by Lexi Ryan
Nic: Lilly and I are at the store. She wants to know if you prefer your hot chocolate with rainbow marshmallows or jumbo marshmallows.
I grin. Nic is dating Lilly’s dad, and it’s the best thing that ever happened to both the kid and the father. I’ve loved having her in my life too.
Me: Rainbow, obviously.
Nic: Obviously. See you in a couple of hours.
When I slide my phone back into my purse, Molly’s wrapping up her call and some of the tension has left her eyes.
“I’m going to fly home tonight,” she says. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay here. One of the reasons I can’t stand coming home is because Dad gets to me. It was a relief to be here and not have to have him judging my every move.”
I grimace. “I always thought you two had such a great relationship. Actually, I was . . . I was always kind of jealous, because he seemed to love you so much more than me.”
Her eyes go wide. “Are you kidding? I could never measure up to his sweet Ava. You were reliable and thoughtful, and most importantly, you didn’t spread your legs for every guy who came around.”
“He said that?”
“Almost verbatim.” She draws in a long breath and exhales slowly. “Anyway, it was a relief not to have to deal with that so much this trip, and with any luck, before I come home again next time, Mom will wake up and leave his drunk ass.”
Maybe it makes me a disloyal daughter, but I hope she’s right. Jill deserves better. “Next time being in another five years or so?”
Laughing, she shrugs. “Maybe. What’s here for me?” She crosses the kitchen and wraps me in a hug. “Thanks again. Good luck with the whole pregnancy thing.”
I give her a quick squeeze and then step back. “Be honest. Do you think I’m crazy?”
“For using your best friend to get a baby you plan to raise on your own? Yeah. I think you’re nuts.” Her expression softens. “But you’re steady, reliable Ava. I’m sure you’ve thought this through.”
“I have. I really have.”
She hoists her purse onto her shoulder. “See? It doesn’t matter what I think.”
I swallow hard. She’s right. It doesn’t matter, but it would feel nice to have a couple more people on my team. “Do you need a ride to the airport?”
“No, I’m going to call Mom and have her drive me. She’ll want a little time with me anyway.”
“Good luck with the new job and everything. Can I call you when Jake and I are in the city this summer?”
She beams. “I’d love that.”
She goes to the guest bedroom to pack, and I feel like I’ve made some steps toward building a relationship with my sister.
Ava
I’ve never been very into motocross aside from being excited every time Colton makes it through another race uninjured, but when I do go to the races, I always have a good time. Today was no different. Ellie, Jake, and I stood by the winding dirt track, drinking beer and cheering our heads off. The nerves I felt while packing my bags this morning fizzled the second the race started, and now I’m warm from the sun and lazy from the beer.
When Jake and I get into our room, I collapse on the bed, bone-deep exhausted but happy. There’s nothing like a day with your best friends to feed your soul.
“You had fun?” Jake asks.
“Yes.” I stretch my arms overhead and arch my back. The last few weeks of the school year are always hectic, but there’s an extra layer of tension around Windsor Prep as everyone waits to find out who’s going to lose their job. I needed to unwind. “Does it always feel this good to take time off work? Because I think I’ve been missing out.”
He chuckles. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He leans against the wall and watches me as if he’s waiting for me to say something or do something. I feel that old sexual awkwardness creep in. I’m sharing a room with Jake, and we’re supposed to make a baby.
Things were never awkward between us before, but now I’ve confused everything, and he has too, dammit. I just thought we’d have sex—compartmentalize the baby-making and the friendship, keeping them separate. He’s the one who’s muddied the two, and my old feelings refuse to stay buried where they belong.
Maybe I should have expected that, but it’s not what I was asking for, and it scares me more than a little.
I kept myself busy all week so I didn’t have a chance to think too much about spending Saturday night in a hotel with Jake. Monday, I met with Lilly to help with the audition piece she’s already nailed, then Tuesday I had the children’s theater board meeting. I caught up on grading on Wednesday and worked at Jackson Brews on Thursday and Friday.
I hoped my shifts would include a repeat of Jake pinning me against the cooler, maybe some of that knuckle foreplay he’s so good at, or even him giving me a preview of what was to come this weekend. Instead, he was scarce, and I barely talked to him all week other than to confirm our travel plans. But now we’re here, and I’m nervous and greedy for what happens next for reasons that have very little to do with the baby I want.
“Wanna order a pizza tonight or go out?” I ask, more to have something to say than because I’m hungry. We’re supposed to meet Ellie, Colton, Levi, and some chick Levi’s seeing at the club across the street at ten, but suddenly, the five hours between now and then seem to stretch too wide. They’re too filled with possibility.
“Let’s go out,” he says. “I can make reservations.”
“What about that tapas restaurant down the block?”
He already has his phone out, tapping the screen. “Got it.” He slides his phone back into his pocket. “I made a reservation for six. Wanna shower or anything?”
“That’s probably a good idea. I must stink from a day at the track.” I roll to sitting. Climbing off the bed feels like it requires way more effort than it should. I’m either going to need a cup of coffee or a nap if we’re staying out late with everyone tonight. I’m out of energy.
Grabbing my overnight bag, I head to the bathroom. I start the shower to warm it, but when I turn to close the door, Jake’s standing in the way, watching me.
I frown at him and wave to the shower. “Did you want to go first?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Okay . . .” I look at him, and then the door. “Do you wanna leave so I can do this?”
“Nope.”
“Jacob Jackson, you are not planning to stand there while I take off my clothes.”
He smirks. “I’m not? Are you sure about that?” His gaze sweeps over me. Heat races through my veins followed by a chill of anticipation. He folds his arms. “You don’t want me to see you naked. Is that the problem?”
“I don’t know why you’d want to,” I blurt, then realize it sounds like I’m fishing for compliments. I wince and wish I could take the words back. It’s not that I’m ashamed of my body. It’s just that I don’t have much to look at. My breasts are barely there, my ass only a hint of curve. There’s nothing to get excited over.
He chuckles. “Holy shit, Ava. I’m a dude—a heterosexual dude at that. Seeing you naked is . . .” His grin spreads. “Let’s just say I think about it a lot. Daily.”
I gape. Daily? Does that mean since we made this plan or before?
“But if you want me to leave, I can do that. I’ll just liquor you up tonight and try again.”
“Try to get me naked or try to have sex?” My voice squeaks. We’re going to do this. I’m sure we are, but I need to prepare myself. Mentally. “Because if this is just about seeing me naked, I don’t want . . .” I don’t want to disappoint you. “There’s just . . . not much to see.”
“I will see you naked before I’m inside you. It’s this silly little prerequisite of mine.” He walks toward me, and there’s a challenge in his eyes that makes me feel bolder than I should.
“So we’re going to”—I swallow—“start trying tonight?”
My heart’s racing when he bends his head down and leans his f
orehead against mine. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? How beautiful you looked in the sunshine with that big grin on your face?” He cups my jaw in his hand and groans. “I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight. About sharing that bed with you.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah.” He slides his hand into my hair and wraps it around his fist. He tugs gently, and pleasure sparks up my spine. “Are you going to let me touch you?” The words are a hot whisper against my ear, and everything in me is tight and begging.
“Yes.” I practically pant the word.
He pulls my earlobe between his teeth, and his hand trails over my collarbone and down to cup my breast. “And you’ll let me look at you?” His thumb grazes my nipple, and hell, now I want to be naked. Even the thin layers of my bra and T-shirt are too much to have between us. “Let me explore you?”
I nod, and I think I might whimper. Am I really expected to form words right now?
“Think on that for me.” His hand slips under my T-shirt, and shit, I want more. His palm runs over my belly. His fingertips dip under the waistband of my jeans. “Think about it in the shower. At dinner. When you dance tonight.” He drops his face to the crook of my neck and takes a deep breath.
Then he steps away and he’s walking out of the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.
He gets his wish. I think about him while I close my eyes under the spray, my body pulsing, my mind spinning fantasies about him pressing me up against the tile shower wall, the heat of his bare chest pressed against me as his hands explore.
I wash my hair and shave, taking the extra care of a woman who’s preparing for her lover. I’m thinking of him when I climb out of the shower and when I dry my hair. I’m thinking of him when I choose a short black dress and the slinkiest underwear from my bag.
When I step out of the bathroom, he’s changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a crisp black dress shirt that’s open at the collar and rolled up, revealing his forearms. Those forearms.
A sound bubbles up from my throat that I think might be a purr.
Jake looks me over. His slow, raking gaze trailing from my feet and up my body is its own kind of seduction. “Ready?”
I swallow. “I really am.”
Jake
Usually I wouldn’t be interested in the thumping music of the nightclub and the throng of bodies crowding the dance floor, but it’s good to see Ava let loose. She and Ellie have danced since we got here, and Ava’s gotten more into it with each subsequent song. Her arms are in the air, her hips rocking back and forth as if the music is vibrating from inside her.
“Thanks for coming this weekend,” Levi says from beside me. We’re leaning against the railing that surrounds the dance floor, and his date is . . . somewhere. I don’t know. I haven’t paid much attention to the giggling redhead.
I nod without looking at him, because I can’t take my eyes off Ava.
“It’s always nice to have a few extra people around so I’m not just the third wheel,” Levi says.
This time, I cut my eyes to my brother. “You can’t be a third wheel if you have a girl hanging on your arm, Levi.”
He shrugs, an unspoken you know what I mean. And I do. The women in Levi’s life come and go, but Ellie is as much a fixture of his world as his friend Colton is. She has been since she and Colton started dating.
I know he loves them both. But I’m also realizing his feelings for Ellie might be heavier than any of us realized. Unrequited love is a bitch. Hopefully he handles it better than I did.
“How’s the big plan going?” Levi asks.
On the dance floor, Ellie loops her arms behind Ava’s neck, and Ava throws her head back in laughter as Ellie dances against her. “It wasn’t the smoothest start, but I’m getting there.”
“Getting in her pants or in her heart?” he asks, then holds up two hands when I scowl. “The difference seems significant, is all.”
“As I’m all too aware.” I drain my beer, then slide the empty bottle back onto the table. I don’t want to talk about this shit tonight. “I’m going to go dance with my girl.”
Levi arches a brow. “You dance?”
“I do tonight.” I head onto the floor and pull Ava away from Ellie and into my arms as if I do it all the time. Ava gasps, her eyes going wide, and I press a palm to the small of her back and hold her body against mine. Because I can. Because she’s given me permission to touch her tonight. Because I’ve waited for this for years, and I know not letting myself take things too far might be the hardest damn thing I’ve ever had to do.
She laughs and shakes her head. “What’s gotten into you? You never dance.”
I take her chin in my hand and turn her face up toward mine. Her laughter falls away, and her eyes search my face. I dip my head down and rub the tip of my nose over hers. “Just dance.”
She probably can’t even hear me. The music’s so loud in here and the crowd grows thicker around us with every song, but dancing is in Ava’s blood. She loops her hands behind my neck and shifts her hips, so close that her body brushes against mine with each movement.
I can’t think about us falling apart. I can’t think about her never seeing me as more than a friend or about her starting a family without me. So I just think about this: Ava dancing in my arms. Her body close and warm. Soft.
I place the flat of my palm against her belly and drop my nose to the crook of her neck to take in her smell, her heat. I use my free hand to trail up and down her side, only hinting at every inch I plan to explore.
And when looking into her eyes makes the sting in my chest too sharp, I spin her in my arms and pull her back against my front. She reaches one hand back behind my neck, keeping hold of me as we dance. She craves the same contact I do. I have to believe it means something.
Ava
Jake’s dancing with me. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I swear this feels like sex. The way his hands move over my body, gripping my hips, the graze of knuckles over my stomach, his breath at my neck then my hair tugged lightly in his fist . . .
I’ve never had sex with Jake, but I can imagine if we ever make it there, this is what it’ll feel like—a relentless desire for more, more, more, each touch making my body plead for the next, each caress making my skin hum. The thought makes me want to rush this and slow it down all at once.
Dinner was good. We didn’t talk again about the things he said to me in the bathroom, and I didn’t ask again if he planned on sleeping with me tonight—a question I realized he never actually answered.
We talked about typical Jake and Ava things: business at the bar, school, his mom’s treatments, how perfect his niece is going to be on stage this summer. I understood he was making me wait. And I liked it. But now that his hands are on me and his body is against mine, I’m done waiting. I spin in his arms so I can see his face. I feel good after a couple of drinks, and more relaxed than I have in months. Maybe years.
Jake scans my face before meeting my eyes. “You’re drunk,” he says, his voice rough.
“I’m . . . relaxed.”
“Relaxed but not drunk?” he asks, searching my face. “Tonight, the difference matters.”
“Buzzed, not drunk,” I promise. I rise onto my toes to get my mouth closer to his ear. “Take me to bed.”
He runs his thumb over my bottom lip and nods. “Yeah.”
I wave to Ellie, to Colton, to Levi and his date. Jake keeps hold of my hand the entire way to the door. His strides are long, and I practically have to jog to keep up with him. I brace myself to chase after him the whole way to the hotel, but his steps slow the second we reach the sidewalk, as if the cool air outside the club has sobered him and made him less frantic.
I squeeze his hand. I want him frantic. I liked the way he was racing out of there with me. I was imagining he couldn’t wait to get me alone, and I want that to be true. I’m just not sure it is.
We stop to cross at the light, and he’s so quiet it’s killing me. His whole body
is tense. Is he regretting this? Wishing he hadn’t made promises or whispered in my ear?
“Jake?” I’m still holding his hand, and I squeeze. This is where I should give him the out. You don’t have to do this. It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.
Before I can get the words off my tongue, his hard eyes meet mine. He shakes his head as he presses his index finger to my lips. “Don’t.”
What does that mean?
I don’t have much time to analyze the word before he’s tugging me across the intersection, into the hotel, and across the lobby. The second the elevator doors close behind us, I’m pressed against the wall, his mouth on mine. His hands are greedy and seem to be everywhere at once. One is in my hair and the other’s at my hip, tugging at my dress until his fingers splay over my bare thigh. He traces the strap of my thong from the small of my back to under my belly and down between my legs, where I know I’m wet. Does he feel that through the lace? Does he understand that I suck at this? That my body sometimes locks up and that at any moment my pleasure could morph into panic? That my overactive brain could start a destructive spiral and ruin everything?
My worries evaporate at the feel of his knuckles along the fabric between my legs. “Do you want me to touch you here?” The question is a husky whisper against my ear. “Put my mouth on you here?”
I never thought I was into words, but Jake’s are the best kind of foreplay, and I want more. “Yes. Please. I want you. All of you.”
“I’m not going to fuck you tonight, Ava.”
I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and moan as I release it. “Please.” I know I’d never have the courage to speak like this if it weren’t for the drinks. I’m grateful for the buzz making me bold. I need the courage tonight. “I’m begging. You said that’s what you wanted.”
His palm snakes up my dress and flattens against my belly as his fingertips slide into my panties and he cups me. “I like hearing you say that. I like knowing you want me.”