. I didn’t want that for the girl I adored. “I won’t leave you. I promise,” I vowed.
She wiped her wet face on my T-shirt, but I didn’t give a damn. Lauren was the only person on Earth who told me that she loved me, and I cherished every damn word.
“I swear it will be okay,” I said hoarsely. “Should we go get some blueberry muffins?” They were Lauren’s favorite, and I’d go buy some if there wasn’t a mix in the house.
She drew back and looked at me with a dubious expression. “You realize that I’m smart enough to know that sweets won’t solve any of my problems?”
I ruffled her hair. “But it won’t hurt.”
She appeared to be analyzing my words before she replied, “I suppose not.”
I rose to my feet and handed Max to her. “Let’s go, smarty-pants.”
She smiled up at me and took my hand. “I feel a little bit better.”
Some of the pressure on my chest lifted as I walked her into the house. I wanted to protect her from anything dark or ugly in her life, and sometimes I felt so damn helpless. What in the hell did a fourteen-year-old guy say to an eleven-year-old girl to cheer her up?
I knew very little about happiness. All I knew was survival.
It was probably all I’d ever understood.
I love you, too, Peanut.
Maybe if I could tell Lauren just once that I loved her like the sister I’d never had, it would make her feel better. She said it all the time, but I’d never once voiced my own emotions.
I’d thought about it, but saying the words was something I never did.
Maybe it was better that way.
CHAPTER 13
Graham
THE PRESENT…
I never felt as free as I did when I was on the slopes racing at a breakneck pace down a challenging run on the mountain.
But today was different.
I was fucking terrified.
I stayed with Lauren as she took control of her run, expertly maneuvering her way down the black diamond slope.
She’d shocked the hell out of me when she’d chosen one of the hardest courses. I’d been proud of her for just stepping up to the longer runs. There was no way in hell I could have predicted what had just happened.