Jersey Girl (Sticks & Hearts #1)

by Rhonda James

  "What do you mean? My girl needed me, so I came running." He gives his shoulder a shrug as if it's no big deal. He truly has no idea how big a deal it is to me.

  "You came running just so I wouldn't have to eat alone?" I shake my head at his reasoning.

  "Of course. I'll always come running for you." He nudges me with his elbow before running a hand through his hair. I look up, meeting his eyes, and see the sincerity within them. This right here. This is what a true friend looks like. I stretch out my hand and stroke the smooth skin of his cheek, not giving a thought to how it may appear to those around us.

  "My very own Superman," I whisper, and he smiles at the superhero reference. "Thank you. This means so much to me."

  "No problem, Dimples." The tip of his finger brushes down my nose and continues until it reaches the divot in my cheek. I love his affectionate nickname, and he usually saves it for special moments. Moments like this. His slings an arm around my shoulders and leads me to the counter to place our order. A lot of words are spoken before he hands the guy his credit card.

  "Did you seriously order one of everything?" I ask as we take a seat at the nearest available table.

  "Not everything, but I think it's safe to say we're going to need a lot of space for our food. You said you were hungry."

  We make small talk for a short time while they prepare our food. In the meantime, I keep sipping on my lime Batido. It's amazing and creamy, and I'd seriously live on these if it weren't for the fact I'd be gaining twenty pounds. When they bring our food, it takes three people to carry it out. I burst out laughing after they walk away.

  "Ask and you shall receive, my queen." He gives a mock bow and reaches for a plantain. When the flavors of garlic and cilantro meet my tongue I moan my appreciation. "Be careful over there. A guy can only take so many of those moans before his mind gets away from him."

  "Ohmygod, you really need to stop talking about sex." I squirm uncomfortably in my seat, and it doesn't help his body is pressed so close to mine I can feel the heat from his skin burning straight through my jeans. "I swear, for someone who's vowed to keep our relationship platonic, you sure like pushing the boundaries of our little agreement." I smile coyly at him. "Did you know there's a link between the reaction a woman has to sex and good food?"

  "Is that so? Do tell." His eyebrows dance with interest as he leans even closer.

  "Um hmm. In fact, some people believe food is the ultimate aphrodisiac." When I'm finished talking I take a plantain between my fingers and slide it back and forth between my lips before biting into the creamy center. Now, he's the one squirming in his seat. In fact, he adjusts himself a couple of times after I repeat the move with a few of his fries.

  "Shit, Cassie. You need to stop, or I'm gonna say fuck the rules and take you back to my bed," his deep voice growls in my ear, and when he speaks, his lips tickle my flesh. "I don't want to mess up our friendship with sex, so just eat without making it sound like a porno and everything will be okay. Sound good?" I think I would have been fine if he had stopped there, then his lips press against my neck, and he leaves a trail of hot kisses down my shoulder before shoving a fistful of fries in his mouth as if nothing ever happened.

  "You're going to pay for that one day." I ruffle my hand through his hair and steal a fry from between his fingers.

  "I don't mind being indebted to you," he mumbles under his breath.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  BRANTLEY

  Her body stills next to mine, visibly affected by what I've just admitted. If someone were to ask why I made that statement, I'm not sure how I would answer. I like Cassie. I mean, she's great fun and the only thing she's ever asked for were a few hours spent teaching her something that comes naturally to me. She never expected my friendship, at least not the one developing between us. To be honest, I think what's happening has taken us both by surprise. When her text first came through tonight, I'd been heading out the door to join the guys over at Skeeps. My decision to ditch those plans and come here hadn't required any thought. I knew she was hurting, and the thought of her sitting here alone didn't sit well with me. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself opening the door to the restaurant. I spotted her right away, her blond hair spilling down her back in loose curls. The look on her face when she saw me confirmed I'd made the right decision. She tried playing it off as if Scott's actions hadn't hurt her, but we've spent enough time talking for me to read between the lines. He'd hurt her, again. I can't bring myself to believe he's deliberately trying to crush her spirit, but I see it taking place. Many times I've wanted to tell him how badly he's hurting her, but I know Cassie wouldn't want that. She wants him to realize it on his own, and I'm trying to respect her wishes, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy with them.

  "Did you get enough to eat?"

  "Yeah." She sucks down the rest of her shake and belches. For such a tiny thing she achieves substantial volume. Out of habit, I bring up my hand and she meets me in a fist bump, then we both cut loose with laughter. Just like that, the sexual tension dissipates and we're back to being us, which is fine with me. I'm not sure I can handle any more temptation before I finally cave. The kiss we shared the other day is still imprinted on my lips, and I have a feeling the desire to kiss her again isn't going away any time soon.

  Looking over the uneaten food, she pushes away the basket of plantains and rubs her flat belly. "I don't think I'll need to eat for a week."

  We're clearing the table when Scott and Ashley appear outside the restaurant. Walking outside, I'm quick to pick up on Scott's surprise at finding me here, though he recovers before Cassie catches on. I throw up my hand in a wave and brace myself for an interrogation.

  "Hey, man, what are you doing here? I figured by now you and Masterson would be surrounded by bunnies and throwing back shots." He takes a half step and we meet for that one-armed hug that men do. "Cass, you still up for that movie?"

  "No. I think maybe... Wait, yes. Yes, I'm up for it." She shifts her gaze between us before finally landing on me. "What do you say, B? Care to join me for two hours of guaranteed action-packed entertainment?"

  Right now, the battle between my head and my dick is pretty fierce. The thought of sitting beside her in a darkened theater for that amount of time gives me all kinds of ideas. On one hand, it means more time with her, but our little incident at the table gives me pause, and I know more time is probably the last thing we need right now. I'm about to give a lame excuse as to why I should head back to my apartment, alone, when she tilts her head and flashes me her dimples. Just like that, I'm a goner.

  "Please?"

  Aw, hell. How can I say no to that? So I let out a hasty breath and utter the very words I've been trying to bite back.

  "I'd love to."

  ***

  The theater is packed when we enter, and a quick surveillance of the room tells me we'll never find four seats together. Cassie grabs hold of my forearm and balances on the balls of her feet to try and get a better look around. Her lips tip up in a brief smirk before changing into a frown and turning back to Scott.

  "Bummer. Looks like we'll be better off splitting up." She hooks a thumb over her shoulder and gives my arm a tug. "We're heading this way." Scott simply shrugs as Ashley pulls him in the opposite direction to find the only seats left at the front of the theater. She watches them go before turning back to me. "God, I thought they'd never leave."

  I chuckle, despite the knot forming in my stomach. Two hours.

  How the hell am I going to make it through two more hours without this girl getting to me?

  The only empty seats are in the back row, and just my luck it's a row that contains only two seats. We settle in, and my leg begins to bounce nervously. I can't get the taste of her out of my mouth. A few kisses on her neck and I'm salivating like a fucking dog. I sneak a sideways glance, and she seems completely relaxed, as if she doesn't have a care in the world. Shit, maybe I've lost my touch. This is the same girl who rubbed herse
lf all over me without knowing who I was. The same one who begged me to fuck her and I'd turned her down. Maybe my rules have finally killed any desire she once had. But if that were the case, why'd she allow me to tongue fuck her the other day? I'm sweating bullets, and she's cool as a cucumber. If I don't pull it together, I'm going to blow a nut in my seat.

  Rules... Yeah, I just have to reacquaint myself with them.

  No naked study sessions. Okay, that one doesn't help. It doesn't even apply here.

  No sex. Right. Got it. I repeat those two words a few times in my head, trying to make them stick. Great, now all I can think about is sex. And not just any sex. Sex with her. Sex with the most amazing girl I've ever met.

  God, I'm such an asshole.

  "Do you want some popcorn or something?" All of a sudden my throat feels dry. "I need something to drink." I stand abruptly and wait for her response.

  "No thanks, I'm good." She peers up at me with big doe eyes, and my traitorous dick immediately reacts. I nod in response, because it's all I can fucking manage at this point, and then bolt for the door.

  Once I'm in the lobby, I sink against the wall and look up at the ceiling. Shit, what the fuck is wrong with me? My best friend is less than a hundred feet away and all I can think about is banging his kid sister. If he had any idea what's going through my mind he'd have my balls in a vice.

  I grab a soda and a bag of popcorn. I'm not hungry, but when the kid behind the counter offers it, I say yes without thinking. I carry my stash back to our seats and settle back in. The movie's already started, so her eyes are fixed on the scene. I stash my drink in the cup holder and instinctively hold the popcorn out for her. She palms a handful, never taking her eyes off the action taking place on the big screen.

  We're forty-five minutes into the movie and James Bond has already slept with four women. So much for not thinking about sex. During these scenes, Cassie leans closer and rests her head on my shoulder. Every few minutes, a whimper slips through her parted lips, and I have to adjust my junk. The scene really appears to affect her, and when she reaches over and links her fingers with mine, I relax for the first time since arriving.

  When the credits start rolling, she stretches her tiny body over the armrest and brings her soft lips to my cheek. "Thank you for staying with me tonight. You turned what would have been a shitty evening into one of the best nights I've had in a very long time."

  I swallow hard, knowing if I were to move my head two inches our lips would meet again. Is it worth the risk? And what would it even mean? I'm not looking for another relationship. But isn't that what a girl like Cassie deserves? She'd never agree to anything less. And why should she? Do I even deserve to have her lips on mine? Plenty of guys on campus would kill for the opportunity to hold her in their arms. To wake up next to her every morning. Or lose themselves inside her every fucking night. Why is she even wasting her time on a guy like me? If I cross that line I'll only end up breaking the very spirit I've been fighting so hard to protect.

  "You're a really great friend, B," she whispers softly. I respond by lifting our joined hands and tenderly kissing the back of hers.

  "You're a pretty great friend yourself," I tell her, and the word friend nearly chokes me on its way out.

  This is good. This is what I wanted. In my room later that evening I try saying it out loud to see if it makes me feel any better.

  Cassie Rivers is my friend. Nothing more.

  I throw in that last bit for good measure. I find saying them out loud doesn't make me feel better. In fact, saying them out loud makes me doubt their truth even more.

  ***

  The next morning I'm in the kitchen, leaning back in my chair with my fingers laced behind my head, attempting to listen as Rivers rambles on about his current dilemma. It's not that I don't care about his situation. Well, maybe I don't, but the point is I have other shit on my mind and his incessant droning makes it impossible for me to focus. I can't stop thinking about this shit with Cassie. Our relationship is confusing as hell. One minute, we'll be talking about last week's game, and then we're talking about sex toys and I'm kissing her neck. The fact we can shift from one subject to almost making out scares the hell out of me. If we keep this up, I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to hold it together. A man can only take so much before he finally cracks.

  "Shit, man, my mom's going to chew me a new asshole over this. Cassie's first performance is tomorrow afternoon, and I promised to be there. Now she knows I'm going to miss it because of this family event with Ashley. And let me tell you, she made it perfectly clear at the movies last night that she's pissed." He pulls at his hair while pacing anxiously back and forth. "What am I supposed to do? I mean, it's kind of a no-brainer, right? If I tell my mom I'm not going, she'll be pissed at me for a few days, tops. If I tell Ash I can't go to Ohio for her parents' anniversary party, she'll cut out sex for a week, maybe even longer. Fuck that, I'm not about to go down that road."

  "Yeah, wouldn't want to risk going a whole week without getting your ego stroked," I reply, sarcasm dripping from every word. I've heard him complain about being cut off one too many times. Those stupid-ass games are just one of the reasons I've fought to avoid the pitfalls of a relationship. You make your heart vulnerable and someone's bound to get hurt.

  "What would you know about going without? Your dick's seen more pussy than most guys' on campus," he angrily retorts.

  I roll my eyes at the exaggeration and lean forward in my chair. I've spent four years on this campus, and one exaggerated rumor spread like wildfire. Now I'm known as a pussy magnet. He knows me better than anyone, yet somehow he still holds onto that gossip like it's the gospel truth. "Don't believe everything you hear."

  "Dude, it's kind of hard when I can hear them screaming their appreciation in the middle of the night. Hello," he points to the hallway, "our rooms are less than twenty feet apart."

  "Last year maybe," I reply hoarsely. "Face it, buddy, it's been months since you've had to endure that kind of torture." He narrows his eyes and ponders my words, only offering a shrug of his shoulder to indicate his acceptance of my statement. Given the fact that I've been spending so much time with his sister, and how I really don't want him bringing that up, I quickly change the subject. "So, what's it going to be?"

  "I guess I don't have a choice. I'll have to call up Ash." He rises from his chair and starts down the hall, probably going to hide and grovel. All of a sudden, he stops, turns around, and gives me the widest grin I've ever seen on a human face. "YOU!" He points a finger at me as he slowly approaches. "I don't know why I didn't think of it before. It's perfect." He smacks his palm across his forehead and continues grinning.

  "What's perfect? And wipe that grin off your face. You're starting to freak me out."

  "Cassie adores you." He throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. "Who better than my best buddy to come to my rescue? This is genius." He drops his arm and struts around, proud of himself for coming up with a solution to his self-made crisis.

  "No way, not happening," I cross my arms over my chest and feign annoyance. Truth is, I'd be honored to go and support her. She never asked if I wanted to attend; she probably assumed I wouldn't be interested. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love listening to her play, but I've never seen her perform in front of an audience. All the times she's played for me have been when we were alone.

  "Why not?" He crosses his arms.

  Why not? I want to scream at him. How about because she's your sister, and she came to this school to be closer to you. Yet all you do is find ways to avoid spending time with her. Don't you realize how lucky you are to have her in your life? I want to scream all of this at him, but I know it won't make a difference.

  "Because I have plans." It's a lie, but he doesn't need to know that.

  "Come on, Cage. You know if the tables were turned, I'd be there for you."

  I decide if I'm going to do this, I may as well benefit from it. "If I'm giving up
a date with a hot chick, then what do I get in return?"

  "My undying appreciation." He looks over and sees the firm set of my jaw then quickly adds, "And I'll get Ash to hook you up with one of her roommates."

  I mull it over, my brain scanning over the list of Ashley's friends. Honestly, there's not a single one I'd agree to date, but I don't tell him that. "Deal, just make sure it's not that chick Marshall tapped last month. She gave him a nasty case of crabs." I laugh and remember how Marshal had looked ripping off his cup and digging at his junk.

  "Cage, I think it goes without saying that my sister isn't one of your conquests. Got it? I don't want you touching her, or trying to kiss her, and I most certainly do not want you fucking her. Am I making myself clear?"

  "What the hell? You make it sound as if I treat women like a piece of meat." A playful smile tugs at the corners of my mouth when I think about Cassie. It's a good thing he hadn't been there to see the look on my face when she licked salt off my body, or if he knew whose face I picture every morning when I rub one out. If he had a clue about any of those things, he wouldn't be asking for my help.

  "Cage," he threatens in a low growl.

  I throw my hands up and feign defeat. "I hear you. I promise to be a perfect gentleman. I'll attend her performance and even buy her flowers if that makes you feel better."

  "That's all I'm asking, man. Thanks."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CASSIE

  Today is Saturday, November 14. I know this not because I've bothered to look at a calendar in the last few days, though it does come up every time I open my phone. I know this because today is my recital. The day I've been preparing for, staying up late for, playing my heart out over for the last six months. Ever since the day I sat in that park and penned this very song I'm about to showcase. Is it my best work? Probably not. Would I choose to play it if I had something else in my bag of tricks? That's a difficult question. Am I proud of the way the arrangement turned out? You bet your ass I am. I have no doubt it's a great piece. I only wish I'd written it after meeting Brantley.