by Emma Salah
“I guess we’re going to be the only ones with a championship under our belts then if your teams have to put faith in the two of you,” Aidan said.
He bumped fists with Zac, while Dean booed loudly and Malcolm rolled his eyes.
Reagan laughed. “We get it. We get it. You guys won the cup. At some point it’s going to get old.”
“It’s old right now,” Dean grumbled.
“Nobody likes a sore loser,” Zac said. “If any of you guys won, we would gladly give you the bragging rights until the next season began. Until that happens, suck it up.”
“Okay,” her dad said, standing up and walking over to them. “I think we’ve had enough trash-talking for one evening. Dinner.”
“Callum isn’t here yet,” Malcolm mentioned.
“He’ll join us when he gets here. Help me set the table, Reagan,” her dad added in a commanding tone.
Reagan threw her empty bottle into the trash and went to help.
* * *
Once it was done and the food was placed, they all sat down in their usual places. Unfortunately, it meant that she was at the end, and Zac was directly in front of her again, with Malcolm and Dean on her left. She met Zac’s gaze directly and held it for the first time that night.
He looked on impassively, elbows on the table. His knees brushed hers and sent shivers down her spine. No one would ever be able to tell that he had thrust his cock into her pussy and made her come harder than she had ever come before. But inside? Inside, she was an absolute and utter mess. And now she was thinking about it again. She resisted the urge to squirm in her seat, because then he would know.
Too late. His lips curved into a smile that screamed he knew exactly what was on her mind. Reagan was not a good enough liar to keep it off her face that she knew that he knew so now he knew that she knew he knew.
“Reagan? Reagan?” Dean called her name.
It was only when he waved his hand in front of her face that she snapped out of it.
“Huh?” She turned to look at him, stupidly.
Everyone at the table stared at her.
“You okay?” Aidan asked, eyes narrowed with concern.
She swallowed. “Yeah.”
“You’re sweating,” Dean pointed out.
“It’s hot in here,” she shot back, glad for the excuse. “What were you saying?”
“We weren’t saying anything, Dad was about to make a speech,” Aidan answered.
“Sorry, Dad,” she said, sheepishly.
Lincoln sat at the head of the table. He acknowledged her apology with a slight tilt of his head.
“I only have a few words,” he began, meeting each of their gaze. Immediately, they all sobered at the seriousness of his tone.
“First, I want to say that it’s nice having you all home, with the exception of Callum. But he’ll be here when he gets here. I want you to know that all my boys and my girl have made me proud and that includes you too, Zac. You are like a son to me. And no matter what you all do, if you win or lose games, I’ll always be proud of you. Having you come here whenever you can means more to me than you will ever know.”
Wow. Reagan sat in her seat stunned. She wasn’t used to hearing words like that coming from her dad, so when they did it left her feeling incredibly moved. Proud of her? She couldn’t help the little seed of doubt that wormed its way in. Was he really proud of her? She wasn’t a hockey-playing super-god like Aidan or Zac, or a multimillionaire amazing football player, like Dean or Malcom, and she definitely wasn’t like her talented baseball-playing brother Callum, who was also a certified genius. At least her work was related to sports, right?
She wasn’t like them. She knew what she had though. She had a good job that she enjoyed and loved. Good friends who were there for her whenever she needed them. And a family that might have some baggage but were at the core of who she was. Reagan needed to be grateful for that and stop wanting something that she could never have. Like having her father see her for her.
“Are you dying?” Dean suddenly demanded.
“Dean!” Malcolm hissed.
“What?” he asked. “Come on, it’s not like you weren’t all thinking it.”
Their dad sighed. “No, I am not dying.”
They all visibly relaxed. Thank god. For a moment there, she was left wondering too.
“Then, aww, shucks. Thanks, old man.” Dean wiped away an imaginary tear. “It’s nice of you to say you’re proud of us all, but let’s get real...we all know that I’m your favorite. Stick with me and I’ll get you a gold cane like a real pimp. Where do you think they get canes like that? Does Pimps-R-Us exist?”
“Swear to god!” Aidan said over their laughter. “If it wasn’t for Malcolm, I would think you were dropped on our doorstep.”
“Hey!” Dean said, offended. “I’m older than you! If anyone was adopted, it’s more likely going to be you.”
“Less talking and more eating,” Malcolm said, reaching for a bowl of mashed potatoes and pushing it into Dean’s chest.
“Thank god,” Zac agreed.
They all dug in.
The food was good. Considering her dad had definitely ordered it from Mama Jones and had not attempted to cook it himself that was a blessing. Occasionally, Callum cooked, but they otherwise always got takeout. Not that she was complaining, but she wasn’t going to be twenty-five years old forever. Maybe, she shouldn’t have a second helping of pie.
She looked at the all-that yummy goodness. And before she realized it, there was another helping on her plate and her mouth was full of lemon pie. Mm, now that is some seriously delicious stuff.
A rich, deep laugh rang through the room. Reagan closed her eyes, pretending to be savoring the lemon pie she was chewing and not the sound of Zac’s laughter. I’m not going to look at him, she thought desperately. Just pretend he wasn’t there and if worse came to worst, she was just going to think of him as one of her family members. Like a distant cousin.
Zac was laughing at something Aidan said. He had a great laugh. Deep, but not too deep. If she was pressed against him, she’d be able to feel his laughter resonate through her. Bad, Reagan. The thought had her tingling. She made a move to bring the tray of vegetables closer to her, but the side of her arm caught her beer. It tipped over and the dark liquid poured out. Everyone jumped out of its way.
She gasped and made a quick grab for it. She righted the bottle, but it was too late. The damage was already done to the table.
“Oh crap,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Whoa,” Aidan exclaimed.
Malcolm grabbed some kitchen towels quickly and passed them to her. She thanked him as she began to mop up the mess, not that it helped very much. Everyone was still looking at her.
“Sorry,” she said again to no one in particular.
Shit, what is wrong with me? She didn’t want to look at anybody, but the room was too quiet.
“It’s okay, Reagan. Just take a breath,” Malcolm said, quietly.
She looked up and found everyone staring at her. All with different expressions of worry. Except for Zac. He looked furious. And Reagan knew in that moment she could not handle another second in this room.
“I’m okay. I... Let me get some wipes.”
Reagan hurried out of the room, ignoring the surprised comments from her family.
Chapter Eight
Zac sat at the table, stunned. His eyes were glued to where Reagan had just been sitting moments before. What the fuck just happened?
“What the fuck was that?” Aidan asked beside him.
“I was about to ask you,” Dean said, frowning. “What’s wrong with baby sis?”
“I have no fucking clue. She was fine when I saw her last week,” Aidan growled.
Yeah, she was fine, until Zac fucked her that is. Now, everything was different
. Reagan had barely looked him in the eye all night and she hadn’t even said more than two words to him. Usually, they would spend monthly dinners at her dad’s joking, trash-talking, playing video games before ending up where they’d ended up every time since their first kiss—taking a walk through Muckberry field. Just the two of them. But like he thought, he was an absolute and utter idiot. They couldn’t just go back to pretending that he didn’t know what her mouth tasted like when she was panting out an orgasm. Or how her ass had felt against his cock, so round and perfect he’d jerked off to the thought of it last night and the night before that and the night before that. Or how much she liked it when he spanked her ass.
Fucking her hadn’t made him want her less; if anything he wanted her more. Watching her sit across from him with that fork in her mouth, her eyes closed in bliss while she swallowed that pie had been torture. This whole night had been torture. The only reason why he hadn’t bailed out from the beginning was because he was determined to have everything return to normal. And it wasn’t going to happen unless he did something.
Zac stood up, pushing his chair backwards. The guys all looked at him, stopping midway through the conversation he hadn’t bothered to listen to.
“I’ll go speak to her,” he announced.
“Maybe I should go?” Malcolm asked, looking at him.
“Let me. It’s probably nothing, but I’ll talk to her and find out,” Zac said, hoping they would all just agree. He knew Reagan. No matter how upset she was, she wouldn’t tell her brothers the truth, and fuck, wasn’t that just a kicker? He knew she’d lie for him. I need to be the one to clear the air between us. Or else if he let this go on for too long, they might never be able to go back to the easiness that used to exist between them. And he’d hate that, to never be close with her again.
Malcolm looked as if he wanted to argue further when Lincoln spoke.
“Let Zac go. We all know Reagan listens to him more than the rest of us. He was the only one who could get her out of the tree house after she spray painted the Hersheys’ wall for being racist assholes. Zac will find out what is troubling her.”
Lincoln nodded at him with approval. Fuck, he really wished he could take back what’d happened now, but there was no ignoring the guilt that crept up on him with Lincoln’s words.
Zac dropped his napkin and began to leave the room.
“Women,” Aidan muttered behind him. “Why are they so hard to understand?”
“See here, Aidan, it’s because women have a different biological structure. They have this thing called estrogen pumping through them that makes them act irrational and completely crazy,” Dean replied.
“When you get married, I will not be surprised to learn that your wife strangled you in your sleep.”
“Just don’t finish all the fucking pie. Ree will kill you guys if you do,” Zac said over his shoulder, knowing it was useless, because even as he said it he caught a glimpse of Dean stuffing his face with another slice that was as large as his fist.
Zac left the room.
* * *
Reagan made her way to the cleaning closet down the hall, hoping to find something to clean the table, but to also calm down. The room was dark, but she didn’t bother turning on the light. She knew where everything was. Going to the last rack, she squatted down and pushed a few bleach bottles out of the way to get to the wipes.
Get a grip, Reagan. If she kept acting like this everyone would guess there was something up with her. She clutched the wipes. You can do this. She took a deep breath. All I have to do is spend the next hour or two making chitchat, finish my food and get the hell out of here. And when she got home, then she could think about how exactly she was going to proceed with Zac. It was easy to tell Letty that she was going to make Zac fall in love with her, but she didn’t have any idea of how to actually do that.
You couldn’t make someone love you. Either they did or didn’t. And from everything she had seen so far, Zac did not love her. He never told her how he was feeling, never shared his most vulnerable parts with her and if he did, he quickly backtracked and acted like he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. Reagan had parts of him, but she didn’t have all of him. But she had to try, didn’t she? She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life wondering “what if?” What if Zachariah Quinn was the one for her? She was pretty sure, but then again, they had never dated.
Reagan brought the wipes to her chest. She had been imagining what dating Zachariah Quinn would be like since she was fifteen years old. Almost like an extension of their friendship right now, but more. Better. Infinitely better, because they would be able to kiss and touch whenever they wanted to.
The sound of the door opening and closing brought her out of her contemplation. She stood up quickly, dropping the wipes to the ground.
“What the—” she started.
Zac prowled towards her. She couldn’t see his face clearly, but she could practically feel the anger radiating off him. He stopped a couple of inches away from her.
“What the fuck was that, Ree?” he snapped.
She opened her mouth, unsure of what she was going to say. She closed it again and then swallowed.
Finally, all she could say was, “I don’t know.”
“If you keep acting so nervous and skittish, your brothers are definitely going to know that there is something going on!”
“I know!” she snapped back.
Her hand curled into a fist. How was it that she was a mess after having sex with him once and, yet, he acted like barely anything had happened between them? She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to meet them.
“Look,” he sighed. “You need to stop acting so nervous.”
“Don’t you think I would if I could?”
Zac stood close enough that she could smell him, his woodsier, masculine scent filling her lungs every time she took a deep breath. The racks on either side of her felt closer, the room suddenly a hell of a lot smaller and the calm she had been feeling a few moments ago was now disappearing fast.
“And why did you follow me in here?” She groaned.
He really needed to stop following her into enclosed spaces or she could not be held responsible for her actions. Namely when she pushed him up against the wall and had her wicked way with him. Don’t lick your lips. Do not do it.
“What happened between us at Steven’s party—” Zac said, as he took a step forward.
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
No, no, that’s not what I mean, I just don’t want you to have a heart attack at the age of twenty-seven if I told you how crazy in love with you I actually am. So here I am acting like a complete moron, hoping you might feel even a bit of what I’m feeling for you.
“I think we do,” he replied. “Or else you wouldn’t be acting this weird. I don’t want things to be weird between us, Ree,” Zac said quietly.
Yep, too late for that. How exactly was she supposed to act around him now? Was there a manual for people who banged their brother’s best friend and childhood crush out there? No? Maybe she could use her discomfort to make millions, then.
She looked at him and saw his blue eyes watching her, waiting for her to tell him that she felt the same way.
“I don’t either,” she admitted.
“Then, can we go back to being friends?”
Hadn’t she agreed with Letty? Hadn’t she decided to fight for Zac and stop letting him push her away? Well, there was no time like the present to test the waters.
Taking a deep breath, Reagan took a hesitant step forward on her Converses.
“Is that what you really want?” she whispered.
He said nothing. Not a good sign, but not a bad sign either. She took another step forward, until they were so close her nipples grazed his chest. She shivered.
“What are you doing, Ree?” he asked, his v
oice a little deeper, a little rougher.
“Do you really want to go back to being friends?” Reagan whispered, coming onto her tiptoes so she could say the words closer to his mouth.
To help with her balance, she reached out and grasped his shoulders. She leaned into him a little more, every inch of his chest and her chest now pressed together. She gasped from the heat of his body and stared at his lips. The full biteable bottom one had her aching to take it between her teeth.
He steadied her by placing a hand on each side of her waist. She wanted him to slip his hands under her top and touch her skin. She was dying from wanting.
“We can’t do this again, Ree,” he said, some of his desperation leaking out. “We need to go back to being friends.”
Oh. Her eyes flickered up to his blue eyes. He wants me, she thought with shock. She knew that he wanted her but she didn’t realize that he couldn’t resist her just as much as she couldn’t resist him. Letty was right. This, I can work with this and make him see that there’s a reason why we can’t stay away from each other. As soon as she thought that, all of her fear seeped out of her.
“Zac,” she said with a smile. “I hate to break this to you, but I don’t kiss my friends at night. I don’t make out with them in my car or dry hump them on a sofa. And I definitely don’t fuck them against the wall of some party.”
She leaned forward and bit into his bottom lip. Give in. She wanted him to give in so badly. To not just desire her, but to love her too. He let out a guttural sound that had blazing heat and relief trailing down her spine. He stroked her back lightly up to her shoulders, to her nape. Gently clasping her hair, he tilted her head back, away from him. His eyebrows were furrowed, but she couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset. Have I gone too far? Maybe he didn’t want to—
Her mind short-circuited when he dragged her upwards, until she was on the very tips of her toes, and took her mouth. Yes. Everything inside of her whispered and yearned. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. If I could kiss him forever, I’d die happy. His tongue swept in, bold and strong. She whimpered as he shifted between her legs, pressing his growing erection into her. I want him again.