Dearest Series Boxed Set

by Lex Martin

  I stare at him. “What?”

  “Exactly, dickhead. You’re not listening.” He glares at me a long minute before tossing a napkin at my head.

  “Sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted.”

  “Ya think?” He chuckles. “This has to be about a girl.”

  “Why do you assume that? Maybe I’m waiting on a call from my agent.”

  “This can’t be football because you’re usually serious as fuck about it, and it can’t be about that cunt Veronica because she just pisses you off.”

  “Hey, don’t call her that.” I might still be pissed at her, but that’s no excuse to call a woman that word.

  He places his hand over his heart. “So sorry. Let me rephrase. It can’t be about that bitchface Veronica.”

  Like that’s better. I shake my head, not interested in talking about her anymore. Or ever again for that matter.

  “This has nothing to do with her. She’s off, hopefully getting her life together. I wish her well.” Even as I say those words, I realize I don’t mean them. Not yet. I’m still too angry. But I know myself, and someday, I think I will mean it. At least, I hope I will.

  He gives me a look and then rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna recount all the ways that chick made you miserable. She even made you stop calling my sister by the nickname you gave her when you guys were in diapers.”

  Emmie. I couldn’t say Clem or Clementine when I was little, so she was my Emmie. After she and I worked through our baggage last fall, Veronica pitched a fit, making me swear I’d never call my ex-girlfriend by that nickname. I’m not sure why it was so important to her. Maybe it suggested too much familiarity. I don’t know. But the one time I slipped, Veronica threw a plate across my kitchen, shattering it against the wall.

  Jax makes a face. “I’m just glad you got both of your heads straight.”

  He would think I was with Veronica for some weird sex reason. But in the last year we were together, she and I barely slept together. We were too busy arguing.

  “Was it over my sister? Because you guys started talking again?” Jax asks, lowering his voice, sounding almost regretful. But that’s crazy, because Jax would never feel bad over me breaking up with Veronica.

  I rub the back of my neck. “That was part of it, I guess. But you and Clementine are two of my best friends. My oldest friends. And if Veronica didn’t understand my need to work through things with Clem, then she never understood the kind of person I want to be.” Sighing only partially eases the ache that still lingers. “You and your twin sister are a package deal. It sucked only having you around. No offense.”

  “Ouch, bro.” He gives me a pained grimace, and I toss a crouton at his head, which he dodges with a laugh.

  “How’s your girl doing?” I ask, hoping his favorite subject turns this conversation into something less depressing before I put my head in the oven. “And please don’t tell me any more shit about the two of you and porn,” I mumble under my breath.

  His eyes light and he smiles a big, goofy grin. “Dani’s fucking awesome. What can I say? I love her.”

  I laugh and grab my Gatorade bottle for a drink. “Have you guys set a date?” Shockingly enough, my former manslut best friend fell in love last year with his sister’s roommate. Taking the saying “Go Hard or Go Home” seriously, he asked Dani to marry him during half time at a Celtics game while on the kissing cam.

  “No, we’re gonna wait until she’s done with school, and I can finish out my first season.”

  Nodding, I can’t help but be proud of him. He got recruited to play pro soccer, and for the first time ever, he’s focused on all of the right things.

  “Remind me to thank Dani for setting you straight.”

  He laughs. “I do it every day.”

  Aww, shit. There he goes, getting that little lovesick look in his eyes again.

  I clear my throat, deciding to come clean after Jax’s little display of affection for Dani. “So… I’ve maybe met someone.”

  His hand freezes midway between his plate and his open mouth. “I knew it!” He slams his fist down with a laugh. “And she’s not some she-devil lunatic parading as a normal human being?”

  “She’s pretty awesome, actually.” I’m tempted to tell him more, but it’s still early, and I promised Maddie to keep us under wraps. Although we made that agreement when we were just sleeping together, I’m hoping last night changed something for her. It did for me.

  “And?” He drops his fork and waits.

  “And nothing. She’s a friend, and I like her. She’s really talented and funny and driven. She has her shit together, and I enjoy spending time with her.”

  Silence settles between us until his lip turns up into something that resembles a snarl. “Dude, that’s all you’re gonna give me? For real?”

  “Sorry, man.”

  He holds his hands up. “Fine. I won’t pry because you’re obviously serious about this girl.” Then his eyebrow lifts. “But she’s hot, right?”

  “Fuck, yes, she’s hot. Now stop digging.”

  We eat in silence, and then he chuckles. “I bet she’s psyched about your bachelor contest, huh?”

  Oh, hell.

  That stupid thing. I wish I could just donate money to the St. Martin’s Homeless Shelter like I have in the past, but my financial situation isn’t the same anymore, and I have to budget more carefully.

  But hopefully the contest doesn’t upset Maddie. Besides, she has a front row seat. She’s one of the hosts of the event, so I know she understands why I’m doing this.

  Even so, I wish we could date like normal people and not have everything we do scrutinized.

  I nod at Jax. “It’ll be cool. I’m sure we can handle it.” I hope.

  Thirty

  - Maddie -

  The door to Daren’s condo whips open as I lift my hand to knock, and I jerk back, surprised to see Jax on the other side.

  “Maddie!” Jax says, a smirk on his face once he realizes who I am. His eyes shift to Daren, and he says something under his breath.

  “Hey, Jax. Long time no see. How’s it going?”

  “It’s going well. I love those segments you’ve been doing with dickhead here. You do a good job of making him look like a stud.” Then he elbows Daren with a laugh.

  Glancing back and forth between the two of them, I’m almost certain they’re having a full-on dude conversation without saying a word.

  I take in Daren’s faded jeans and snug gray t-shirt. Gah! Just the way it clings to his chest makes my mouth water. “Clutch does a pretty good job of looking like a stud without my help.”

  A huge, dimpled smile spreads on Daren’s lips, and I’m pretty sure that look alone is enough to dissolve the panties from a girl’s body.

  Jax starts to punch Daren again, but Daren gets one in first, and then in a split second, he has Jax in a headlock.

  “What were you saying, asshole?” Daren asks Jax in a sweet voice.

  “Your momma.”

  They both crack up, and Jax shoves off his buddy.

  Daren dusts off his hands and says, “Don’t talk about my momma. She changed your diaper when you were little.” He smacks the back of Jax’s head. “She’s seen your wee willy winky, so shut the fuck up.”

  “Thanks for that reminder.” Jax shivers and makes a face as he grabs his crotch.

  “Okay, boys. This is a fascinating study in male bonding, but I need to go in a minute, so…” I look to Daren, and he nods.

  He turns to Jax, yanks him in for a quick hug with a slap on his back, and then tells him to get the fuck out. A second later, he’s pulling me into his condo, shoving his buddy out and slamming the door.

  “You’re a dick, but I love you,” Jax shouts from the other side.

  “Love you too, sweetheart. See you next week,” Daren yells back before he turns to me, a coy expression playing on his lips.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  We stare at each other, the room qu
iet in a way that emphasizes how loudly my heart is beating. Jesus, calm down.

  Then we both start talking at the same time.

  “Thank you so much for the flowers.”

  “I’m sorry if the flowers were too much.”

  We stare at one another again and laugh.

  Why am I playing it safe? Stop being so damn rigid, Maddie.

  I clear my throat. “This is stupid, Daren.”

  His head tilts to one side, his expression suddenly serious.

  Stepping closer, I wrap my arms around his neck. His hands automatically fall to my waist.

  It’s hard to miss the relief in his eyes. “What’s stupid, baby?”

  Even though I should probably tell him not to send me anything at work, the bouquet was such a thoughtful gesture that I can't bring myself to do it. No, what I want to do is kiss him senseless.

  I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his, and his fingers tighten on my hips. “Why would you apologize? I loved the flowers.” I kiss him again and lean into his big, hard body. “No one has ever sent me lavender roses before. They’re beautiful. Breathtaking.”

  He whips me around until I’m pressed against the door, and his hand goes to my hair, tugging until my lips fall open, so he can kiss me deeply. So deeply I feel it like a tidal wave in my girlie parts.

  “Mmm.” I lean back and smile, loving how he fills my vision. “I wish I could get naked with you, but I have some research to do tonight, and I’m afraid if I indulge in your brand of orgasms, I won’t be able to function.”

  He chuckles as I kiss him again, and then I nuzzle into his neck, taking a moment to breathe in his crisp cologne that’s faded but still smells so yummy I can almost taste it. Plus, I’m squirmy, that pulse between my legs going a million miles an hour.

  “It’s okay. I need to study some film. Wanna work here? I promise not to violate you before ten p.m.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I kiss his neck and then break away from him before I give into my overwhelming urge to strip naked and do it against his door. “Let me run home and change into something more comfortable, and I’ll grab us some snacks.” I really don’t want to hang out in a suit and heels.

  His eyebrow lifts. “How comfortable are we talking? Like, pasties and a thong comfortable?”

  I laugh and smack him playfully on the arm. “No, goofball. Yoga pants and a t-shirt.” I lean in for one more quick kiss before I head for the door. “We’ll save the pasties and thong for the weekend.” Then I give him a wink before I run back to my place.

  Thirty-One

  - Maddie -

  We never say we’re more, but our early agreement seems too rigid for what we are. I mean, we’re definitely friends, and I’m wholeheartedly enjoying the benefits, but somehow Daren seems more like a boyfriend than anyone else I’ve ever dated.

  Maybe it’s the way he smiles at me when he thinks I’m not looking. Or the way he puts my feet in his lap while he’s studying film. Or even how he likes to wrap his arm around me when we’re watching TV. Whatever this is, I like it.

  Sometimes I stay over. Most of the time, though, I go home. I don’t want to make assumptions, so I try to take it day by day despite my typical need to plan out my life in five-year increments. But I love that he always tells me to stay.

  And while I want to define what we have, I’m afraid to burst our bubble, to mess with our equilibrium. So we don’t talk about what we are, and we don’t share how we feel.

  I shake my head, determined to keep this simple. What we have works, and it’s two parts thrilling and one part terrifying, but I’ve decided to be a big girl and trust him. Because even though we’re sleeping together, I’ve come to think of him as my friend first and not just my lover.

  The weight of his stare catches my attention.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Clutch, but it’s not working.”

  His laughter tells me I’m right.

  Even though I don’t look up, I know Daren is watching me. I ignore him, but I can’t hide my smile. We’re hanging out at his place another evening. I told him if we worked for another hour, I'd play Plants and Zombies. After that one win, I've been on a huge losing streak, but I like to talk smack, and he's too much fun to rile up. I love how serious he gets. How his jaw tightens and his lips thin out. Even how he yells at the screen. Boys and their video games.

  At least it's something fun we can do while we're camped out at his place. It’s one of the self-imposed restrictions we’ve made. We can’t go anywhere public. If we’re seen together in any kind of social setting, that could suggest we’re involved romantically. Spencer made a lewd comment about us after taping our weekly segment, which I don’t totally understand. The jerk told me to flirt, to make Daren seem appealing.

  Maybe I’m doing it too well.

  My stomach twists. I hate sneaking around. I’ve finally given in to biting my nails again, which means I have to hold the mic a certain way on camera so you can’t see how neurotic I’ve become.

  One thing is for certain. I can’t blow this. I might be moonlighting as a sports reporter, but if I’m to be taken seriously in news, I can’t be seen having an affair with the guy I’m covering each week.

  Despite how guilty I feel for breaking nearly every rule in my profession by having this relationship, I know Daren is different. I know this means something. What, I’m not sure, but I want to find out. Because maybe down the road, when I’m not covering his team and he’s not my weekly feature, we could happen for real.

  Football season only lasts five months. I just have to get through this one season. And then… maybe.

  So here we sit at Daren’s another evening.

  I actually love it. I’m so used to toiling by myself—working on articles or researching stories—it’s nice to have someone to keep me company.

  Besides, Daren is usually wiped after practice anyway, so we veg out in sweats and try to prepare for the following day.

  Except right now, Daren isn’t studying his playbook. He’s staring. At me.

  When I look up, he glances away and returns to his McDonald’s sundae.

  The man has the appetite of a T-Rex. I’ve learned to get dozens of eggs and loaves of bread when I go shopping. While he eats pretty healthy generally, tonight he splurged and made a quick snack run, which he claimed would help him study his playbook. I called bull, but he kissed me on the nose and promised to get me a Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee, so I gave him a free pass.

  But now he’s not studying. He’s staring. Again.

  I don’t look up from my laptop. “What?” I mumble on the pen I’m chewing. Ick. I’m chewing a pen, but the jerk’s making me nervous.

  “You look cute all serious over there.” I can hear the smile in his voice, but it’s only nine, which means we should work another hour before any nighttime activities begin. But his cologne is wafting over, and I’m dying to run my nose over his neck.

  I squirm in my seat. God, just the thought has me on edge.

  “I can’t focus when you’re staring at me, Clutch.”

  “Wanna bite?” He dips his spoon into his chocolate sundae. It has nuts sprinkled on top.

  Mmm, I would commit an assortment of crimes for a bite of ice cream, but I’ve missed a couple of workouts this week, and Spencer will freak if I gain any weight.

  When I decline, he frowns. “Stop thinking about calories, Maddie. You’re fucking perfect. Your body is a testament that God exists.”

  I can’t help smiling. “Okay, Sloan, that was a good one.” I take a break from my screen that’s starting to get blurry from staring at it so long and face him. Daren’s just wearing sweats and a plain white t-shirt that stretches taut over his muscular chest, but heaven help me, he makes cotton look good. What is it about this guy in t-shirts?

  Even decked out in something this casual, he’s sinfully sexy. His hair is damp from a shower, and it hangs into those flirty hazel eyes. His skin is tan from long afternoon
s in the sun, and I want to run my lips over those strong cheekbones and down his stubbled jaw.

  With a mischievous grin on his face, he scoots over until we’re thigh to thigh, and then he scoops up a big bite and raises it to me. But just as I’m leaning forward and opening my mouth, he pulls away and eats it.

  “What the eff?”

  He laughs. “What the eff? Babe, I’ve hard you say all kinds of dirty things when we’re together, so I know you can do better than that.”

  “Fine,” I huff. “What the fuck, Daren? Give me a bite right now.”

  He holds up his sundae, a devilish glint in his eyes. “So you want it in your mouth?”

  My face burns and my jaw drops open. No one has ever talked to me like Daren. He can turn my most innocent statements into something sexual. And I won’t lie. I like it.

  I take a breath. “Yes… I want it in my mouth.”

  He sets the spoon on the coffee table before he dips his finger in the ice cream, but as he brings it near me, I eye him skeptically, wondering if he’s going to whip it away again. Instead, he dabs it across my lips.

  “That’s a good look for you.”

  My thighs clench. I know full well he’s trying to turn me on. It’s working. Well, two can play this game.

  “Mmm,” I groan, slowly licking my lips. “It’s sweet. And kind of salty. Just the way I like it.”

  He’s not smiling anymore.

  But I am.

  Daren dips his finger back in the sundae and brings it to my mouth. I lick the tip and smile before I open wider and suck him deeper. A little moan escapes me as I reach up and guide his finger in and out, making sure to keep my eyes trained on him as I swirl my tongue around him.

  His nostrils flare, his breath hot on my cheek as he leans closer. When I release him from my mouth, I smack my lips and raise my eyebrow. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

  Next thing I know, my laptop is gone and I’m horizontal on the floor with one very large Daren Sloan hovering over me.