“Fuck off.”
He laughs, slapping his hand on the table as he shakes his head. “Goddamn, I never thought I’d see the day you were whipped over a girl. And before Adam, too. Figured for sure it’d be him that fell into the black hole first.”
I flip him off before picking up a few fries from my plate. “For all you know, he’s as whipped as they come. It’s not like we Skype every night with him. Or maybe you do? Maybe that’s why you’re not pussy-whipped. Too busy chasing dick?”
He laughs, repeating my earlier sentiment. “Fuck off. You remember that pact we took in, what, fifth grade? No girls, ever. It was gonna be just the three of us for life. Roommates right out of high school and we were gonna spend our days doing nothing but eating chips and playing video games. What a bunch of dumbasses we were. I mean, I love you guys, but I also love girls. And boobs. A lot.”
I snort, shaking my head as I take a pull of my beer. “We’d kill each other if we lived together. You need a fucking revolving door on your bedroom. And I don’t even wanna know what you’d do to my kitchen counters, you pervert.”
“Oh, Christ, not this again. That was one time and I was sixteen! What the hell was I supposed to do?” He takes a big bite of his burger, talking out of the side of his mouth as he chews. “Tell Sherri Campbell I didn’t want her to suck my dick, and hey, thanks for offering to have sex with me in my friend’s kitchen, but no thanks. My buddy’d be pretty pissed if we did anything on his precious counters. I’ll just jack off after I bring you home . . .”
“Well, fucking hell, you could’ve at least told me before we ate on them an hour later.” I shudder, reliving that night all over again.
“Maybe you need to have impromptu sex on a counter just once and then you’ll stop harassing me about what my hormone-addled brain couldn’t say no to seven damn years ago.”
“Who says I haven’t?” I haven’t, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Just because you insist on replaying every gory detail of your sexual adventures doesn’t mean I do.”
His eyebrows lift as he leans forward, his forearm braced on the high table, a grin on his face. “Really. Spitfire?”
With a scowl, I flip him off again and take another swig of my beer. Knowing he’s picturing her like that sends a wave of anger through me. “I’m not talking to you about this.”
“You’ve always talked to me about it before.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but his eyes focus sharply on me. “What gives?”
“She’s . . .” I shake my head, looking down as I pick at the food on my plate. “I don’t know, man. She’s different. She’s . . . important.”
He’s quiet for a minute, and when I look up at him, his mouth is hanging open. “Holy fuck, dude.”
“What?”
“Are you . . . I mean . . . do you love her?”
I open my mouth to respond, but snap it shut when I realize I don’t have an answer. I haven’t given it much thought—or any thought, really—but I know I love being around her. I can’t wait to see her at the end of the day, if for only fifteen minutes to make sure she gets home safely. And the nights she doesn’t work and we both use to catch up at school, I miss her. Her smile and her sense of humor and her strength.
I’ve never been in love before, so I have no idea what any of what I’m feeling means. But I’m smart enough to know that if I’m not already in love with her, I will be.
Soon.
winter
It’s hard keeping my mind on my customers when Cade’s just across the restaurant. I knew he was doing something with Jason tonight, but I didn’t know they were planning to come here. His laugh draws my eyes over to their table, and he looks so relaxed, so happy. I’ve never had a friend with whom I could relax completely, actually be happy.
Or I didn’t until I met him.
It’s not too busy tonight, and I’m able sneak in a few minutes here and there to work on some design sketches in the back during my downtime. I’d be in serious trouble if Randy caught me, but Annette’s good at keeping watch, and the other girls have been doing the same thing. Finals are coming up, these last few weeks kicking everyone’s asses, and I need every extra minute I can get.
I head over to one of my tables, a group of eight—five guys, three girls—celebrating a birthday. They’ve been boisterous but harmless, with the exception of one of the guys, whose hands have roamed the few times I’ve been to his side of the table.
“Anyone need another round?” I ask, doing a quick scan of the table to see who could use another. They’re all still nursing their drinks except for the one whose hands have a mind of their own.
He holds up his drink, shaking the lonely ice cubes in the glass. “Keep ’em coming, gorgeous.”
I paint on my fake smile, grabbing the glass from him and skirting away before he can touch me.
When I’m at the bar, I say, “Hey, Annette, can I get another Jack and Coke?”
“Sure thing, sugar.” She grabs a glass, tossing in some ice and mixing the drink. “How is it tonight?” she asks with a tip of her chin to the group.
“Not bad. One of them seems to think he’s my boyfriend, though.”
“I have faith you can handle him,” she says with a wink, sliding the drink across the bar top to me. “Put him in his place like you always do. Careful, though, you’ve got an audience tonight.” She says the last part quietly, her eyes flitting to the back briefly. Without turning around, I know Randy is standing in the hallway to his office, looking over everything. He’s been doing that more and more over the last couple of weeks, and it’s starting to creep me out.
I tip my head in thanks and turn to make my way back to my table and the guy who ordered the drink. Keeping as much physical distance between us as possible, I lean over and place the glass in front of him. Unfortunately, no matter how much space I put between us, these outfits aren’t meant to conceal anything, and his eyes linger on the scoop neck of my shirt, getting an eyeful of the small bit of cleavage my less-than-ample breasts show.
He pushes away from the table slightly and leans back in his chair, patting his knee and giving me what I’m sure he thinks passes as an inviting smile. “Why don’tcha sit down for a minute, honey?”
I offer him the fake smile I use like a weapon in here, the corner of my mouth turned down as if the thought is tempting but I just can’t. “Sorry, my boss is kind of a stickler with not letting us sit with the customers. He likes to keep us up and moving.”
“I can see why. You look mighty fine up and moving.” His gaze drops to sweep over me head to toe, and I’m crawling under my skin. “But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, just this once.” This time, he reaches out, his hand skimming up the back of my thigh until his fingers are centimeters from the curve of my ass. From the corner of my eye, I see Cade stand at his table. His hulking frame takes up so much space, and I don’t have to look at him to know there’s murderous rage on his face at the sight of this guy touching me.
I move to step away from the guy who can’t keep his hands to himself, but he slips his hand around my waist and tugs. Caught off guard, I lose my balance, toppling into his lap. His sour breath is in my face, his lips against my ear. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Before I can answer, Cade is next to me, body looming and tensed for a fight. I shoot him a sharp glare and subtle shake of my head, warning him to stay back as I remove the hands around my waist and stand up. Turning a falsely sweet smile to the guy whose lap I just got out of, I say, “Now you’re gonna get me in trouble. You better behave the rest of the night or I’ll have to get Annette”—I point to her and the glare she’s offering this guy—“to fill in for me. And believe me, she’s not as nice as I am.”
He holds up his hands, grinning, his eyes drooping in a drunken haze. “Okay, okay. I’ll be good.”
I tip my head and turn to go, narrowing my eyes at Cade as I head to the bar. “Annette, I’m gonna take a fifteen-minute break. I need some air.”
She looks over my shoulder to where I assume Cade is standing, glowering, then gives me a knowing look. “No problem. I’ll keep an eye on your tables.”
Looking once again at Cade, I turn and walk into the back room, not stopping until I’m out the door and against the brick wall of the building. No more than three minutes later, Cade’s in front of me, eyes still blazing.
My temper is simmering, the frustration I felt that first night when he plowed his way into my life sparking again. I poke a finger into his chest, tilting my head back as he looms over me, and speak through gritted teeth. “What the fuck was that?”
He looks stunned for a minute, his head snapping back as he stares, mouth agape. “What do you mean what the fuck was that? That was some asshole with his fucking paws all over you, again, and me coming to stop it!”
“Goddammit, Cade!” I yell, my hands thrown in the air. I shove hard at his chest, though he doesn’t move an inch, his body too tense. “Do you even listen to me? Haven’t we already had this discussion? Didn’t we have this same exact issue the first night we met?”
“This wasn’t some fucking misunderstanding, Winter,” he says, his voice low, his anger barely restrained. “This wasn’t me misinterpreting some asshole’s hands on you. This jackass pulled you, unwillingly, into his lap. His fingers were about an inch from your tits, and you expect me just to sit back and watch as some guy does that to my girlfriend?”
I don’t even have time to contemplate his comment and the fact that he’s claimed me as his, my anger boiling out of me in a rush of words. “Yes, that’s exactly what I expect you to do if you come into where I work. Have you learned nothing in the weeks we’ve been seeing each other? I need this job. It sucks sometimes, yeah, but I can handle it. I’ve been handling it for a long time, and I’ve done it all without you by my side. I’m not some poor, incapable girl who needs someone to swoop in and rescue her. And if that’s all you’re here for, you can go find someone else, because I don’t need it.” I turn away, ready to go back inside, but he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. His chest is heaving against my back, his breaths harsh in my ear.
“You think that’s all I’m here for? That I have some fucking knight in shining armor complex? Jesus Christ, Winter, I can’t stand the thought of anyone putting their hands on you, and it drives me fucking crazy every night I’m not here knowing they might—that they probably are. But to see it? To see it and just sit there, not doing anything? I’m not the kind of guy who can just sit back and watch it happening—to anyone, let alone the woman I’m in love with!”
Every ounce of breath in my lungs vanishes in a long exhale, all the rage evaporating as confusion and terror and, dammit, hope take its place. His declaration hangs in the air between us, and I’m afraid to move, to breathe. In all my twenty-two years, this is the first time I’ve ever heard those words spoken to me, and my brain is in overdrive, all the ways this could come crashing down around me flashing through my mind.
Breaking the silence, Cade groans, his forehead falling to my shoulder. “Aw, fuck. I didn’t mean to say that.”
His honesty is refreshing, even as I’m frozen in uncertainty, and a breathless laugh escapes me. My throat is tight as I say, “Just what every girl wants to hear after declarations of love.”
“Forget I said anything.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Sure it does. Just go back to three minutes ago and pretend I kept my mouth shut and nodded after your tirade.”
“I know I can’t do that—you don’t keep your mouth shut about anything.”
After a deep exhale, he says, “Don’t even think about slinking away and never returning my calls.”
I reach down, patting his arm locked around my stomach, clutching me to his chest. “I don’t think I could escape even if I wanted to.”
“And you don’t? Want to?”
I take a deep breath and stare at the rough brick of the building, finding it easier to share my feelings without his eyes on me. “I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t scare me. It does. This is all new for me, Cade. I don’t know how to do this, and I’m afraid I’m going to screw it up.” The thought of what we have, what we could have, fills me with more hope than anything, and for once, I think I’m ready to try. “But my fight-or-flight response didn’t kick in, so I think maybe we’re good.”
He’s quiet for a minute before he lifts his head, his hand sweeping my hair behind my shoulder to bare my neck. He settles his cheek against my temple, his mouth by my ear. “Yeah?”
I close my eyes, praying I’m not making a mistake. That I’m not taking the first step to heartache. I nod. “Yeah.”
He presses his lips to my ear, then my neck. His breath washes over my collarbone, warming me from the outside in. “Good. Because I’m not ready to let you go yet.”
SEVENTEEN
cade
I toss the pizza dough into the oiled bowl and cover it, setting it aside for later. Ever since going to Winter’s apartment and seeing her eating that shitty, fake-ass pizza, I’ve wanted to make her some of mine, and tonight I’ll finally get the chance.
The clock reads just before five, so I wash my hands and peel off my apron, grabbing my books and laptop and setting them out on the island. Just as I open my computer, a knock sounds at the door. I make my way over and open it, smiling at Winter.
The strap of her bag is slung over her shoulder, and she has a couple books in her hands. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek again, and I wonder what it will take before she stops being nervous. I can never quite reconcile what, exactly, makes her apprehensive. It’s not me, because it doesn’t happen every time we’re together. She’s only been to my house once—that very first time—and maybe that’s what’s making her so anxious.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out with my other hand and tugging her inside. “I wish you’d let me come pick you up. Seems stupid for you to ride the bus when I have a perfectly good set of wheels.”
She smiles and adjusts her bag at her side. “You can hardly drive me everywhere I need to go, Cade. I don’t know why you think you have to.”
“I don’t think I have to. I want to. That’s a big difference.” I reach for the strap of her bag, slipping it from her shoulder as I carry it into the kitchen. I pull Winter behind me, her finger hooked in mine.
“Still. I need to do some things on my own. And you need to let me.” Her voice is firm, and though I want to argue with her, tell her all the reasons I want to be there for her, to protect her, I realize it’s a battle I won’t win today.
Instead, I keep my mouth shut and heft her bag on the counter. “You really thought we were gonna study, huh?” I say, pointing to her overflowing bag.
She raises an eyebrow, staring at me. “Did you bring me here under false pretenses?”
With a hand to my chest, my eyes wide, I gasp in mock offense. “Me? Never.”
“Mhmm.” She doesn’t sound convinced as she settles into the chair I pull out for her. “Where are Tessa and Haley?”
I take a seat next to her, grabbing the books I’m using for research on my term paper for Cajun and Creole cuisine. “Haley had a play date. They’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“So we’re all alone, then? I have to tell you, this ‘study date’ is sounding shadier and shadier.”
Leaning closer to her, I sweep her hair over her shoulder then slide my hand down her back until I tuck it into the waistband of her jeans, my fingers settled on the top curve of her ass. With my lips by her ear, I whisper, “Would that be the worst thing?”
She doesn’t say anything, just the subtlest shake of her head as she tucks her chin to her chest. When I pull away, she’s smiling into her lap, but her body is still tense, her shoulders rigid, hands fidgeting.
“You okay?”
Turning her head, she looks over at me, her eyes darting between mine. She doesn’t say anything, just nods, but I can read the tension radiati
ng off her.
“Bet I could get you to relax.” My lips are against hers, brushing with every word. I slip my tongue out, licking along the seam of her mouth. She opens to me, meets me halfway, and I groan at the first taste of her. She always tastes so fucking good.
She doesn’t protest as I move to stand, sliding her from the high bar stools and lifting her up against me. Her arms go around my shoulders, her legs around my waist as my hand settles on her ass, holding her to me. Gripping my face in her hands, she kisses me as I walk us down the hall to my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me, and locking it for good measure. While I don’t expect Tess or Haley for a while, I sure as fuck don’t want to take any chances that we get interrupted while Winter and I are getting naked in my room.
Once we’re in front of my bed, I drop her in the middle, her hair in a wild disarray around her. She’s so fucking beautiful. I want to spend hours studying every nuance of her. The cluster of freckles just under her collarbone, the indentation of her waist, the faint, paint-splatter birthmark on her hip. From the look she’s giving me, the pure hunger in her eyes, she feels the same.
I reach back, tugging on the neck of my shirt as I pull it over my head and toss it aside. Her eyes track down my body, and I’ve never been so grateful for the grueling hours of football or basketball, the days spent in my basement whaling on the punching bag, as I am when her eyes rake over me. Her breathing gets faster, her lips part, and as I shift my focus lower, I can see the evidence of her excitement in the two points pressing against the front of her shirt.
With a quick flick and a tug at the fly of my jeans, I have them off and on the floor in a pool next to my feet. I crawl over her, gathering her hands in mine as I pin them above her head.
“You forgot a piece . . .” she says, laughter in her eyes as she moves her leg to rub her thigh against the boxer briefs I still have on.
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