by Kelsie Rae
“I don’t know,” she cries with another sniffle.
Chuckling, I admit, “Want to know something funny?”
She nods against me, but I can still feel the moisture from her tears sinking into my T-shirt.
“I always hated criers.” I laugh a little harder. “I thought they were doing it just to get attention and shit.”
“I’m not––”
“I know. And that’s why it’s so funny.” Rubbing my hand against her threadbare T-shirt that swallows her whole, I continue. “You’re one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met, and I kind of love that about you.”
She freezes when she recognizes the four-letter word, but what’s really weird is that I don’t rush to correct myself. Besides, I didn’t say I loved her. I said I loved something about her. There’s a difference. But even as I justify my comment, a tiny voice in the back of my head still argues, Yeah, but you’ve never said it in that context to a girl you barely know, either.
And I don’t regret it in the slightest.
“Well…,” she mutters, her voice trailing off. “I’m, uh…I’m glad that you can still find me appealing after seeing me like this.”
“Like what? Vulnerable? Sick? A hobo?”
Smacking me against my chest, she scowls up at me. “Hey! That’s not very nice!”
“I’m kidding. And I definitely still find you appealing. So much so, that if I weren’t afraid that you might be contagious, I might even prove it to you.”
“I’m sure you’d love that,” she teases. “Always a sucker for brownie batter, right, Gage?”
I know she’s joking, but it doesn’t take away the sting of truth.
“Who doesn’t love brownie batter,” I mutter sarcastically.
Sensing my deflated attitude, she adds, “Exactly. I know what the deal is. I know what I agreed to, so don’t worry about me catching feelings or anything.”
That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? I think I’m starting to.
I shift on the mattress to get a little more comfortable but don’t respond.
“I don’t think it’s the flu,” she mentions as the silence grows more uncomfortable around us. “I’m feeling a lot better after finally getting some sleep, and I think I got all the bad brownie out of me last night. I’ll probably be right as rain after a shower.”
“A shower is a good idea. Do you feel good enough to try to eat something too? See if you can keep it down?”
Stomach rumbling, she smiles. “Yeah. Food actually sounds really good now.”
The banana is still resting on the nightstand, so I grab it and offer it to her. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
When she catches me staring at her mouth as she wraps her lips around it, I tear my gaze away.
“So uh…brownies, eh?”
She groans. “Don’t remind me.”
“When did you get brownies, anyway?”
“I, uh…after the public therapy session, I hunted down Gem, and we had a little chat. There was a dessert buffet, so I grabbed some on my way out. Who knew they would’ve been so lethal, right?”
“One little brownie knocked you on your ass?”
She takes another giant bite of banana while shifting her gaze from me to the rest of the room, then back at me like she can’t decide where to look.
“Technically, it was like”––she does the math in her head––“four.”
I chuckle. “Four. Good to know. Do you mind if I ask what you and Gem talked about?”
With a one-shouldered shrug, an uncomfortable Nora swallows the lump of fruit. “Just that she owes me for making us go through that mess.”
“I’m actually kind of glad we got conned into that,” I admit, surprising both of us.
Her eyes widen before she sets the banana peel on the nightstand. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I replay a few of the highlights in my head before her warm touch on my forearm brings me back to the present. “Although I’m a little offended you felt the need to run in the opposite direction as soon as it was over.”
“I’m sorry. My emotions were pretty much overflowing, and I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea or anything. Like I said, I know what you signed up for, and I don’t want you to think I was trying to do a bait and switch.”
“I know you wouldn’t do that, Nora.”
She scans my face before nodding in relief. “Okay, good. I would hate for you to think that I’d try to trick a guy into dating me for real or anything.”
“I trust you. Besides, Cancers aren’t known for being sneaky,” I quip.
“Is that right?”
Shrugging, I admit, “I actually have no idea. Are they?”
She laughs. “I have no idea, either. I’m still reeling from the fact that you just admitted you were glad Gem conned us into participating in the workshop. You were a great sport for opening up and everything, but….”
She doesn’t finish her sentence, so I do it for her. “But it’s not like I want anything other than brownie batter, so why waste my time looking into my past in hopes of creating a real relationship in my future?”
Her button nose scrunches up in shame, but she doesn’t deny the truth. That’s exactly what she’s wondering. Then again, I’ve been asking myself the same question ever since last night, and I haven’t been able to pinpoint an answer, so I don’t blame her for being curious.
“I think it was good to analyze my history from a different perspective,” I admit. “It also made me really think about what I want in life, and then with you winding up sick…. I dunno. I think it might be nice to have someone to rely on. That being said, I still think brownie batter is pretty satisfying, and sometimes, you have to sneak a taste before cracking some eggs with a stranger.”
She laughs. “Cracking some eggs?”
“I meant the emotional stuff,” I clarify with a grin.
“I know what you meant. And I agree. I’m always drowning in my emotions. I wish I could turn them off every once in a while instead of worrying about what comes next or how it makes me feel. I wish I could just…live in the moment for once, ya know?”
“Having emotions isn’t a bad thing.”
“It can be if you think you’ve signed up for no strings attached, but your emotions seem to sneak past your defenses, anyway,” she challenges. “Dr. Lorringer was right. I’m such an emotional person that I can’t disconnect and go for the lust alone, ya know? So instead, I inadvertently toss a whole egg into the batter without cracking it during the big ‘o’, which ruins the brownie batter experience because a bunch of shells get thrown into the mix no matter how hard I try to keep them out of it. Then I’m left wondering why it tasted like crap.” My heart is pounding, but I don’t interrupt her, so she continues. “Just like how she helped you look at your own experience from a different perspective, she helped me realize that I can’t not be all in. But I’m also terrified to open up to someone which leaves me”––she laughs, and the sound is enough to lighten the mood––“very sexually frustrated.”
Reaching forward, I brush aside a few stray hairs that were clinging to her forehead.
“Want to know a secret?” I whisper.
“What’s that?”
“I think you’ve poked a few holes in my shell too. I would give anything to scratch that itch for you, but I think you’re right. It’s not just watered-down batter with us. I think a little egg white has slipped in too. Don’t get me wrong,” I add after a soft gasp escapes her. “I’m not saying we should add the yolk or bake the brownies or anything. I’m just saying that I like you, Nora. And if we decided to sneak a little batter, I think it would taste pretty good.”
“You think?”
I sit down beside her. “I know. Also, don’t ever tell a guy you’re sexually frustrated unless you feel like torturing him.”
With a coy smile, she tosses one of her toned legs over my waist. “So if I did this, would that be considered torture as well?”
“Careful,” I warn her, looking into her heated expression.
She doesn’t listen. Her hair falls over one shoulder as she leans a little closer, then runs her hands across my lower abs. Flexing them, I hold my breath and wait to see what her next move is. There’s something sexy about a girl taking control. Of her life. Of her emotions. Of her lust. All of it.
And right now, I’m just along for the ride.
Her palm is warm as she finally gains the courage to dive under my shirt and feel my heated skin. Slowly, she trails her manicured nails up my abs before scraping them along my chest. Her mouth hovers less than an inch above mine, but her shallow breathing fans across my face, tempting me even further. My restraint is barely intact as my fingers dig into her thighs again. Sliding them up a few more inches, I cup her toned ass and realize she isn’t wearing any sleep shorts.
“Are you in your underwear?” I grit out.
Her mouth quirks in the corner. “Is that a problem?”
“Tell me I can kiss you.”
The heat from her gaze burns me as it drops down to my mouth. “You can––”
My lips are on hers before she can finish her sentence, but I can’t take any more of this torture. I need to taste her. Feel her. Connect with her the only way I know how.
Wrapping my arm around her slender waist, I flip Nora onto her back then cage her in with my biceps before getting lost in her kiss. The room gets darker as the minutes tick by, then her underwear is ripped off, and I follow them with my board shorts.
With a moan, she throws her head back and squirms beneath me, her desperation as palpable as my own. When her shirt rides up a few more inches, I take advantage and tease her with my fingers until she’s sopping wet.
“Stop torturing me,” she begs. “We can do all the other stuff later. Right now, I need you inside me. Please.”
My amusement sparks. “All that other stuff?”
“You know what I mean!” she argues, her skin becoming more flushed as I stare down at her.
Damn, she’s adorable.
Diving back in, I lick the column of her throat, then bite the sensitive skin while lining myself up with her entrance. She’s right. We’ve been torturing ourselves long enough.
“Only because you asked nicely,” I tease her.
Nora’s back arches as she spreads her legs a little wider in anticipation. Then I press into her and let out a groan when I realize I’ve died and gone to Heaven.
“Shiiit,” she whimpers with her eyes squeezed shut.
Chuckling, I look back down at her. “Good shit? Or bad shit?”
She rolls her hips beneath me, then opens her eyes. “Get moving, Gage, or so help me––”
My deep thrust cuts her off, turning her order into a gasp as I bury my head back into her neck and breathe her in. Her nails digging into my back, I pick up my pace and begin to push into her harder, making sure to hit the perfect spot that pulls the longest moans from Nora’s sexy lips.
Like a wave, we let the moment build before crashing over the edge together. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt as we catch our breaths in the otherwise silent room. There’s been a shift in the air. I’m not sure what it is or how we caused it, but I know I’m not the only one who feels it. The girl beneath me turns from melted muscles to a stiff board. I steal another taste of her bare shoulder. Her skin is dewy sweet, and I commit the taste to memory, unsure if she’ll ever let me this close to her again.
“That…that was….” Nora swallows but doesn’t say anything else as I watch a single tear slip out of the corner of her eye before gliding past her temple and landing in her tangled hair.
Cupping the side of her face, I run my forefinger against the glistening trail that’s left and press my mouth to hers. This kiss is lazier and more intimate somehow. When I pull away, I don’t say anything. I simply hold her close and pray she can feel the same connection I do whenever we’re together.
“What time is it?” she chokes out.
“I don’t know. Why?”
“It’s super dark.” Eyes widening, she shoots up out of bed. “Shit! Did we miss the eclipse?”
Confused, I try to process her anger before searching for my cell to check the time. The screen is bright in the dark room, and I squint my eyes as I register that we missed it.
“We’re ten minutes late,” I inform her.
Covering her mouth, she collapses back onto the mattress. “So, we were too busy having sex to witness it.”
“Uh…yeah? I guess.”
She’s about to cry again. I can see it. I can feel it.
Not sure what to do, and feeling more insecure than I’ve felt in a long ass time, I mutter, “Do you want me to go?”
A soft sob escapes her before her white teeth dig into her lower lip so hard that the plump flesh starts to lose its color.
“Whoa, Pretty Girl. Calm down. What’s wrong? Is it about Gem? I’m sure she’ll understand why you missed it. You’re sick. She’ll forgive you––”
“It’s not about that,” she chokes.
“Then what is it?”
“I need you to go.”
“What?”
I knew there was a shift in the room after we finished, but come on. She won’t even give me a chance to prove that I’m not an ass?
“I just…I need you to go. I need to take a shower and––”
“Nora. Calm down. You’re freaking out.”
“That’s because that’s what I do. I’m a Cancer, remember? I’m an emotional wreck who feels everything. And right now, I feel like the stupid yolk has slipped out of the little cracks and is about to be tossed in the trash. I just…I need you to go. Now.”
“Where are you from, Nora?” I demand.
Flinching back, she blinks rapidly before shaking her head. “What?”
“Where do you live? We’ve never had this talk, and I want to know.”
She swallows, watching me like a hawk. “Miami. Why?”
“That could work,” I offer.
“What could work?”
“We could work.”
“Gage, don’t––”
“Why not?” I argue, my frustration boiling over.
“You don’t have to pity me because I’m crying right now, okay? I get it, but a tiger doesn’t change his stripes.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m not saying I love you. I’m not saying I want to marry you. I’m just saying that when we get off this boat…we could give this a real shot. We could try.”
“Or we could end it right now. You’ve gotten your brownie batter.”
Gritting my teeth, I spit, “Well, maybe I want to bake it. Did you ever think of that, Nora?”
“Don’t lie to me––”
“Who the hell says I’m lying? Is it because I’m a Leo? Is that the problem?” I laugh, though there isn’t any humor in it before I climb off the bed and begin pacing the tiny room. “Just because the stupid zodiac signs say we might struggle to communicate, is that why you’re not willing to give this a shot?”
“That’s not it––”
“You sure about that?” I growl. “I want you. I want us. I want hard conversations. I want real connections. I want fudgy, gooey brownies that are baked to perfection. I want to try.”
Her lower lip quivers as she crosses her arms over her chest, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Talk to me, Nora,” I plead, my voice softening as I take in the gorgeous girl in front of me.
“Why me?” she whispers.
“Because you’re you. I don’t know how else to explain it. You balance me out. You see things from a different perspective. You’re compassionate. You’re kind. You’re clean. You’re consistent. You’re…you’re everything. I wouldn’t want this if I didn’t think we could make it. I think about hurting you. About not being able to commit to you. And it makes me feel like someone
is ripping me apart limb by limb. Will you please try this with me?”
Standing up, she runs her fingers through her tangled hair in frustration. “But what about our future, Gage? I want the white picket fence. I want to get married. I want to have babies and a dog. You want freedom, and I can’t waste my time with someone who doesn’t want what I do.”
Her barriers are still firmly in place, and it pisses me off. How can she not see that she’s enough? That any man would be lucky to claim her, and I’m trying to do exactly that. Closing the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps, I raise my hand and cup her cheek. “When I’m with you, I don’t feel tied down. Maybe the stars really did align to bring me to you. But I’d be a fool to let you go.”
With a shallow breath, she whispers, “Are you sure, Gage?”
“About us?”
“Yeah.” Her gaze is filled with barely-restrained hope, and the sight is enough to disperse the last of my reservations.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I admit, “I’m unsure about a lot of things, but I know that I want the real deal with you. So tell me something, Pretty Girl. Do you want me too?”
“More than anything.”
“Then, I guess it’s settled.”
Her grin practically lights up the room. “I guess it is.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she raises her chin, and I savor this moment before kissing her. Again. Only this time, I crack the damn egg to let her know that we’re both in this together.
And we’re gonna make some damn good brownies.
Epilogue - Gage
One Year Later
“Hey, Bertie,” I greet her while setting a cup of coffee on the reception desk.
“Is this––”
“Coffee as black as your ex’s soul?” I wink. “Why, yes. Yes, it is.”
“Why do I only attract assholes, Gage?”
“Maybe because you’re looking in the wrong places. Have you decided whether you’re going to attend the singles’ cruise this year?”
“I dunno,” she hedges.
“You should. Nora is friends with one of the bartenders. She thinks you two would hit it off.”
“You think?”
I shrug. Hell if I know, but I’m not about to douse the hope shining in Bertie’s eyes. “Sure. Why not?”