Simmering Love (Slow Burn Book 3)

by Jacie Lennon

  “I’m-not-sexually-experienced,” I groan.

  “Speak up, woman. This is serious,” Andi growls.

  “I’m not, um … sexually experienced, I guess you could say. Meaning I’ve never, um … had sex.” My voice gets high-pitched at the end, and I know my face is the color of a freshly painted fire engine.

  “Is that a question or a statement?” Andi raises one eyebrow.

  “A statement.” I punctuate the sentence with a curt nod and a sigh.

  “Are you telling me, you’re a virgin?”

  “I’m not, not telling you I’m a virgin,” I squeak out, and she starts laughing.

  “This is gold. No, really. This is great,” she says between bouts of laughter as if I said the funniest thing she’d heard in ages. “Just come out and say it. There’s no shame in being a—”

  “Shut up.” My eyes go wide when I hear Ben’s door open down the hall.

  Andi only laughs harder, and I contemplate opening my front door and shoving her outside, locking her out of my life forever. But, no, she’s my only friend here, as she so subtly pointed out earlier.

  I need better taste in friends.

  I go quiet, and Andi continues laughing as Ben walks into the room, heading straight for the kitchen, where he pulls something out of the fridge and pops it into the microwave. I’m silently praying for the floor to open up and swallow me because in my worst nightmares, I see Andi spilling my big secret to Ben out of trying to do you a solid, sis, and then I would be exposed for the child I am, prompting Ben to never look at me the same way again.

  “Either of y’all hungry?” Ben’s deep voice cuts through the tension brewing inside my body, and I jerk a little.

  “Nah, I’ve got to run,” Andi says, standing and stretching a little, her amused expression focused on me. “This isn’t over.”

  “This is so over,” I say, and she only winks in answer.

  Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead, rings through my head, and I resist the urge to slap my palm against my forehead. Gah, I’m such an idiot.

  “What’s not over?” Ben’s face appears around the partition, and he stops to look at both of us.

  I can only imagine what we look like. Andi’s face says that she has a juicy secret to tell, and my face says, Tell him, and I will murder you, Breaking Bad–style, and then I’ll find a barrel to dump your body in.

  “Nothing,” we say together.

  Andi gathers her purse and phone. I walk her to the door, and she gives me a small hug before leaving, letting me finally breathe again once it’s shut behind her.

  “Nothing,” I tell him again as I turn to face him, finding his intense, dark gaze still on me as he chews on whatever he has in his bowl.

  He gives me a nod before heading back toward his room, Danger flitting in and out from between his feet, hoping for a bite before the door closes with a thud.

  I sigh and lean back against the front door, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling as I try to convince myself to make the first move. But true to myself, I’m a weenie, and I stay plastered to the door, content to stay the course and one day be a forty-year-old virgin.

  15

  Ben

  I need a break, some time to just let loose. Now that I have sexual tension greeting me at home and the impending visit from Pepper’s parents, I make plans to meet the guys for dinner. This is the first time we’ve all had a shift off at the same time since we played basketball together.

  I figure it’s a good time for us to get together and catch up since everyone has wives and families that keep them busy. Everyone but me. It’s not that I envy them, but I guess, in a way, I do. I envy their stable environment.

  They don’t have gambling-addicted brothers leeching off them, and they go home to loving wives at night. I go home to my room and usually have a rousing good date with my right hand before slipping off to sleep, thinking about the girl lying just across the hall from me.

  Maybe that’s messed up. I don’t know. I just feel like I’m going a little crazy sometimes. I’ve never been affected like this before, always able to turn my feelings off at will. But could this mean that this is something different, something more? I have a few things holding me back from pulling the trigger on whatever these emotions are inside of me.

  First, she’s my roommate, and she pays for half of the rent. It’s been nice to have that burden gone since rent in Nashville is so damn high. Yeah, my parents have money and even offered to help me out. I just don’t want to have to rely on them. But even I know that’s a weak excuse. I don’t want to lose her.

  What if I’m wrong, and this isn’t anything different? My feelings that I think I have might sputter out a short time into a relationship with her, and then where will I be? Paying full rent again. Alone. Facing my right-hand dates for the foreseeable future.

  Second, she hasn’t given me any indication that she’s even interested in me. Sometimes, I think she shoots a lingering glance my way or that I see heat in her eyes when she’s looking at me, but it’s never there long, and then I trick myself into believing it.

  Can I project my feelings onto her? Don’t people see what they want to see sometimes? All the time?

  Maybe I’m looking at the situation through rose-colored glasses, and I need to be set straight. That’s where the guys come in. They won’t put up with the bullshit I’m trying to sell myself.

  I pat my pocket and make sure I have my wallet before locking my truck and heading into Frank’s, our favorite sports bar. The guys are already there, seated at a high-top in the bar area, and finally, Craig spots me, lifting a hand in greeting before leaning back over to hear what Ezra is saying.

  “Ben,” Mason says, slapping me on the back. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s going. Y’all already order?”

  “Yep, got appetizers coming. You’re in charge of your own drink.”

  “Thank God,” I say with a chuckle.

  I remember the time the guys ordered before I got there and put pepper in my dark beer. I almost choked and died. Not even joking.

  “Who’s playing?” I glance up at the many TV screens mounted to every wall in the place streaming the pre-season games.

  “Jets and Browns. My money is on the Jets.” Craig takes a swig of beer and tilts his chair a little. “God, it feels good to get out of the house.”

  “Hear, hear,” Mason says, and Ezra echoes him.

  They expectantly look at me, and I give them a grin and a shrug.

  “Can’t help that y’all settled down and can’t do anything now,” I say, and they scowl at me.

  The waitress appears with the first round of food, setting down a basket of loaded nachos and three different flavors of wings.

  “Thanks, Caroline,” Craig says, and I arch an eyebrow.

  “Sure thing. Can I get you anything?” She turns to me.

  “Old-fashioned, thanks,” I say, and she nods, walking back toward the bar.

  “She’s family,” Craig says, digging into the nachos. “Old-fashioned, huh?”

  I give a noncommittal grunt, and the guys’ attention swings from the TV to me. Sometimes, we’re worse than women about gossip.

  “Who is she?” Ezra asks, swiping a wing through the container of ranch in front of him.

  “Who’s who?” I feign ignorance.

  I’m in a quandary now. I can’t come out and say it’s Pepper, not with Mason sitting right here. That’s a good way for him to want to settle this in a gentlemen’s duel, and seeing as I’m taller and more built than him, I’d hate to have to kick his ass.

  Ezra points his beer bottle at me. “The girl who’s causing you to drink liquor on boys’ beer night.”

  “Boys’ beer night?” I feel my mouth gape. “That’s what you’ve named it?”

  “It’s what Hanna named it, and it kind of stuck.”

  Hanna is Ezra’s wife. Best friends with Mason’s wife, Jules, so now, they’re kind of like family.

&nbs
p; I clear my throat. “How is Hanna? And the kids?”

  “Shit! Dammit, go. Go!” Ezra yells at the TV before swinging his attention back to me. “Sorry, what? Oh, Hanna is good. Livie is a little diva, and Luke is into everything. Toddlers, man.”

  I wouldn’t know.

  “So, anyway, who is she?”

  So much for them dropping it.

  “She’s no one,” I say, looking up as Caroline finally sets my drink in front of me. I lift it to my mouth and take a long pull. The tartness hitting my tongue is a welcome taste. I take another right after. I don’t drink often, so even after just the first few sips, the buzz coursing through me is strong.

  “So, there is a she?” Craig leans in, pulled into the conversation by the promise of gossip in the air.

  These guys must be really bored if they find my life interesting.

  “I didn’t say that,” I protest, knowing it’s a lost cause. “Fine, there is someone, but I think she just wants to be friends.”

  Ezra leans in, a smirk on his face. “So did Hanna. But I talked her out of it, and look where we are now,” he says, spreading his arms out wide, almost slapping someone walking by our table.

  “I haven’t really talked to her about it,” I admit, taking another long pull. At this rate, I’ll be under the table by the time we leave. I set my drink down and decide to take it a bit slower.

  “Then, how do you know she just wants to be friends?” Mason raises his eyebrow as he lifts his water to his mouth. He’s been sober ever since he went off the rails after his grams died.

  I feel like a deer in headlights, like Mason will know the truth if he looks at me a beat too long, so I lift my drink to my mouth again, draining it. So much for taking it slow. I give a shrug and mentally berate myself for giving in and talking about this with them. They’re a bunch of sharks, circling and ready to bite at the first sight of blood. Right now, I’m the one bleeding all over this fucking table because I can’t keep my mouth shut.

  “Another?” Caroline asks me, pausing by the table, eyeing my empty tumbler.

  I nod and turn back to the guys. “I don’t really. I just don’t want to mess up the friendship we have by asking her outright. Ya know?”

  “Nope. I’m not a pussy. I just come right out and say what I want to say,” Mason says, grinning.

  “Shut up, Mason. We all know how long it took you to finally get serious with Jules,” Craig says, and I grin.

  Craig: 1. Mason: 0.

  “Look, this is what you have to do.” Craig leans over to grab some of the food in front of me. Food I should be eating with how fast I’m drinking. “You’ve got to create a diversion. Shall we say, flush the quail out.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Well, if she’s not going to come to you, then you have to make her react. My idea—excuse me, my really fucking great idea—is that you should go on a date.”

  “No shit. That’s the whole problem in the first place,” I say, scowling at how unhelpful they’re being.

  “No, no, no. Not with her. A different girl.”

  “How would that help anything?”

  “You pay close attention to how she reacts, and then you’ll have your answer.”

  “Let me get this straight. You think I should ask someone else out on a date to see how she reacts?” At first, I’m a little against the idea, but now that I’m thinking about it—or maybe it’s the liquor I just sucked down—the idea has merit.

  “That’s a supremely horrible idea,” Ezra says, shaking his head first at Craig and then at me. “Don’t do that.”

  I nod at his statement, knowing that he’s right.

  “No, I like it. Let the kid do it,” Mason says.

  “I’m literally, like, one year younger than you,” I say, glaring at him.

  “You are? Hmm.” He pops a chip in his mouth.

  “No, I’m not going to fake date someone to make her jealous. That’s immature and petty.” I slowly shake my head as Caroline sets another drink down in front of me.

  “I have the perfect candidate,” Craig says, looking at Caroline with a gleam in his eye.

  “No, nope.” I emphatically shake my head, but Craig ignores me. Maybe now is when I end up under the table—and not just because of the liquor. I drain my second drink, knowing that I should slow down.

  “What’s up? Can I get you anything else?” she asks Craig once she sees him staring at her.

  “Caroline,” Craig says, looking at her with a grin.

  “Don’t do it,” I groan, and he pats me on the shoulder.

  “Craig,” she says, drawling his name out.

  “My friend here needs your help.”

  “I’m not dating any more of your friends, Craig. Not after last time.”

  “Jarrod wasn’t really my friend. How was I supposed to know he had a foot fetish?” Craig throws his hands up, and I hear Ezra snicker. This sounds like a good story. “Anyway, Benny here needs a date. He’s too scared—”

  “I’m not scared. And I can get my own dates.”

  Caroline rolls her eyes and looks at me. “Benny, huh?”

  “Just Ben is fine.”

  “Okay, just Ben, I’m down.”

  I look at Craig, and he shrugs.

  Thanks for all your help, man.

  “For the record, this isn’t a good idea. At all,” Ezra chimes in.

  “Yeah, Ez is right,” I say, avoiding eye contact with her. “Craig is just messing around. Sorry.” I flash a pathetic smile at Caroline, who shrugs and walks away, muttering something about how she deserves a big tip.

  “Come on now. Leave the guy alone,” Mason says.

  He doesn’t know who I’ve been talking about, and in all honesty, he might not have a problem with me wanting to date Pepper, but I don’t want to find out the hard way if he does.

  Should I keep it from him? Probably not. Am I going to? Yep.

  “She won’t know you’re trying to make her jealous,” Craig says, nodding like it’s the best idea he’s had. “Let’s order shots for the best plan I’ve ever come up with.”

  Everyone ignores him.

  “I think you should just be an adult and talk to her about it instead of playing games,” Ezra says, looking back at the television.

  I drain my second drink while nodding, and then I reach for something to eat. “Yeah, I don’t know if I’m quite ready to cross that bridge. I don’t want to ruin what we have right now. Craig might have a point though. I’m not going to fake date someone, but maybe I should go on a real date and see what happens.”

  I raise my drink to Caroline, and she nods, letting me know she’s going to bring me another. This is finally falling into place. It’s perfect. I smile to myself as I eat another chip.

  “See, you just need to get out there and see what happens,” Craig says before turning back to the TV, conversation over.

  Caroline brings my drink over, and once she walks away, I realize there’s a piece of paper underneath it. I pick it up, squinting, and read what she wrote while my head swims.

  Just in case.

  555-3563

  “What’s that?” Mason asks, eyeing my paper.

  I quickly ball it up, shoving it in my pocket.

  “Nothing,” I say, suddenly nervous. I need to think when my head is clearer. And it’s definitely not clear right now.

  I watch Mason’s hand grab my keys from the top of the table as I set my glass down. It takes me a moment to move my eyes up to look at him.

  “I’ll drive you home in your truck,” he says, sticking my keys in his pocket. “Ezra can follow me to bring me back to my truck.”

  “I can just call a cab,” I manage to say.

  He laughs. “I got you, man.”

  “I love you, man,” I say, nodding my head.

  “And now, it’s weird,” he mutters.

  16

  Pepper

  I jerk awake, drool rolling down my face and my laptop still ope
n on my lap. Checking my phone, I see that I have plenty of time before my parents arrive, and I reach up to massage my neck. I must have slept on it funny. This is going to be a long day.

  I crawl out of bed and pull on a pair of sweats underneath my long T-shirt. I trudge to the door, leash in hand to take Danger out. I’m not sure when he became my dog, but I don’t really mind.

  “Come on, boy,” I whisper, and he trots outside after me. “What do you think about today? Should I come clean?”

  Danger looks up at me, his expressive eyes trying to tell me what to do but I just can’t read them.

  “Well? The longer I continue this charade, the higher the chance it’s going to come back to bite me in the butt.”

  Danger sniffs around and finally does his business, staring me in the eyes the entire time.

  “Why do you animals do that? Why do you stare into my soul while using the bathroom?” I mutter, following him back toward the door.

  I feel like a crazy person, talking to myself, but I know what Ben would say if I tried to talk to him. He’s the truth police.

  Uggghhh.

  I haven’t seen Ben this morning. He went out with friends last night, and my guess is, he’s still sleeping off the massive amounts of alcohol he drank. Mason brought him home, hammered, and I’m still thinking about his actions.

  Ben walked straight in and wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug before he kissed the top of my head and went to his room, shutting the door. It was strange but also the best moment of my life up until that point, completely replacing the day at his parents’ house when I stripped and jumped into the pond.

  As soon as his door shut, I looked at Mason, who was staring at me with his eyes narrowed and an unreadable expression on his face.

  “What?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing,” was his gruff reply.

  I just shrugged.

  Guys are weird.

  “Okay, little pupper, you talked me into it. I’m going to tell them,” I say as I come back to the present.