Under Pressure (Lessons Learned Book 1)

by Smartypants Romance

  “The eight-year-old.”

  “Right.” I’ve never explained to a girl about my family, never talked on a personal level long enough for it to even come up. Actually, the only person who really knows is Ethan.

  I rub my palms on my jeans and turn down the heater settings. The damn thing must be acting up. It’s suddenly too hot in here.

  “Anyway, all that has led to, you know, various tensions over the years. I got in some trouble as a teen before I picked up boxing.” I fiddle with the heater again, turning it up when I notice Mia rubbing her arms. “But that’s all in the past. Once I moved out, didn’t have to be around them all the time, it got better. I just see them every once in a while now. And my brothers even less than that since they moved out years ago.”

  She nods silently, biting at her thumbnail.

  I turn on my old street, passing by the familiar houses, until we reach the end of the cul-de-sac. There are a ton of cars parked here, probably friends of my mom’s from work.

  Mia smooths down her shirt after I park and turn the car off, exhaling a long breath. “You don’t have to be nervous,” I tell her.

  She glances over at me, her demeanor changing. “Oh, I’m not. Parents love me.” She grins. “I’m nervous for you. Once they meet me, any other girl you bring home will pale in comparison,” she teases. The smile slips from her face after a moment, though. “Not that it matters.”

  She unbuckles her seat belt and exits the car, turning to walk up the porch steps.

  I jog to catch up with her and grab the sleeve of her coat, stopping her. “What doesn’t matter?”

  “You don’t do girlfriends, so it’s not like you’ll bring home anyone anyway.”

  She says it factually, no expression on her face, but I can’t help but get the sense there’s something underneath. “Right,” I say slowly.

  She nods her head. “Right.”

  We stare at each other, some kind of nonverbal communication occurring that I can’t quite pick up on.

  I turn and ring the doorbell, even though I have a key, for some reason feeling like a guest since Mia’s here with me.

  My brother Dylan answers the door, immediately pulling me into a hug. “Tyler, it’s been too long.”

  I startle, returning his embrace hesitantly. We don’t ever hug upon greeting, but I haven’t seen him in months. New York keeps him busy.

  He leans away, grinning at me. “I swear, you’ve gotten bigger. Come in, come in.” He steps back, motioning us forward. “And you must be Mia.” He turns to her, enveloping her in a hug next. He’s always been more tactile than Brandon or me.

  “Oh, me next.” Mom comes up, hugging her too.

  Mia looks pleasantly surprised, returning it enthusiastically. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Mrs. Jenkins. And happy birthday. I made you a dessert—red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.”

  “Well, isn’t that just—” Mom puts a hand to her chest and glances at me briefly, her eyes shining. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She takes the container from Mia, opening it up to reveal a set of perfectly frosted cupcakes. She takes a polite bite out of one, then does a double take. “These are amazing.”

  Mia beams in appreciation, lighting up the room with her smile.

  I mean, she just smiles. Like normal.

  “Let me introduce you to everyone,” Mom says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Here, Tyler, hold this.” She hands me the cupcake container, kissing my cheek briefly. “And don’t let anyone take them. I want to keep them all for myself.”

  What… what just happened?

  I stand there holding the cupcakes as my mom takes Mia over to a group of her friends. Why is she introducing her? What does it matter? Mia’s never going to meet these ladies again.

  “Happy birthday,” I call out after her. “Not that it matters I’m here,” I mutter.

  “Mom did the same thing with Laura.” Dylan grins. “Let me introduce you. You haven’t met her yet.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  He drags me over to a posh brunette, a Manhattan native that apparently Dylan fell in love with instantly upon meeting.

  I stare at him, wondering what happened to the brother who used to try and convince me to eat beetles as a kid.

  “Tyler,” Laura says warmly, leaning in and kissing my cheek. Okay, I guess that’s happening, random girl I just met. “Dylan’s told me so much about you.”

  “He has?” I glance over at him, his expression relaxed and open.

  She nods. “He says you’re into boxing. Such a bloodthirsty sport.” Her eyes gleam, as if she likes that facet of it.

  “It can be.” I pause, unsure what to add to the conversation. I don’t normally do small talk. But Dylan’s nodding his head encouragingly… “Um, I’ve actually been taking Mia to the boxing gym I go to.”

  “Is that your girlfriend?”

  “No, she’s, um… she’s…”

  “She’s Tyler’s date,” Dylan chimes in.

  Date? Is that what Mia is? I search across the room, catching sight of her talking to my mom, Dan, Brandon, and his wife, Rochelle, a big smile on her face.

  A rush of jealousy surges through me. How can she so easily talk to them? Fit in with them in a way I never have?

  I shake my head. God, what’s wrong with me? I wanted her to speak to them. Take the pressure off me so I wouldn’t have to. And now I’m faulting her for it?

  I excuse myself from the conversation and go over to the front window, looking out at the neighboring houses. Raucous laughter sounds from behind me and I find myself both cringing away and swaying toward the sound, wanting to know what’s so funny, be in on the joke.

  Someone brushes against my shoulder and I glance over, finding Mia next to me. “What are you doing brooding over here alone? We’re going to have cake soon.” She links her arm through mine and I let her drag me over to my family, including me in the conversation.

  And after a while, I actually find myself… enjoying it.

  What alternate reality have I stumbled into? When has anyone cared enough to introduce me to girlfriends, to talk with me, laugh with me, be happy to see me?

  It must be because Mia’s here. They’re putting on a show for her. I’ve never interacted with everyone like this, found such easiness in it all. Had Dylan laugh at my joke, Brandon tell me he wants me to come over for dinner at his house sometime. They’ve never been this inclusive.

  Or have I never included myself as much?

  I shake off the thought. No, that’s not it. This is all just a special night. Everyone’s in a good mood because of Mom’s birthday. But next time, it’ll be back to normal. They won’t care if I come over or not. Brandon will forget about having me over for dinner, Dylan will return to New York and I won’t see him for another few months.

  Once Mia’s gone, they’ll remember how they really feel about me. I’m the reason the family broke up. Even if they act like they’ve forgotten, I haven’t.

  “I was expecting some ogre family,” Mia says on the car ride home, chatting away, not a care in the world. “But they were all so nice. Your mom actually reminds me of mine. She and my dad moved to Chicago last year for his work. They didn’t want to leave me, but I’ll probably move for grad school anyway…” She trails off, and I can sense her full attention on me now. “What is it?”

  I keep my eyes on the road. “Nothing.”

  “Tyler,” she replies in this exasperated voice, as if she says it all the time.

  “What, you think you know my moods now?”

  She looks at me steadily from the passenger seat. “Will picking a fight about it help?”

  Ugh, save me from psychologists. “Nothing’s the matter.”

  “Then why are you being all sulky?”

  “I’m always sulky,” I mutter.

  “Disinterested is different than sulky.”

  Damn, she’s right.

  I tap my thumb on the steering wheel. “My family really liked yo
u.”

  “I liked them too,” she says easily.

  I don’t say anything else, and after a minute, she asks, “Is that what’s on your mind? Your family?”

  “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me. You’re using a therapist’s voice.”

  “How do you know what that sounds like?” she questions in that same even tone.

  “Because Mom made me go to one.”

  She reaches over, running her hand down my arm in a brief caress. “Why didn’t you mention that when I told you I’d gone to therapy?”

  “It wasn’t relevant then. I barely knew you.” That’s not true. I’d already known her a month by then.

  But I didn’t trust her.

  Do I now?

  “Why were you in therapy?”

  If anyone else asked me that, I’d tell them to fuck off. “Anger management,” I finally say after a minute’s silence.

  “About your family? How you think they don’t love you even though they obviously do?”

  I glance over at her sharply. “I know what it seemed like tonight, but I promise you, that’s not the norm.”

  “Your mom said she invites you over all the time, but you hardly accept.”

  “Because they don’t want me there.” Shit, I didn’t mean to say that.

  “They do. Why would they invite you over otherwise? Why would they go out of their way to include you?”

  “They—” I pull at the neckline of my shirt, suddenly warm. “They have to. They’re obligated.”

  “You’re an adult who hasn’t lived at home for almost three years. That’s a long con for them to keep up if you think they have some kind of ulterior motive.”

  “Whose side are you on?” I blurt out.

  “There are no sides. But I have your best interests at heart.”

  “I—I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  I can sense her eyes on me, but resist looking over. “Okay,” she finally says.

  Now I glance over, surprised she gave up so easy.

  “I respect your boundaries, Tyler. I won’t push you if you outright tell me to stop. But I’m here to talk if you ever need to.”

  “Yeah.” I swallow. “Okay.”

  We sit in silence, not exactly comfortable, but not awkward either. That restlessness is coursing through me again, but the boxing gym is already closed for the night. “When we get back to your place,” I ask her, “can I come in?” She has to know there’s only one reason I’d ask to come in this late at night.

  “Yes,” she whispers, the slight sound full of promise.

  We leave it at that, the atmosphere in the car becoming charged with a much more welcome kind of tension.

  Just five minutes left to her apartment. And once we’re there, I don’t have any talking planned.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mia

  Tyler parks the car outside the entrance to my building, both of us still silent. It was hard to get a read on him tonight at his parents’ house. He seemed alternately unhappy and pleased at the way his family was treating him, like he wanted to think the worst of them, and then surprised when they acted the opposite.

  Or maybe he was just annoyed they were treating us as if we were a couple, even though he very clearly told them we aren’t. He only said we work together. Nothing about our arrangement, which I don’t blame him for keeping mum about, but not even about being friends. I don’t think it’s a case of being ashamed of me, more that he seems to keep them at arm’s length, no matter how hard they try to lessen that distance.

  I understand how they feel. If he would just let go of this old hurt he’s holding on to, his life would be so much richer for it. But you can’t make someone change. Only they’re capable of doing that. All I can do is show him I’m here for him, that I won’t betray him or whatever else he thinks the people in his life will do to him.

  I unlock the front door, my hands slightly trembling for some reason. The lights are out, the apartment actually the correct temperature for a change instead of boiling hot. Kelsey must not be home. He slides my coat from my shoulders, hanging it on the hook by the door, then does the same with his own, all the while maintaining eye contact with me.

  I can barely breathe, the mood between us shifting. It’s like I’m being stared down by some kind of predator, unable to look away for fear he’ll pounce when I do.

  But don’t I want that?

  He stalks toward me, crowding my body as he presses me against the front door, kissing me hungrily.

  Yes. This is what was building those last few minutes in the car, whatever he had leashed finally free. I wrap my arms over his shoulders, kissing him back with equal enthusiasm. He tastes like desire, a fantasy come to life, exploring my mouth, my senses consumed by him.

  His hands drift down my torso until they reach my ass, squeezing, lifting me up until my legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s carrying me into my bedroom.

  He shuts the door behind him, turning me around and pressing me against this door now, his fingers going for the hem of my shirt. I slide down until my feet touch the floor and bring my arms above my head so he can drag it off, followed by my bra. He bends his head down, his tongue lovingly circling my nipple, gently lapping at it.

  How can he make me go from zero to sixty that quickly?

  I hold his head to my chest for long minutes as he switches back and forth between my breasts, until I’m panting, pressing my hips senselessly into his for relief.

  He kneels down, his face even with my belly, and looks up at me, toying with the button of my jeans.

  “Please,” I whisper.

  A wicked grin spreads across his face as he unbuttons me, pulling the zipper down slowly, and peels my jeans off. He nuzzles his nose into my panties, inhaling deeply.

  I close my eyes, sinking against the door. Oh God, I can only imagine what I must smell like. He has to know how turned on I am. How wet I am for him already.

  He must like it, though, because he presses soft kisses to the area, the contact so close to what I actually need. He knows exactly what he’s doing, a faint grin on his face as I sneak a peek at him from lowered lashes.

  “You like watching?” he drawls, languidly pushing my panties aside and giving one long, slow lick.

  My hips buck involuntarily, needing him as I’ve never needed anything else in my life. “I—” I start to automatically deny it, then pause. We’ve both already agreed this is a mutually beneficial arrangement. What’s the sense in denying that I want every bit of pleasure he can give me? “I like seeing you kneeling between my legs,” I tell him, my voice wavering slightly, nerves getting to me.

  Are you seriously trying to dirty talk? Don’t scare him off—

  “What else do you like?” he asks, his movements still slow and methodical, cutting off that crippling inner voice.

  My breaths pick up as he gently circles my clit with his tongue. “I like how you always make sure I enjoy what you’re doing.”

  “What?” He leans back, the sensual daze clearing out of his eyes.

  See, you’ve done it now.

  “Never mind.” I pull his head to where I want it again. Okay, apparently that’s not sexy talk. “I liked last time when you kind of… held me in place.” I grab his hands and position them over my hip bones, bolstering me against the door. “It was like you couldn’t get enough of me. Needed to keep me there.”

  “You like being at my mercy?”

  I shudder at the intense look in his eyes. I wouldn’t put it that way necessarily, but… “Yes.”

  He drags my panties off me, placing his hands back in the same position, his thumbs coming down to part me.

  “You ready to get wild?”

  “Yes.” I weave my fingers through the silky strands of his hair, holding him in place the same as he’s doing to me.

  “Let me know what you like.” He gives little licks to my clit, my hips jerking with each one. “Moan for me, pull my hair, do what feels natural.”


  Oh, I can definitely do that.

  He sinks his tongue in me then, making me groan aloud. “Yeeeessss. I like that. And that swirly thing… yeah, that.” I position myself so I’m more open to him, hitching a foot up on his shoulder. I don’t even care what I look like anymore, I just need him to keep using that magical tongue.

  He’s the first guy to ever go down on me, but I swear there’s no way this can be normal. He’s so into it, like he’s truly savoring me, which in turn only ratchets my desire higher. Kelsey talks about her conquests often, but she’s never said much about oral. Maybe she’s never been with a guy who was skilled at it.

  Or maybe it’s just the connection between me and Tyler.

  I stroke my fingers through his hair, restlessness building inside me as my body craves more. “Tyler,” I pant, tugging at the strands. He moans, his hands coming up to grip my ass as my supporting leg falters, until he’s practically holding me up, my head back against the door, eyes closed, barely able to process anything other than how good he’s making me feel, how much I want to—

  “Oh God, right there.” I thrust my hips toward his mouth as the climax builds, moaning incoherently as it finally breaks, my body shaking, trembling, as I come back down.

  He slowly pulls away from me, his eyes burning bright, so full of lust it’s hard to look at.

  I put that look there. I got him that turned on. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders as he straightens and easily picks me up, bringing me over to my bed to gently place me on the duvet.

  I turn to my side to watch him strip off his own clothes, his muscles flexing as he removes each article of clothing.

  “Can you just stay like that for a second?” I ask him, basking in his nakedness. I look my fill, appreciating every part of his body, from his defined calves up to his tousled dark hair.

  “Are you done ogling me?” He smirks.

  I bite my lip, my cheeks heating, but decide to be playful instead of embarrassed about it. “No, can you turn around now?”

  “What, you want me to flex my ass?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He actually does, spinning the opposite direction and making some kind of stripper-like move that fully highlights the perfection that is his ass.