by Lindsey Hart
Sydney stared at Jesse with an open mouth. “Okay… first of all, that’s gross.”
“It’s not gross,” he assured her, dead serious. “It’s nature and part of a huge problem of waste that goes into the environment. Many of my co-workers are female and they swear by the underwear. It wasn’t me that created the product, I’ll put your mind at ease about that. We had a huge developmental team working on it.”
“And let me guess. Lots of them were pervy men.”
“None of them, actually.”
“Did any pervs try them out?”
“Not that I know of, but I can’t be responsible for the people who buy them.” Jesse’s lips quirked into a ghost of a smile, and Sydney squirmed on the couch.
She tried very hard to deny the fact that her ovaries, which were likely dusty as hell from disuse, had just kicked into overdrive. Was it possible that his smile just induced ovulation? Maybe she was pregnant just from looking at this man… this man who looked nothing like the boy she used to know.
Stop. That’s insanely ridiculous.
“We also make products for people who have bladder control challenges, a product that is comfortable and fits well. And then we have our sport line that is naturally moisture wicking to keep people dry and comfortable and rash free-”
She held up a hand. “Stop. Okay, I’ve heard enough. I don’t really care about how you got rich.”
Or those billboards that have your name and your company name plastered all over them. Or the magazines. She’d never really paid attention to any of it. She’d tried not to see it, which explained why she didn’t notice that her best friend blossomed. Blossomed? Was that the right word? Could a man blossom? If so, he’d definitely bloomed. Like a damn flower. The billboards and magazines seriously did not do him justice.
“What I do care about is that all of this…” she waved that hand around, indicating the house, but more so, the large problem that was bearing down on her, crushing the living hell out of her. “Was- is- a mistake.”
Jesse kept that level face, a poker face, whatever it was called. He looked at her without emotion. Gave absolutely nothing away. She wanted to punch him in that damn face just to crack that surface level, to see if anything else poured out. Any feeling.
If she cut him, did he still bleed like she did?
Fucking period panties. She hated that she wanted to give them a try. Maybe the moisture wicking ones too, since she hated getting sweaty ass crack when she jogged in the mornings. Maybe the bladder leak ones too, just for the hell of it. Too far. Too fucking far. Maybe none, because Jesse was clearly overconfident, and she didn’t want to add to that smug smile she did choose to focus on when she drove past a billboard.
“What kind of underwear would you recommend for an asshole problem?” she sassed, instead of getting down to the real issues, just because once upon a time, they’d been best friends, before everything went to hell in a hot ass handbasket, and she couldn’t help herself.
“Hmm.” Jesse scrunched up his face in consideration. “Really any of them would work. We have a few other lines too. Regular lines. Seamless lines. Then there’s our bright and wild line, our swimwear line, and our children’s line.”
Arrrrrrrggggghhhhhh! Sydney screamed silently, on the inside, which, bizarrely enough, hurt her head just as much as if she’d let that scream out.
“I should never have been on there when I was drunk,” she blurted. “It was like a drunk dial. Remember those? I- god! Social media is the black vortex of all that is horrible and unholy. It’s a cesspool of self-pity and stupidity and idiocy!”
Jesse cocked a brow, and damn it, even that was sexy. How pathetic was she that she noticed, and that she cared. She was sitting there, hyper aware that she was in his house, just a few feet away. That when she inhaled, she smelled his crisp, spicy, manly scent. That he was gorgeous.
That the last time she’d seen him, he’d taken her virginity and given her the best four orgasms of her life.
Four.
And no, she hadn’t thought about those over the years. No, she hadn’t touched herself to them. No, she’d never picked up a magazine and kept that image of him in her mind until she went to bed. Alone. No, she’d never thought of him in the shower. No, she didn’t remember that he had a big package. Like… big. Seriously big.
No, no, no.
Jesse leaned forward, humor lighting up his beautiful plaid eyes, eyes like the surface of the lake reflecting the sky on a cloudless day. Eyes like… like a Caribbean Sea.
“Why then, if it’s such a cesspool, were you on it? You might have been drunk, but you were sober enough to type that message. Maybe, what you really wanted, deep down, or not so deep down, was exactly what you wrote.”
CHAPTER 7
Jesse
Just when she’d started to relax, he’d gone and pissed her off again. He watched Syd’s eyes narrow into dangerous slits. Her lips thinned out and even angry, she was insanely beautiful. Her skin… damn, her skin was so perfect. Not that it hadn’t always been, but California had been kind to her. She looked good with that permanent tan she had going on.
Good, as in amazing.
Then again, he’d always thought she was amazing. Because she was. Is. Whatever.
“You can’t keep me prisoner here,” she spat. “That thing with your mom isn’t going to work. I know her game.”
He had no choice but to feign innocence. Syd was there and that was more than half the battle. He made a mental note to give Martin a big raise for doing the impossible. He also made a note to thank his mom, as bad as it was, for giving him an ace up his sleeve. He now had a not so secret weapon. Mother tears.
Never to be underestimated, just like mom disappointment.
“What thing?” he asked innocently. “My mom was just incredibly happy to see you. Those tears were completely genuine.” That, at least, was true.
Syd’s eyes narrowed further, even though he didn’t think it was possible. She looked like a pissed off housecat about to tear his face off. Or castrate him. It would probably be a tossup between the two.
“I don’t know what you told her, but this…” she gestured wildly between them, “isn’t a thing. This isn’t a thing. It’s never going to be. It’s never going to work.”
Jesse nodded slowly, like he was really going to actually let her off the hook, even though he had no intention of doing anything close to it. He decided to try another tactic, even if he had to guilt her into it. Once upon a time, in another life, Syd loved his mother. He’d play on that. His father too. She’d been a part of their family.
“Would it really be so bad to try?”
Her head snapped up and her eyes went from narrow little slits to wide as baseball saucers. She blinked at him like a black hole just opened up between them and aliens were springing out wearing funny little hats and screaming they were going to eat her brains.
“Are you kidding me? Would it really be so bad?”
He nodded. “I mean no.” He shook his head quickly. “I don’t think it would be so bad to try. Part of you must have meant and wanted what you wrote. It was pretty loud and clear. Don’t they say that there’s more truth in jest that in truth itself?”
“I don’t think that’s how that goes. Quit trying to quote shit from our English class.”
“I’m just saying. I think there is a lot of what people really mean in jokes. They just try and soften the blow.”
“I didn’t mean it. And that’s not true. Not with me. If I want to say something, I’ll just come out and say it. And I’m saying it now. You can’t send your crazy butler dude to kidnap me. You can’t lock me here. You can’t guilt me into staying. You can’t have your mom stand out on the front lawn and cry crocodile tears. You can’t call the media and tell them that you’re engaged. No, we are not trying. It would be a disaster. I think we both know that already.”
Jesse leaned back, his stomach tightening. It wasn’t the only thing tightening. His happy
stick was doing a happy dance in his pants and he had to rearrange himself again so that it wasn’t glaringly obvious.
“I don’t think we know that at all. We spent one night together. I seem to remember it being really good, but maybe you were just faking it. All four times.”
He watched Syd’s face go completely white. The term, white as a sheet, however clichéd it was, actually worked. She was whiter than sheets. Whiter than freshly bleached and starched sheets. She looked at him like she wanted to claw him or cut him. Still debating between the two options.
“And then you ran,” he had the nerve to add. “So no, I don’t know anything about any of that trying to work stuff and neither do you. The way I see it, is that we could give it a shot. We could always say we decided to break it off before the wedding. My mom would be thrilled. So would my dad. And your mom… she’d do a backflip she’d be so happy.”
Syd jumped off the couch and he was pretty sure she’d finally decided on scratching his face off. Maybe his balls. Kill two birds with one stone.
“No!” She took a step forward and waved a finger at him. “Seriously. No. You do not get to go there. Not with all of our parents.”
“The press would eat it up. Everyone would be so happy for us.”
“They would be insanely jealous of me. They’d crucify me and pick me apart. There’s a difference.”
“So, you’ve thought about it?”
“No! I haven’t thought about it! Are you crazy? This isn’t happening. Now, I’ve done my duty and come here. Do yours and let me go home. Now. Right now.” She stamped her foot for emphasis, and he couldn’t help it.
He laughed.
He hadn’t seen Syd throw a fit since she was nine years old.
Her tantrum was cut short when her phone went off, buzzing loudly in the pocket of her jeans. Her too tight jeans that he tried very hard not to appreciate just like he tried not to notice that her ass was complete and utter perfection in them, outlined like a ripe peach.
Her hand whipped her phone out and she studied the screen for a second before she answered. Jesse could hear the voice drifting out, nearly frantic, but with excitement, not worry.
“Honey! Turn on the TV! There’s a crazy story about you being engaged to Jesse and it must be true because you’re there with him in Philly! Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been secretly dating? All this time?”
“Mom…” Sydney took a steadying breath. “We’re not engaged. Don’t believe the TV. That’s all lies. We were ambushed. We are definitely not engaged. We are not together. Now or ever. We are certainly never going to be married. In fact, I’ve been kidnapped. That’s why I’m here. Jesse had his bastard butler kidnap me and fly me across the country and I’m here in his house because we had to run in here to escape the stupid media and now he’s refusing to let me go back home, so technically, I’ve been kidnapped. You need to call the police not sit there sounding like this is the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“But honey, this is the best thing that happened to me! You never go on any dates and now I know why! I can finally sit back and stop worrying about you! Oh goodness! How romantic. Jesse. You always were so good together. I just know this is going to work out.”
“Mom,” Sydney groaned. “This is not going to work out. Didn’t you hear anything I said?”
“I’m not calling the police. I’m looking at my schedule trying to figure out when I can book off time.”
Sydney’s mouth fell open and she gripped the phone so tight her knuckles turned white. “Time for what?”
“To help you move, of course! And to plan a wedding! Syd, I know you! You’re just trying to downplay all of this because you’re annoyed that I found out all over the TV.”
“I’m seriously not. And I’m not moving.”
“Whatever you say, sweetie. Call me back when you’re settled in. Have fun. I love you.”
The phone clicked off. Sydney held the cell in the air like it was a snake about to strike at her, sink its fangs in deep. She turned and stared at Jesse like he was the poison spreading through her veins.
“What?” he asked sheepishly. “Seriously, if you didn’t want any of this, you shouldn’t have- drunk messaged me online. It’s still up there. I can show you the evidence.”
“No.” Sydney shook her head. She held up a hand, the color leaching from her face. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened.”
“That’s not what you said the last time we were together.”
Syd’s face turned a pretty scarlet. It wasn’t just a bloom above her high cheekbones either. It was a full-on paint that started at her cheeks and spread down her dainty jawline and over the slender column of her neck.
“No! You do not get to bring that up. Ever. Do you hear me, Jesse? Never? This is the worst thing for both of us. We were friends. Were, because that kind of thing- what we did- it should never have happened. Ever. Like seriously, ever. And here we are, freaking with the whole world thinking that we’re engaged. Me. Engaged to you. The kid who I saw piss himself laughing quite a few times when we were kids and at least once when you were drunk when we were in college. You, the kid who barfed up pizza onto my bedroom floor. The kid who woke up in the middle of the night in my bed at a sleepover because he was scared the monsters in my closet were going to eat him. You. The kid who knew all my secrets and could use them against me. We were friends, Jesse. That was it. We made a stupid mistake ten years ago. Seriously. I’ve been paying for it ever since. I’m not going to go there again. No matter how much your mom and apparently my mom, wants it to happen.”
“No?” Jesse frowned, but he looked at Syd, really looked at her, until she got uncomfortable and had to stare at the floor.
Syd. Syd who always looked a person in the eye. Who’d never been afraid of anything. Syd who squared her shoulders and gave her middle finger to the world when shit didn’t go down how she’d planned. Jesus, a lot had changed in ten years. Maybe it all was a mistake. He felt like he didn’t even know her. She didn’t feel like his ex-best friend. She felt like a stranger standing there. A stranger. It was totally unacceptable that he felt that way about her. She wasn’t a stranger. She was never meant to be a stranger. She’d always been the one person in the world he could turn to. Trust. Call up. God, they’d gone through the first two decades of their lives together. He wasn’t giving up on her.
So, he did the one thing he could think of, because if any of the old Syd was left in there, she’d never been able to resist a challenge.
“You’re scared. You meant what you said, but now that you’re here, you’re scared. You liked what happened last time and it scared you so much that you ran with your tail tucked between your legs. You’ve been running from it for ten years and now that it’s staring you in the face, you’re trying to run again. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Syd’s brows knitted together and then flew up so high that they nearly hit her hairline. “And how are you going to stop me?”
Jesse closed the distance in an instant. He didn’t want to give her time to figure out what his game was and formulate any kind of defense against it. He’d never been a very good athlete, but this time, Syd was the one going down.
She stood there frozen, like a deer in the headlights, paralyzed with indecision and shock as he wrapped his arms around her and slammed her up against his chest. She was smaller than he remembered, not frail, but just… just fine boned. Curvy and still womanly, but feminine and dainty. She felt fragile, like he could break her just by existing. Fear glistened in her eyes, but he bent his head anyway and when he slammed his lips to hers, it was pretty damn obvious how he was going to stop her.
CHAPTER 8
Sydney
The kiss. The freaking kiss that was happening to her even as she was thinking about it. Jesse’s mouth. His lips. So soft. Warm. Delicious. He tasted good. Like something sweet, syrup or sugar or waffles with
whipped cream. That kiss turned her inside out, spread a wicked fire up her legs, straight to her lady bits, which were suddenly so frustrated that the throbbing made her want to scream. Her nipples sharpened into tiny little points and her stomach was a tied-up mess that was not at all related to the hangover hell that gripped her hard. Freak, how can freaking tongue touching mine and his teeth nipping at my bottom lip make me want to orgasm?
It took all of her strength- and she was considerably strong from jogging two times a week and doing yoga on weekday mornings in her apartment, to push Jesse away.
She stepped back, panting hard, holding a hand to her vibrating lips. Yes. Vibrating. It felt like someone had clamped her onto a car battery and was pushing down hard on the accelerator, pumping her full of juice.
“W-what the hell was that?” She took a faltering step backward and nearly landed flat on her ass when her foot caught in the expensive looking woven rug.
It wasn’t the only expensive looking thing in the place. Jesse’s house was nice. Seriously nice, from what she’d seen of it, but she was not going to be swayed by that. Or his impressive send my butler to woo and kidnap you for me routine. Or his private jet. Or how he’d bulked up and filled out and, lord, looked like he could bench press her and eat her for breakfast. Frick. She was not going to think about that. About him eating her in any capacity. Shit. She was not looking down and noticing the way his dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves to reveal bronzed, veiny forearms, legit every single woman’s ultimate weakness. She was not dropping her eyes lower, to his expensive slacks and the bulge that was straining at the front of them.
Oh my god. Her ladybits were definitely not trembling, begging- whatever- for any of that bulge. Above all, she did not with a capital D, remember what that bulge felt like inside of her.
Okay, maybe she did remember just a little.