“You know perfectly well that it’s going in the collection.” I toss my nose in the air.
I have every traditional outfit, souvenir t-shirt, and piece of headwear we’ve ever bought on the Bailey Family Adventures, going all the way back to fourth grade. There’s a whole section of closet dedicated to them. I have no doubt that Noah thinks the German getup is pretty hot, if someone else were wearing it, that is. Someone with curves. Someone closer to six feet tall than five. Someone that’s not his platonic bestie.
“Speaking of things you brought home, did you bring me something, Elle? I mean, if I abandoned you for ten days without so much as a text message or phone call, I would definitely bring you back something special.” He narrows his eyes, and I smile.
“Oh, honey. Did I bring you back something? Did I ever!” I grin and walk over to my suitcases, wheeling the smaller of the two back toward the sofa. I squat down, unzip it, and turn to Noah. “Close your eyes, and lean back.” I wriggle my eyebrows, and he cocks his head, suspiciously.
My eyes narrow as I put my palm flat against the top of the suitcase, a gesture that threatens to keep the contents locked away. He shrugs, leans back, and closes his eyes, his perfect lips turning up at one corner in anticipation. I retrieve a double-sized, reusable grocery bag from the suitcase, and walk over to the sofa.
“Keep them shut tight, or else.” My warning is playful.
I walk over and stand in front of him, positioning myself between his knees. If he sat upright, I swear, we would be nearly the same height. “Keep your eyes shut, and hold your arms out.” He eagerly complies.
I grab the bottom edge of the bag, and turn it up, emptying dozens of bags of gummy candy out onto his lap. He opens his blue eyes wide, laughing.
“Holy shit!” He exclaims as the last of the packages spills out, off the edges of his lap, and onto the sofa around him. “This is amazing! You are the best.”
He leans forward, putting his arms around my waist, and pulls me down beside him so I’m laying back on the sofa. My heart is thumping like an off-balance washing machine. Pinning me down, he grabs one of the bags of sour fruit gummies and pulls it open, taking a huge piece of candy from it, and holding it against my mouth.
“Try one!” He laughs.
“No way, those things are gross!” I argue, and pinch my lips together tightly.
“Come on, Elle! They’re awesome. Trust me. Just try a little taste.” He coaxes.
“Mm-nn,” I make the no sound while shaking my head back and forth, lips glued shut.
“Just try it. A tiny little taste. You’ll like it. Don’t you trust me?” He asks, cocking up an eyebrow.
I roll my eyes. Damnit. I do trust him. I trust him with everything except the one thing he has no idea he owns—my heart.
I let out a breath and relax my lips, and he places the giant peach slice between them so its hanging out of my mouth. I hold it with my lips and run my tongue along it. It’s sharp and sour and I’m not such a fan. I scowl and pout a little, my bottom lip jutting out making the candy bounce up and point toward Noah.
He laughs hard. “So I take it that’s a no?”
I shake my head up and down. He leans forward his face so close to mine, we could kiss. For a reckless, confusing, pathetically hopeful moment, I wonder if we’re going to. He opens his mouth, and leans down, grabbing the candy from my lips with his. As he takes it, he uses the tip of his tongue to hold the slice against his lips. His tongue just grazes my bottom lip before he sucks the candy into his mouth. He sits up, grabbing my hand to pull me up beside him.
“So fucking good.” He closes his eyes and rocks his head back and forth as he chews. “These taste so fresh it’s like they were made yesterday.”
“They probably were made this week,” I eke out the reply, grabbing my soda and taking a gulp to soothe my suddenly parched throat. “I made my parents stop at the factory story so I could load up.”
“You did that for me?” The expression on his face is so incongruous with everything else about him. This tall, broad-shouldered, crushingly handsome man is looking at me with the sweet expression of a little kid who just got the best surprise ever, and it makes my heart melt.
“Of course I did. I mean, we were right there, and you’re my best dude.” I wink at him, my heart trying to return to its normal pace. I’m starting to feel normal again, except for the tiny spot of seared flesh just below my bottom lip where Noah’s tongue has been. That spot will never, ever heal. Having Noah’s tongue on me is something from which I will never recover.
“You’re amazing. Thank you.” He smiles broadly at me.
“So I guess work was pretty boring without me, huh. You really did miss me?”
“Elle, you have no idea.” His eyes narrow and his lips curl up into a smirk.
Chapter 2
I walk into my apartment and put down the bag containing a dozen or so packs of gummies onto the spotless kitchen counter. I smile thinking of how many bags Elle brought back for me. She is the best. Really.
I can’t believe she almost caught me, though. I thought I’d hang out at her place to surprise her and wait for her to come home. It’s been a long-ass ten days without her, that’s for damn sure. Her place was a mess, like usual, so I thought I’d do something nice and clean it up for her. When I started putting her clothes away, I was putting her bras and panties in the drawer, and I started thinking about what she would look like in them, especially that lacy light blue set that was shoved into the corner of the drawer when I opened it.
Of course that led to me thinking about pulling them off of her, and burying my face between her thighs. I couldn’t let her come home to find me in her apartment, alone, with a raging hard-on. So, I decided to take a shower and take matters into my own hands.
I imagined her coming home and confessing that she realizes she’s in love with me, and how she could hardly wait to show me how much she missed me. I imagined my mouth on her skin, that tight, muscular little body of hers wrapped around me as I fuck her like I’ve wanted to for so long. I squirted some of that fruity conditioner she uses into the palm of my hand, and shut my eyes tightly, stroking one out to the images of her that played in my mind. It didn’t take long for me to find a release.
I’m not proud of it, okay? She’s my friend. My best friend. The problem is, lately, especially since she’s been gone, I’ve realized… that’s just not enough anymore.
I pick up a bag of sour gummy bears and walk back to the living room. I kick back on the plush, blue sofa, the one Elle insisted I buy instead of the sturdy gray one I had chosen, and open my phone. I reply to my buddy Charlie saying I won’t be going in with him and the rest of his crew on season tickets for football this year. I’ve got that money earmarked for far more important things. I also see a new message from Cassandra in my inbox and smile. We’ve been emailing back and forth the last few weeks. As soon as I told her what I wanted, she was on board—excited, even, to help me make it happen.
It’s just a little after five, so I give her a call. She agrees to meet me, and an hour later, I pull into the parking lot of Haberdish, one of the most popular restaurants in our NoDa neighborhood. The pretty blonde who’s about ten years older than me, is seated at a large booth in the back of the restaurant. She smiles and waves when she sees me walk in.
“I’m glad you called, Noah. When we talked last time, you didn’t seem too sure. I’m glad you came around." Cassandra flashes a coy grin.
I sit down across from her. “I knew I wanted to do it, I just…well, it’s a big decision.”
“So, you said this is your first time?” The words leave Cassandra’s lips just as the waitress walks up to take our order. The girl looks from Cassandra to me and blushes wildly as she tries to contain a grin while taking our order for drinks and an appetizer.
“Yeah, this is my first. When I was a kid, we moved around a lot with my Dad’s work. From junior high through high school I never started and finished at the
same school two years in a row.” My shoulders tense and I gulp down a sip of my water.
“Sounds like that made it tough to put down roots.” Her lips purse and her brows furrow a little.
She’s right. Nobody wants to get close to the guy who’s going to be here today and gone tomorrow. Maybe that’s why I appreciate what I have with Elle as much as I do. She’s solid—steady. She’s the person that I know, above everyone else in the world, that I can truly count on.
“Well, I think I’ve got a proposal you’ll like. Let’s make this happen.” She turns the folder on the table around to face me and opens it.
The address of the property is listed on top of the page. It’s a house Elle and I have driven past a hundred times before. Cassandra explains all the terms and goes over the details of the offer before I sign the paper. It’s no wonder she’s one of the most popular realtors in Charlotte. She knows her stuff. I just hope that her experience will lead to the sellers accepting the offer.
After Cassandra drafts the offer on the house I know Elle will love, I head home but I’m too keyed up to sleep, so I grab the remote and flip the TV on to an episode of the X-files.
I’ve dated my fair share of women—girls who could easily be models, but who were unattractive because of their personalities, or lack of intelligence. I’ve dated women who were what some guys might consider average looking, but who blew me away with their kindness, brilliance, or sense of humor, and that made them sexy as hell.
One thing I’m certain of is that finding a woman who is gorgeous, intelligent, funny, doesn’t take herself too seriously, and has a kind heart, is nearly impossible. It’s like finding a unicorn in the middle of an island full of mermaids while standing on a hill made up of all the gold from the lost city of Atlantis. Well, I happen to be the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet, because I have found exactly that. My personal unicorn is named Ariel Bailey, but she answers to Elle.
Unfortunately, she has moved me so far into the friend zone that I’m getting mail there. Noah Adler, Friendzone, USA.
I pick up the bag of candy from the coffee table, and throw a couple of red sour gummy bears in my mouth, the gelatinous centers growing soft and sticky against my teeth as I chew through the sugary, tart exterior. When I was little, my friends always liked chocolate or sugary candy. I always liked the sour stuff. See, I knew, once I got through the tart exterior, the inside would be even sweeter. Kind of like Elle, in a way. She acts like she has this hard edge, always a little outwardly sour, but inside? Inside, that girl is pure sugar. She’s sweet, delicious perfection.
She has long, thick, auburn hair, the biggest, most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen, framed by thick, dark lashes. Her lips are full and pink, and her smile is so bright that I swear to God her teeth must glow in the dark. Across her cheeks are a spattering of freckles. Twenty-six, to be exact. I know this because I’ve counted them a hundred times. She has narrow shoulders and a slim little frame, but she’s strong as an ox. I’m convinced she must have superpowers because the density of those tiny muscles of hers could not possibly be explained by science.
The night she came over after the asshole broke up with her, as she laid there, my arms wrapped tight around her and I explained to her how beautiful she is…how amazing she is, and how sorry I feel for the asshole who can’t see it, the realization washed over me like a tsunami. The idea was so complete and overwhelming and obvious that I could drown in it, and I still can’t believe it never dawned on me before.
I love her.
I’ve told her this a million times in the best friend, love ya—mean it, kind of way, but in that moment it hit me. I really love her. I never want to see her with another man, and I never want another person or thing on the planet to make her cry. I just want to hold her and protect her and love her forever and never let her go.
She still sees me as a player, though—that guy who’s here today, gone tomorrow. The guy I’ve always been up until now. So of course, I didn’t tell her any of that.
I still haven’t.
But I’m going to.
Earlier tonight, when Elle dumped out the candy on my lap, I thought, for the briefest moment, that maybe she was my present. I imagined her mouth on mine, and my hands all over that glorious little compact body of hers, the one I saw so much of when she walked into her bedroom almost naked.
Jesus, that was almost more than I could take.
I was naked, and I mean bare-ass-to-the-world naked, when she walked in wearing just a bra and panties. I was so happy to see her, I just rushed over to her, but at the same time, I was repeating a boner-killer mantra in my head.
Grandmas with suntanned leather skin. Mouse traps. Paper cuts and lemon juice. 3.14159265359…
So, yeah, I’m in love with my best friend, apparently. I have no idea how she’s going to feel about that. I mean, she loves me, I know that, but I don’t know if she loves me the way I love her, or if, as I fear, she has platonic, more fraternal feelings toward me.
Fuck I hope that’s not true.
So I have to come up with a way to figure it out, and quick. I mean, she’s not dating anyone right now, and her taste in guys is notoriously terrible. Still, she’s a goddess, and eventually somebody besides me, somebody who’s not a complete asshole, is going to see it. Then, I’m going to lose her forever. When that happens, the whole world will implode, leaving a gaping black hole of mayhem that eats the universe, and it will be my fault because I was too chickenshit to tell a girl I like her, like her.
I tuck my arms behind my head and lay back on the sofa, considering how to go about things. I need to get Elle to see past us as just friends. I need to get her to see the possibility of more, because more is exactly what I want. I want it all. I want her heart. I want to own every gasp, every moan, every scream she utters. I want to own every orgasm and make sure the only name on her lips is mine. I want to make her laugh, and make her feel safe. I want the house and the kids and the dog, and the whole damn thing.
It’s a gamble. If I win, I get all of her, and that’s everything to me. If I lose, though, I’ll lose her forever. If that happens, I don’t know how I’ll ever live without her. Like Cassandra said earlier, it’s tough to build anything with a temporary guy. I don’t plan on being that guy anymore, though. I’m going to show her I’m serious about putting down roots—about what’s between us being my forever.
I know what she’ll say. She’ll say a fling would ruin our friendship. I’m not after a fling, though. I want much more than that. Besides, romance won’t ruin our platonic friendship. It’s our friendship that’s ruining our romance.
Now, I just have to convince her of that.
Chapter 3
I get to the office a little early on Monday to deal with the fourteen million, six hundred thousand, two hundred and four email messages waiting for me after vacation. My brain is still on German time, and I didn’t sleep much last night. I did try to go to sleep after Noah left, but my bedroom was the scene of the crime, after all. It’s where I saw him dripping wet and naked. The perfect curve of his ass, his broad shoulders, and those little V-shaped lines…I don’t know what they’re called but they make smart girls stupid and his reduce my IQ by about fifty points. So, yeah, thinking about that as I tried to go to sleep just ended with me needing another shower.
I work for the vice president of marketing at Summit Apparel. Noah works for the vice president of sales. Sometimes our work overlaps, but mostly it only intersects when there are team-wide meetings or special projects. One of the email messages in my inbox, though, is a message from my boss sent on Friday afternoon asking me to provide support for Noah for the upcoming outdoor conference in Las Vegas.
Fantastic.
I get to run the project for Noah so he can run off to Vegas. Sin city. A place that’s teaming with tall, curvy, gorgeous women. Noah right in the middle of it all with his chiseled jaw, cut glass cheekbones, eyes the color of a Caribbean sea, and deliciously lick-able abs
.
I might have a problem.
Might? Okay, that’s the understatement of the year.
Noah hasn’t gotten to the office yet. It’s after eight and he’s never late. He didn’t even text me this morning, and there is no coffee on my desk. I lean over to pull my phone out of my bag, and when I look up, my doorway is filled with his broad frame.
“Morning, sunshine.” A wide smile is plastered across his handsome face.
Morning people. Sheesh.
“Is that for me?” I point to the cups of coffee he holds in both hands, and the pastry bag he’s grasping.
“Who else would it be for?” He arches an eyebrow as he walks in and sits across from my desk. He slides a stack of folders and notebooks aside to make room, then places the coffee and pastry bag before me. He’s wearing jeans that fit like they were designed specifically to magically highlight his perfect ass and a pale blue button-down that makes his blue eyes turn a deep sapphire.
He leans back, crossing his ankle over his knee, and takes a long sip of his own coffee. “Did you get the email from McMasters about the conference?”
I heave an exaggerated sigh. “I did. So, I guess I get to handle all the project details and you get to go have all the fun, huh?” I furrow my brow at him playfully, but in truth, I hate that I just got back and he’s about to head out for a week-long business trip without me.
“You are handling the project, absolutely. I thought we could use a couple of contractors to man the booth to cut down on costs. John will get you the names of some options on the ground in Vegas. Sherpa Central has a big store there. I’m betting some of their staff would love the chance to rep for us in exchange for some gear.” His lips are starting to curl up at the sides.
Noah has a number of tells. I can tell when he’s lying, when he’s more interested in something than he lets on, and when he’s messing with me. That smirk is the one that tells me he’s messing with me about something.
Vote Then Read: Volume III Page 147