Beautifully Awake

by Riley Mackenzie

  “C, since we’re here. You mind running into the office real quick and signing the final copies of the paperwork for the real estate transaction in Wrangel?”

  “Wrangel?” I questioned. Chase shot Asher lethal eye daggers. “What’s in Wrangel?”

  No sooner had the words left my mouth, it freaking hit me—my conversation with my dad. Fuck-face’s family restaurant closed because the strip mall was bought and being renovated. It was way too coincidental. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to jump into his arms and thank him or be pissed. I stewed on my emotions several seconds too long.

  He hugged me tight to his chest. Intensity brewed. “You think I’m going to let you in a less than three hundred mile radius of that selfish fuck? Don’t think that I haven’t mapped out how many miles it is from Philly to Wrangel. And when you want to visit your dad and Sharon, when you want to go home, now you can ... anytime you want, and I can breathe easy.”

  I almost smiled. Almost.

  Something surged inside me, wanting to bubble over. An emotion, a calm. I couldn’t describe it. I just knew I needed to remember this feeling.

  “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips. From the bottom of my heart that you pieced back together. “I love you.” I really, really did.

  “Well, thank fuck. I was sure my ass was fucking toast.” Asher dramatically wiped his brow, and I laughed at his theatrics. Not that he was too far off.

  I turned back to face Chase. “I wish you had told me though.”

  He paused for a second, choosing his words carefully. “And if I told you, what would you have said? Baby, you gave me a hard time over a pair of fucking shoes. You’re telling me you would have been fine with me buying half of Main Street? Come on, Blue, truth.”

  Okay. Definitely not. He unexpectedly looked away, breaking our eye contact. He looked ... embarrassed.

  “Besides, we weren’t really speaking at the time.”

  Ouch. Even though we were so far beyond it, I didn’t want to rehash my heartache the weeks Chase turned his back on me when I needed him the most. The weeks he physically tortured himself drowning in his own darkness. I had been so wrong, about a lot of things.

  “You’re right.” Truth. “Just promise me next time you feel like doing something crazy you talk to me first.”

  “Crazy? Baby, you should thank Ash here for talking me off the ledge of crazy. Buying a fucking strip mall sure as shit wasn’t my first choice and isn’t even close to crazy enough in my book, but it gets the job done.” He was dead serious.

  Asher seconded the notion with a mix of relief and you-don’t-want-to-know written all over his face. Yeah, I didn’t want to know.

  “Okay.” That’s all I said. I would walk through fire for this man. How could I fault him for wanting to do the same for me?

  He drew me into a deep, lengthy kiss, only to release me to murmur against my lips, “Love you, Blue.”

  I was anything but pissed. I was grateful he had eliminated the only reason I hated my hometown in a blink of an eye. He kept his promise, that bastard was never going to hurt me again.

  “Shit, I need to find myself a woman” was all we heard before we watched Asher striding down the hall. “Later! Meet you at my apartment,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Try to keep the porn to a minimum. Last thing I need is to clean up that mess all fucking week.” We both laughed out loud. “And sign the damn paperwork so I can stop chasing your ass down.”

  “Wine, beer ... what can I get you, Lil?” Asher asked.

  Asher’s high-rise penthouse apartment was in the center of Boston, showcasing panoramic views from each room. The modern simplicity of the designer space flowed seamlessly. Perfect for entertaining, of which I was sure Asher did his fair share. The black hardwood floor and streamlined furniture was sleek, yet inviting. The masculinity of the sparse dark accents and the enormous billiard table sitting under a modern chandelier, which I only assumed was supposed to be the dining room, screamed bachelor pad.

  “Wine. Thanks, Ash.”

  Asher left for the kitchen and I strolled up to the window to enjoy the city lights.

  Chase snaked his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. “Whatcha thinking ’bout, beautiful?”

  “Just how lucky I am.” On so many different levels. The most superficial was standing in yet another living room, enjoying the million dollar views of yet another spectacular city. And on the deepest level, how this man loved me so unconditionally.

  “You know I love you more than anything, Blue.”

  “I know.” Because I did. We had spent the afternoon wandering through the cobblestone alleys of Boston. Girl coffee in one hand; Chase’s warm fingers entwined with mine in the other. Life was nearly perfect. And several designer shops later, my niece-to-be as inspiration, I decided on an amazing Gucci soft stirrup pink tan python shoulder bag to replace my oversized luggage. And Chase insisted on a bag for Sierra. So I chose the dark pink nylon Guccissima diaper bag. Sierra was going to flip. And I was pretty sure the deep freeze would officially be over.

  Asher came back and handed me a glass of red wine.

  “Thanks, Ash, your view is fantastic.”

  Asher opened the terrace door. “Thanks, come see the best part. It’s a gorgeous night.”

  “You guys go. I’m gonna hop in the shower before dinner.” Chase kissed my cheek and walked toward the bedrooms, while Asher and I walked outside. It was warm, a little muggy and not much of a breeze. Typical for August.

  “You like Boston?” I asked.

  “Yeah, came here after college for law school, and you know...” He didn’t need to finish his sentence; I got it. That was only a year after Kimi died. Chase was in Boston and had two years of med school to finish. Alone. “Anyway, kind of got sucked in ... being a finance lawyer in a city like Boston is the place to be. Besides, gotta keep an eye on Chase’s investments, while, you know, he plays doctor and all.” We laughed..

  “Seems like the company does well.” I sipped my pinot noir. Not that I cared if it filed chapter eleven. If Chase were bankrupt, I’d probably love him even more. No question.

  “Yeah, well, your guy worked his fucking ass off to be where he is today. On top of being a world-class neurosurgeon, he redefines entrepreneur and real estate mogul without jack shit from his parents. Did you know he went to college and med school on a full academic scholarship? Fucking sick.” Ash swigged his beer.

  “What do you mean? I just assumed he had some kind of trust or something.”

  Asher lounged back in his teak chaise. “He did. From his grandparents. But couldn’t touch it until he turned twenty-one. Inherited Kim’s too, all of it. Donated her entire trust, every fucking penny, and then he spent most of his taking care of her after he moved her from that shithole. Twenty-four hour, state of the art care. Flew in every fucking specialist and expert. Sadly, pretty much too late by then, not sure it made a difference. She died shortly after. His parents fucking suck, never paid one goddamn doctor bill.” He sat up and straddled the lounge chair. “Thought it was a waste. Said she was practically dead anyway, why waste good money. Sweet, right? That’s how she wound up in Boston in the first place. That shithole took any charity case to get a fucking tax break.”

  A vice strangled my gut. Chase said his parents left her to rot, but I thought they just never visited her.

  Asher must have seen the horror on my face. There was no hiding it. “Yeah.” He shook his head, obviously agreeing with my all-time low opinion of Chase’s parents.

  I wasn’t the biggest fan when I met them, now I pretty much hated them.

  He took another swig, probably to soothe the burn. “You should have seen how pissed his parents were when Chase used the money he had left to finance his research. We’re talking epic meltdown. They’re so fucking greedy—they went off the rails. That was pretty much the final straw. Chase was done. Been done ever since. A few years after Kimi died and his company started to take off, it all came out ... his parents
went under.”

  “Went under?” His parents gave off the vibe that they were rolling in money.

  “First they lost the Hamptons house, almost lost the Park Avenue penthouse too, a fucking Ponzi scheme.” He stood up and started pacing.

  I had seen that testosterone time bomb before. No wonder Chase and Ash were so close. Asher looked angry.

  “Your guy bailed them out, paid off the penthouse mortgage, gave Pete a job. Then basically told them to go fuck themselves. Now they live fucking scot-free in that mausoleum.”

  Of course he had. As much as my guy thought he was selfish, he was the one who was selfless. My stomach sank, my appetite gone. I sat down on the loveseat and rested my heavy head against the back.

  “Pete?” I asked.

  “Yeah. He was the family driver for years, hell, when we were kids. Man, he took Kimi’s death worse than her own parents. When everything went down, Chase made sure Pete was set financially, but the guy refused, wouldn’t accept a dime he didn’t work for. Needless to say, twenty-five years from now your man will probably be driving Pete’s ass around, soothing his pride with some other made up job.” That explained a lot.

  “See why he can’t stand visiting his parents, even on their birthday? Dickhead really only shows up when he has to, mostly to appease me, and in return, my parents. To this day, can’t understand why they’re friends. Whatever.” Asher finished his beer.

  The French door creaked open before I said anything, not that I had anything to say right at that moment. Chase sauntered outside, wearing low-slung sweats and a fitted white tee. His hair was wet from his shower. He looked relaxed and beautiful. I made a conscious effort to table whatever I felt about what Asher shared. Chase deserved a carefree night with the two people who cared the most about him. And I was going to give it to him.

  “Dick, why does my girl look like her puppy died? What else did you lay on the table for her in the five minutes I was gone?”

  Shit. My poker face sucked. Again. The last thing I wanted was Chase to be upset with Asher. I sat forward to explain, but Chase beat me to it.

  “Ash man, you’re like a schoolgirl. You can’t help yourself. Fucking diarrhea of the mouth.” Chase grinned, and relief washed over me. He gave us an out. Chase wasn’t stupid. So far from it—it was scary. Just like the day in his parents’ apartment, he knew he walked in on a conversation he’d rather not be part of, a conversation he probably wished never happened. But unlike that day in their study, there were no more secrets between us. Last time he feigned ignorance, this time he chose to lighten the mood. And I was grateful.

  “Whatever, asshole. What are ya drinking?” Asher was unfazed by Chase. The way old friends should be.

  “I’ll take a beer. And while your lazy ass is up, Blue could use a refill.”

  Asher didn’t blink at Chase’s nickname for me. Hell, I didn’t blink anymore. I freaking loved it.

  Chase sat right next to me, angling my legs over his thighs, forcing my body to relax against the couch armrest. He smelled clean, a mix of soap and deodorant. A mix of ocean and citrus. Delicious. My senses were spoiled. Never would I tire of his smell. Ever.

  Chase’s magic fingers went to town massaging my bare feet. His warm touch relieved my tension—from witnessing his mixed emotions about visiting Boston, finding out he had parents that sucked in every way that counted—to learning that the man I loved chased fuck-face out of Wrangel to give me back my home. None of it mattered. Not right now, at least. Right now, we both needed a little normalcy.

  Asher tossed Chase a beer and topped off my glass, before collapsing back onto his lounger. “What do you guys feel like eating, what should we order?”

  “Sushi?”

  “You and the fucking sushi, C. You ever eat anything else, man?” Asher’s expression was priceless. Effing priceless.

  Maybe it was the foot massage, or the alcohol, or maybe the weeks of pent-up anxiety, who knew? But there was no holding back. None. I spit my wine halfway across the terrace laughing. I belly laughed so hard my cheeks burned.

  Chase and Asher ping-ponged a who-brought-the-cool-kid look, making me laugh even harder. My sides stabbed. I had no clue the last time I laughed this hard, really laughed. How sad was that? Good thing I went to the bathroom when we first got back to the apartment, or instead of the inevitable two-drop dribble that always snuck out before you remembered to clamp your thighs together in the mother of all Kegels, I might have pissed my pants. Sandwiched between two of the most handsome men I’d ever met, the thought of peeing my pants made me roar. Talk about a tension release ... weeks in the making.

  “You’re a hoot, Lil,” Asher chirped out, in between dragging on his beer and shaking his head in amusement.

  “A hoot? You fucking pansy. You’ve been living in Boston way too long. Who says that? You should meet Lil’s friend. Don’t know what’s worse, turd or hoot. What do you think, baby?” Chase rubbed my leg and let out a deep chuckle. Yeah, he needed the release too. Damn, it felt good to laugh.

  “You two are fucking straaange. I’m getting another beer, then I’m ordering Chinese!”

  Asher left the terrace and stalked toward the kitchen, making Chase laugh harder. I freaking loved his laugh. I loved him. I loved this. Period.

  I fingered the tears from under my eyes. Happy tears. Fun tears.

  “You good, Blue?” He might have stopped laughing, but his eyes remained relaxed. Hopeful.

  “Yeah ... I’m good.” We’re good.

  Chase was quiet for a second, but not in a brooding or mysterious way. His fiery gaze locked on mine. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Part of me wished he would lean over already and kiss me so I could show him just how good we were. Scratch that, all of me…

  “Truth, baby ... I fucking hate Chinese food.”

  Yep. Definitely pissed my pants this time.

  Two six packs, half a bottle of pinot noir and a shitload of Moo Shu chicken later, we finally said goodnight to Ash. The three of us had a really great night.

  “This was really fun. Asher’s awesome. I’m glad you have him.” I stared at his reflection in the mirror while he brushed his teeth. Shirtless. Mmm. My hands magnetically found their way around his waist, appreciating every hard ‘pack’ of his eight, not six- pack, until they settled on my favorite spot. Those damn V’s that dipped below the waistband of his sweatpants were my undoing. Every time. Note to self, sweats freaking rocked. Gave those low-rise linen pants a run for their money.

  He rinsed and spit, then wiped his chiseled jaw with the hand towel. The entire time his hooded stare never wavered, cranking my internal furnace up ten degrees. A pool of heat flooded between my legs.

  His voice was low. “First, you’re right, tonight was awesome. We definitely needed it. Second, though, doesn’t matter that he’s my best friend and I trust him with your life. You’ve got to know, the next time you’re looking at me like that, eye fucking me, baby, and you mention another man, be ready not to sleep. It will take at least a few days of hearing you scream my name while I’m making you come, for me to get over it.”

  Ever heard of catching flies? My mouth fell open wide enough to catch a swarm. Feminists around the world would have been stroking out right now. Full-out brain bleeds. Until I met Chase, the thought of anyone talking to me like that repulsed me. He used “eye fucking” in a sentence, for god’s sake, and I liked it. Freaking loved it. The thought of anyone but Chase ever talking dirty, hell, ever touching me, repulsed me now.

  Truth ... I loved how dominant Chase was in the bedroom. I never felt safer than I did in his strong arms. He was the most generous lover. Bossy as all hell, but he made me feel cherished and respected. Ironically, trusting him enough to take the lead gave me back my control. I felt sexy and alive when we were together ... less damaged.

  Now was no exception. I tried to stay focused on those sexy greys melting a hole in my core, but my eyes darted to the growing erection stretching against his sweats instead. />
  Chase turned around and tucked my hair behind my ear. He leaned against the vanity. “See something you want?”

  “Um?” I sucked at dirty talk. Those delicious butterflies that start in your stomach and work their way down, way down, were fluttering in circles. My insides were humming. Just the sound of his voice was like a triple shot of espresso to my sex. The rhythmic throbbing gave my heartbeat a run for its money.

  “Touch me, Blue. Take what you want, baby. Take what’s yours.”

  Mine. All mine.

  All coherent thought went out the window. Thinking, period went out the window. Chase looked at me like a starved lion looking for his next meal. He covered my hands with his and dipped them below his waistband. The heat pulsing from his groin only enticed me to explore further.

  “Mmm” escaped from my lips. I slid his sweats down his thighs, freeing his thick erection. I was salivating. Now who was the animal?

  He wrapped his fingers around his hard shaft and squeezed. My mouth went dry; any and all moisture drenched my thong. “My girl likes to watch?” He stroked his cock, with more force than I ever imagined using. It was the hottest moment. Ever.

  “Take off your clothes baby. Naked, now.” Chase fisted his hard length. The arousal in his eyes stole my breath; my sex throbbed. Throbbed. Holy freaking spasms. I could have come from just watching.

  Chase growled, “Now. Clothes off, Blue.”

  My frenzied state must have caused a motor delay from my brain, because I was still dressed. When my paralysis finally subsided, I stripped in record time. My clothes fell to a heap on the bathroom floor allowing Chase to roam my flushed body. My nipples peaked. They could have cut glass. Literally. They screamed for his warm tongue. I was completely bare and aroused in the middle of a well-lit bathroom, gawking at my hotter-than-hell boyfriend masturbating. I should have been embarrassed. But it was the furthest thing from my mind. Turned on was the understatement-of-the-year.