Just Exes

by Charity Ferrell

  “Maybe she can …” He stops to take in a breath of oxygen from his tank. “Maybe she can help you get through it.”

  “No one can.”

  He only gives me a slow nod, and I leave the room. I don’t bother turning on my light, changing my clothes, or taking off my shoes as I fall onto my old twin-size bed. Endless thoughts on an array of topics rush through me. I consider asking Lauren to move out, consider running back to Chicago until justice happens, consider telling her everything.

  As much as it pains me to admit, Lauren might be the only person capable of bringing me in a few steps from the darkness, but I can’t do that to her. I won’t. It’s not only for my protection from getting hurt again, but it’s also to protect her from getting involved with someone so fucked up. I moved home, hoping to go back to the chill guy I had been before, and I’m waiting for that to happen.

  Not sure if it ever will though.

  My phone goes off, and I fight myself on whether to look at it.

  I regret it as soon as I do.

  Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Sierra. I got your number from my brother’s phone. Let’s get together sometime this week and catch up. ☺

  My phone beeps again with a picture.

  It’s her in lingerie.

  Shit.

  I quickly delete it.

  The last thing I need is Kyle being mad at me for fucking around with his baby sister.

  Fuck this day.

  Nineteen

  Lauren

  His mouth felt so familiar.

  Comfortable.

  Warming.

  I brush my fingers over my smiling lips. They feel different—plumper, lighter, more alive. His walking out on me shouldn’t have me grinning like a cheeseball, but I can’t stop myself.

  Does your body remember someone’s touch as intensely as your brain remembers your memories with them? Our kiss felt different from those I’ve had with meaningless men. My skin tingles, wanting more of him everywhere.

  That cheeseball smile is still on my face when I grab my phone and flop down on the couch, fully prepared to call Willow and scream out my frustrations, but I don’t. Instead, I open my texts and hit his name.

  My heart races like I’ve been sucking down caffeine on a quick work break. Now that I’ve experienced grown-up Gage kisses, I want everything from him.

  Is it desperate to text?

  Yes, probably.

  I should wait until tomorrow.

  Do I care at this moment? Hell no.

  His kiss lit my world on fire, and I need more. The problem is, what can I say that won’t result in an eye roll … or a possible restraining order from him?

  My goal in my text will be to make him remember what we had.

  Me: Your kisses are amazing. Good night.

  I put my phone down and get up to make a cup of tea. My phone chimes as I’m walking back to the couch. I take a sip of tea before looking at the screen.

  Gage: That kiss brought up everything I’d wanted to forget.

  Cheesy smile growing.

  Me: Maybe you should stop trying to forget.

  Gage: Maybe you shouldn’t have left me.

  Cheesy smile gone.

  Here we go again.

  His answer has made it clear. Nothing more between us will happen from that kiss.

  The more I’m around Gage, the more I want to fix him, and from the looks of it, that’s the furthest thing from what he’s looking for. Now, I understand why Gage stayed away for so long. The pit in my stomach is feeling the pain he must’ve felt from wanting someone he couldn’t have. My breathing quickens, and from his response, I know I can no longer stay here.

  Me: I’ll be out by tomorrow. You won’t have to keep fighting to forget me.

  Is it an idle threat? I’m not exactly sure.

  I walked away from Gage for a reason—a damn worthy one, one I saw as selfless. I gave away my happiness, so someone else could have light. Since he’s been back, the urge to explain to him why has never been stronger, but I can’t.

  It’d ruin him.

  It’d ruin someone else.

  I slide out of the comfort of the couch at the sound of a knock on the door, and my bare feet stomp against the floor. I turn on the overhead light and peek out the window before answering.

  It’s Gage.

  He’s pacing back and forth.

  His gaze fixes on me as soon as I swing the door open, and my heart sinks as I take a good look at the man in front of me.

  Unease lines his handsome face as he presses his fist to his lips and blows out a long breath.

  “Are you trying to fucking ruin me?” he bites out.

  My lungs constrict. His words chill me to the core.

  It’s not me Gage is fighting.

  He’s fighting his fears.

  The fear of my hurting him.

  The fear of him hurting me.

  Fear that rekindling our relationship will drive him out of Blue Beech again.

  That means I need to bow out of our living situation.

  “No!” I blurt out. “That’s why I’ll leave. We’re only hurting ourselves, getting close, spending time together, and dragging out old feelings that should’ve died with our teenage years.” I step out and cup his cheek. “I’ll leave, so you don’t have to again, and then it’ll be easier for us to get over each other.”

  His chin trembles under my hand. “Get over you?” he scoffs. “Is that what you think I want, Dyson? You think I want to get you out of my head and lose you again?”

  I pull away and throw my arms up. “Yes! We’re playing a childish game. You push me away but not enough that I’m out the door, and then you pull me back in. We’ve been dancing to this song since you came back to town. I’ve grown up. My heart has grown. I’m more mature, and in that, I know when to stop following my heart and listen to my brain.” I lower my voice. “I don’t want us to end on bad terms again. Consider this saying good-bye mutually, and we’ll both smile and wave next time we run into each other.” I take a step back when the first tear falls down my cheek. “Good night.”

  “Don’t leave,” he says, nearly a whisper, and his arm darts out to stop the door from shutting.

  I freeze in place, and his eyes are glassy when we make eye contact.

  “What?”

  “I’ve lost enough people in my life. I’m fucking terrified of losing you again.”

  I lose a breath when his lips hit mine again, rougher, pleading. I gasp when powerful hands grip my hips, and I’m pushed back into the loft. The door slams with the kick of his heel, and my head spins as I’m picked up and set on the table.

  Oh, hell yes.

  Twenty

  Gage

  My head is cursing my heart, fighting with my dick, and screaming what an idiot I am.

  This.

  Her.

  Us.

  Has the ability to ruin me.

  My dick throbs when she wraps her legs around my waist to pull me closer. I pause and force us to make eye contact before this goes any further.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” I whisper, skimming my fingers over her jawline.

  She bites into her bottom lip after I brush a single finger over it and then smiles. “I don’t want to sound like a cheeseball, but damn, you’re beautiful, too.”

  I respond by tilting my head down and kissing her again.

  Passionately. Brutally. Carnally.

  A kiss that makes up for the millions we’d lost.

  The sweet taste of her mixed with cinnamon hits me when she slides her tongue in my mouth, stroking it against mine, and I hiss when she rocks her hips, brushing her heat along my jeans-covered erection.

  “It’s been too long,” she says, pulling away. “Please, Gage, I need you inside me now.”

  Desire pumps through my veins, but I force myself to shake my head. “We haven’t had enough fun yet.” For years, I’ve imagined the thrill of tasting and touching every inch of her body before sliding into
her sweet warmth. A quick fuck isn’t how I want this to go down.

  “You inside me will be plenty of fun,” she snaps. Her demanding tone only turns me on more. “Let’s save the extracurricular activities for another time. I need this, Gage. We need this. Right now. It’s been too long.”

  How the fuck can I say no to that?

  She curls her hand around the bottom of my shirt and drags it over my head. It gets tossed on the ground at the same time I go for hers. My mouth watered when I noticed the faint tips of her nipples through my tee the other day. I’ve been salivating to taste them.

  Her back arches when her chest and dark pink nipples are exposed to me. I tip my head forward and circle my tongue around the tight bud. She inhales a deep breath when I capture one between my lips and suck hard.

  My knees feel weak when she goes to work on lowering my pants. My dick springs free, fully erect and aching for her. There’s no missing her annoyance when I step back at the same time she reaches for my dick. I grip her ankles and run my hands up the soft skin of her tan legs.

  “I’ve been waiting to see all of you again,” I whisper.

  “Gage,” she gasps when I pull her ass to the end of the table and slide her shorts off. “Don’t make this some dramatic, soap-opera shit. Screw me, and then we’ll do the whole foreplay thing on another occasion.”

  Another occasion.

  Is that a guarantee of another night together?

  Excitement burns through me at this happening again.

  Her petite body is on full display. A beautiful exhibit I’d forever pay anything to see. I’d give my money, my heart, and my sanity for just a glimpse of this every damn time.

  She licks her lips and rubs her thighs together before I spread her legs.

  “One lick, and then I promise you’ll have all of me,” I say, maneuvering between her hips and sinking my nails into her skin. I ignore her protests of disapproval while lowering myself and resting her thighs on my shoulders.

  Her heels sink into my back at my first taste.

  Well … my first taste in years.

  “Holy shit,” she breathes out.

  She tastes divine, sweet, like perfection, all wrapped in one. I plunge my tongue inside her while my finger goes to work on her clit. My one-lick plan has shattered.

  Okay, maybe three licks.

  Her frustration turns into pleas, begging for more of my mouth while she wiggles beneath me. I give her that and more by thrusting a finger inside her while still sucking on her pussy. She moans when I add another finger and reach up to play with her nipple again.

  I don’t stop until I feel her falling apart as her body shakes, and her pussy clenches against my fingers.

  Her chest heaves in and out as she comes down, and determination sets on her face. “Inside me right fucking now.”

  No more fighting this.

  No more delays.

  We’ve been holding out for too long.

  I wipe my mouth and claim hers when I stand up, allowing her to taste herself before situating myself between her legs. I stroke my shaft, wrapping my hand around the head, and just as I’m about to give us what we both want, it hits me.

  “No condom,” I say with a groan.

  “I’m on the pill. I’m clean.” She slams her hips forward, her wet opening sliding against my dick, causing me to grunt.

  “Me, too.” I pause and chuckle. “Clean, I mean. Not on the pill.”

  She laughs. “I’ve already suggested the doctors start looking into that for men.”

  I arch a brow, my hold on my dick tighter. “I thought you needed me inside you?”

  “I do.”

  I drop my hold. “Then, take me.”

  My head falls back when she grabs my dick in her hand, and I take a deep breath while staring at it, not wanting to miss a glance of her carefully placing my cock at her entrance.

  “Slide into me,” she says, tilting her hips up.

  I tighten my fingers around her waist, and with one hard motion, I am inside her.

  Hot damn.

  She feels amazing.

  She takes all of me in one thrust.

  And, just like our kiss, we give in to each other and make love.

  Passionately. Brutally. Carnally.

  She feels like paradise, and her juices slip down my thighs as I pound into her.

  “God, I missed you,” I bite out, watching her tits bounce as she meets each thrust. “Missed this.”

  She runs her hand across my six-pack. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

  Surprisingly, I don’t stop when she finds the mark on my side and runs her fingers along the scar tissue.

  My response is to continue our game of giving and taking.

  We fuck like we can’t get enough of the other, and I get swept away, inside her. Inside us. I’m at the top of the world when I know she’s close.

  I have her on the brink again.

  She’s going to cum around my hard cock.

  And I’ll be doing the same inside her pussy.

  Bare. Raw. Nothing between us, whether it be latex or problems.

  Nothing matters, except our love and lust for each other.

  Fuck. Did I say love?

  All my thoughts shatter when her legs shake around my waist, and she lets out a long moan before screaming out my name. Perspiration covers my chest as I fuck her until my back goes straight, and I let myself go inside her.

  It takes us a moment to catch our breaths.

  Even longer for me to calm my heart.

  She presses a kiss to my chest, and every muscle in my body tenses when she reaches down and brushes her hand along my scar.

  “This,” she says, her breathing still catching. “What’s it from?”

  I gulp and rest my forehead against hers. “Work accident.”

  She nods, and the room goes eerily silent.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, tapping her temple.

  “That was … impulsive.” She blows out a breath. “I’m trying to figure out if we made a mistake.”

  She thinks this was a spur-of-the-moment, lapse-in-judgment fuck?

  “You decide and let me know,” I say against her hair before kissing it.

  “That’s your answer?”

  “Dyson, anytime I’m with you is never a mistake. That’s how I feel, but you have to make that decision on your own.”

  “You don’t … you don’t regret this? You hate me.”

  I pull away and rest my hands on her still-shaking legs. “I’ve wanted to hate you for years, but I can’t. My heart won’t allow it.”

  She grins, which causes me to grin back.

  “And don’t fucking smile like that.”

  She doesn’t stop. “What?”

  “You know what.” I lightly tickle her side. “You always liked it when I was wrapped around your little finger.”

  “You were never wrapped around my finger. You were a good boyfriend. Nothing like my friends’ boyfriends who would brag about every base they hit with them, and then the girls would get slut-shamed while the guys would get high fives. You kept everything we did between you and me. You respected me.”

  Yet she didn’t respect me enough to be honest.

  I hold my response in, and her legs are wobbly as I help her down from the table. Nearly every piece of furniture in here has been sex-broken in by us when we were teens, except this one until now.

  I make sure she’s stable and grip her hips when she leans back against the table. “You ready to sleep in my bed now?”

  She reaches down to link our hands. “Only if you join me.”

  I allow her to lead me to the bed and watch as she rips the blankets down. She flips the light off, and we quietly slide into bed. It feels comfortable when I pull her into my side, like she’s always belonged there and a missing piece of myself has been put back in place.

  “That better than expensive-ass piano sex?” I ask, squeezing her side.

  She laughs and snuggles in clos
er. “Much better.”

  Twenty-One

  Lauren

  Waking up next to Gage is a high I never want to come down from.

  Sex might complicate our situation, but I don’t regret it.

  Sex with teenage Gage was amazing.

  Sex with grown-up Gage is nothing like I’ve ever experienced.

  That doesn’t mean I’m not scared.

  Sometimes, history shouldn’t be dug up.

  One thing is for sure; history repeated itself in the sex department.

  Never have I felt something so intense and intimate as what I feel with him—every single damn time.

  I turn on my stomach and rest my palm on his chest, looking up at him. “Good morning, landlord.”

  He chuckles and sleepily looks down at me. “Morning, beautiful.”

  “I have to say, I didn’t think this would ever happen again.”

  He reaches down and cups my ass, sending shivers down my spine. “Never has a truer statement been made.”

  The sight of Gage, naked and in bed with me, is breathtaking. I would be a woman on top of the world if I could do this every morning. It sounds so easy for us to go back to what we were before, and I’m ready to take that step if he is.

  Ready for this to become a lifetime thing.

  I reach up and trail my fingers over the stubble on his cheek before inhaling a deep breath of courage and closing my eyes. I open them and stop myself from saying what needs to be said.

  Not this morning.

  Expectations ruin moods, and I want this good time to last for as long as it can.

  “Was this … is this …a one-time thing?” he whispers, taking the words from my mouth.

  Shit.

  “Can we not talk about expectations and just enjoy this morning?” I ask, my hand venturing under the blanket and grabbing his erect cock. “I know of a better way to spend our time.”

  His hand cups mine, an attempt to stop my hand from pleasuring him. “Before we do, I need my breakfast.”

  Even though he’s cut off some of my power, I stroke him the best I can under his touch. “You’re a breakfast-in-bed guy, huh? In that case, you might need to run to your house because all I have is cereal here.”