Better as Friends

by Jimi Gaillard-Jefferson

  It made sense. Cash’s voicemails and texts weren’t the only ones I was ignoring. In fact, I should have expected her sooner. I walked to my desk and sat in one of the chairs that faced O’Shea and waited.

  She grinned. “If you don’t ask question, I can’t give you dramatic answers. Come on, Cahir. Play with me.”

  I almost smiled back at her. Almost. “How’d Guy take the news?”

  She brushed one hand over her stomach. Another over her necklace. “He already knew. Loser. But after dinner he took me to the Club and showed me what he could do with a knife and wax.”

  I winced. “Little sister, why do you think I wanted to know that? Lie to me. Hide things from me.”

  “Could I be?” She leaned forward. “Your sister, I mean. I’ve always wanted an older brother to annoy.”

  “I would have been if-It would have been fun. I thought that after you left. It would have been fun to have you as a sister. You would have been my favorite.”

  “Yes, I would have. Fine is my favorite. But he helped me rob a place once so I don’t think you should be jealous. But you could be. Jealous, I mean. It would be perfectly understandable.”

  No. It wouldn’t be. But like every other conversation I had with O’Shea, it was perfectly absurd. No matter how serious it was supposed to be. I tilted my head back and laughed. I laughed until I cried. Until I had to put my coffee and phone on the desk so I didn’t drop them.

  “What else should I ask you?” I dried my eyes.

  “The obvious.”

  She was having so much fun and I didn’t want to talk about the other thing. “How did you get in here?”

  “Well.” She let the silence between us build. I imagined her kicking her legs under the desk. “When you really get down to it, the problem with capitalist societies is that a small group of people hold all the resources and the wealth and once you know a few of them-”

  “Toots’s husband owns the building,” I said when I remembered that O’Shea managed to make friends with every monied woman over the age of sixty in the City.

  She stuck her tongue out at me.

  “Sorry.”

  “Yes. I’m sure you are.”

  I grinned.

  “Ask another.”

  “Why’d you break in?”

  “Because,” she kicked her feet up on my desk and laughed when I rolled my eyes. “It occurred to me that you were going to keep kicking me out, keep dancing around the real problem, keep avoiding all those lovely voicemails I left you until we addressed the secret.”

  I should have known. The easy smile I wore dropped off my face.

  “Aren’t you going to ask which secret?”

  Did she think I was an idiot? “No.”

  “Good. We are on the same page.” She took her feet off my desk and propped her elbows on it instead. “You’re in love with Cassidy.”

  I sit back in my seat. Mind fast, words slow. “How did you know?”

  And she smiles. Proud I didn’t waste her time with lies and denial. “I was there. When you came in for your first styling appointment. I stood in Delia’s loft and looked down at you and had the biggest feeling of deja vu I’ve ever experienced in my life. I couldn’t figure out why, where it was coming from. I went back to my studio instead of trying to stand there and figure it out, or making it obvious that I was staring at the two of you like idiots. I realized what it was a bit later. It was the same kind of… You know?” She waved her hands. “It was exactly what happened to me the first time I saw Guy. The same kind of daze. The same kind of confusion because all of a sudden reality was something different.”

  Well, that was nice. That she saw it before Cash or I did. That was fun.

  “I knew.” She grinned. Having fun. “And you came back too much. She went to your office just a few more times than she should have had to. But otherwise you two did a great job keeping it low-key. My sisters don’t know.”

  Relief made my shoulders sag.

  “Was that it? You didn’t want us to know?” She tilted her head. “That hurts my feelings a little bit.”

  “You loved her.” I didn’t have to say Zion’s name. The mere allusion to her made something in O’Shea deflate. She looked down at the desk. “You loved her more than I did, and I didn’t know how I was going to breathe without her. How was I supposed to tell you that I moved from her to one of Delia’s employees? Delia’s only employee? What am I doing? Preying on you guys?”

  “Oh. Guilt. That’s stupid. We’re way too logical to blame you for who you fall in love with. And we like you. Remember? We like you a lot.”

  “I like you guys too.”

  “But I’m the favorite.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, kid. You’re the favorite.”

  “Now that we’ve established that for the second time-” She clapped her hands together. “To business. You want the baby or what?”

  “What if I don’t?” I took my first sip of coffee.

  The answer didn’t matter. Not really. I just needed time. Every time I saw O’Shea it was like I was being clubbed over the head.

  “I guess I’m going to be raising two kids. And figuring out a way to make you want to be involved even if you aren’t a primary caregiver.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “I’m pretty sure Guy would agree to it.”

  “Are you?”

  “He’s never told me no before, and I ask for some pretty outlandish shit.”

  “Wow.” I laughed. And then the laughter stopped. When would I ever tell Cash no? When would I ever not provide what she needed, what she wanted? “I love her. Cassidy.”

  “Yes. We’ve covered that part.”

  “No. No, we haven’t. Not really. I didn’t mean to. I fought it like fucking hell. She did too. For the record. She fought it as hard as I did. But when we were done fighting, the feelings were still there and she’s-” I threw my hands up.

  “Take your time.”

  So many words. But I wanted the right ones. I wanted to tell the truth about what Cash was for me. What she’d done to me. “She didn’t heal me. I did that. She didn’t make it possible for me to trust again. I did that. But she gave me what I needed to get to that place. She gave me a reason to get my shit together and my head out of my ass.”

  “I know that feeling.” She wrapped a hand around her necklace.

  “I love her so much that for a second my answer about whether or not I wanted a child depended on her, on whether she would stay. But that’s not fair. To me or the baby.”

  “You’re going to be a great father.”

  “Yeah, I am.” I pushed all the air out of my lungs. There it was. The truth. And I couldn’t look away from it “Fuck. I’m going to be a father.”

  O’Shea bounded around my desk and hugged me. “You’re going to be great. I’ll help.”

  “Will you?” I couldn’t keep the amusement off my face or out of my voice.

  “Of course. I’ll be a huge help. I’ll start by talking to Cassidy for you. As an advocate. After you tell her.” She grabbed her bag and rushed to the door. A little hurricane.

  “O- I don’t need your help.”

  She stopped. Her hand on the door knob. “Of course you need my help. You’re a man. And you have no idea what you’re going to say to her.”

  My coffee was cold. My laughter was warm.

  Twenty-Two

  Cahir

  “I rehearsed what I was going to say.” Cash’s voice was low. So low I thought I’d fallen asleep at my desk and dreamed it up. “I was going to be mean. Accusatory. I wanted a good fight.”

  She was tired. I saw that. Her make up was flawless as always but I saw the puffiness under her eyes. The way her hand shook when she brushed back her hair. A tremor.

  Sadness hits heavy and unwelcome. Because I did that. I made my friend worry. I ran from the woman I loved and didn’t think of what that would do to her. All that talk that I was better and I still ended up in the wrong place and
with the guilt of doing the wrong thing.

  “I thought,” she stepped further into the room. The setting sun made her brown hair an unnatural red. “I thought I would hurl insults. I thought I would puff up my chest and ask you who the fuck you thought I was. I thought I would curse and scream until your shame made you two inches tall and then I would go.”

  I wanted to hold her. I wanted to feel the heat and flash that flare to life every time my skin came into contact with hers. I wanted to tell her I was so sorry and that there was a simple explanation. But what’s simple about a baby with your ex?

  So I sat behind my desk, mouth closed, heart pounding.

  “What I would like to know is why,” she said. And the tremors stopped. She didn’t look so weary anymore. “Decide you don’t love or want me. Go back on your word. You’re a man. I’ll find the space to accept it if I can’t forgive it. But the silence. The avoidance. We’re friends.”

  Yeah. We were. And I would lose her if I told her. I couldn’t-The moment had arrived and in spite of everything that happened to me, in spite of the scars, I couldn’t open my mouth.

  “Do you know I don’t think I’d leave you? Because of the friendship. If you told me why, I would stay.”

  I couldn’t call her a liar. I couldn’t let out the panicked laughter that rose up in me. I couldn’t move.

  “Cahir.”

  Silence. Dank and thick.

  I couldn’t.

  And then she left.

  I sat in the dark with the absence of her and it clawed through me, clawed into me. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. And it would be forever if I didn’t get the fuck up out of my chair.

  Then I heard her words again. All of them. Really heard them.

  I took a deep breath and ran out of my office, down the hall to where Cash waited for an elevator.

  Cassidy

  “Cash.”

  I heard him when I left the office. I heard his stillness. I heard him when he stood. It was why I didn’t cry. He wasn’t going to see my tears. I would save them for home. For the place that didn’t include him anymore.

  I pressed the call button for the elevator and prayed to every goddess I could name that it would hurry. But Cahir’s legs were long. My prayer was half answered. The elevator whooshed open. Cahir stepped onto it with me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  He kissed me.

  I should have slapped him. I should have pushed him away from me. I should have wiped the taste of him from my mouth and remembered my pride was more important than my feelings. But that was a lie and Cahir tasted like home. Before I went back to an empty apartment I deserved to have a taste of home again.

  I stepped into his arms.

  The weariness fell away. The anxiety. I quieted the voices that told me that I shouldn’t, couldn’t do this, that the pain would be worse when it was over. A little longer, a little more. I pressed the emergency stop button. The elevator went dark except for one harsh blue light that ringed the ceiling.

  It was the right thing, or it meant something to him. His hands didn’t hold-they grasped. His mouth insisted. His body was flush with mine and the heat of him enveloped me. He was taking me to hell.

  And my God, what a journey. Familiar and smooth. Silken. Enveloping. The tug of hair and the stinging bite of teeth on lower lips. Knees wedged between thighs and pushed high to ride. Hands on belts, zippers, diving below waistbands until there was flesh. Sighs. Moans.

  Two fingers pressed inside me. Five fingers wrapped around him. The first orgasm was a wave in a violent ocean that had to be heard to be truly felt. So I screamed. High and long with no care for who might hear or come running. The second. For the second, my panties were ripped away. I dragged him with me into a corner and used the rail to lift myself up high and spread my legs wide.

  I thought he would step between my legs. He was heavy with me. Red with wanting me. Instead he fell to his knees and slid his tongue inside me. And oh-It was better than home. Better than pride.

  Fingers on my clit. His tongue probed. His face was wet, but he didn’t stop. And I couldn’t stop when I started to come. I wanted to. I wanted to stretch that moment out. I wanted him on his knees, mouth full of me, to be where I spent forever. What was heaven compared to that.

  Then he rose. He kissed me and it tasted like a promise he could keep.

  “No,” I said.

  He slid into me. As always my eyes took a moment to roll to the back of my head.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I can say that. Can you? Can you say what you need to?”

  I shook my head. This wasn’t about me. Wasn’t about my secrets.

  “I didn’t know how I was going to tell you.” His hips were slow when they worked him deeper inside me. “I still don’t. But then I realized you didn’t yell.”

  “I didn’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why did you come?” He pinched my clit. “Why did you want answers? Why didn’t you just leave me?”

  “No,” I said.

  “I need you to tell me.” Truth made his voice raw. Made his words sting. “Tell me so I can tell you why.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Yeah.” He moved faster. “I am. And a coward. I shouldn’t have done this to you. I shouldn’t have made you wonder. But I did. Tell me so I can tell you.”

  The hand that pinched my clit moved up to roll my nipples. To hold my jaw as he kissed me. To hold me in place when his onslaught began in earnest. And it was perfect. Perfect as summer nights or falling into an easy sleep.

  “Please, Cash. I love you.”

  And the truth of it was that I loved him too. Even if I ran from it the feeling was there, right there. As constant as breathing or blinking. As easy and as difficult as smiling. Loved him so much I trusted him. Knew that whatever took him from me for seven days wasn’t enough to hurt me, to break me, to break us. I meant it. I would stay.

  “I love you too.” I gave him the words and then I gave him my body.

  And he abused it. Pushed it. Pushed me until I fell into an orgasm that made my body sag and tears fall from my eyes.

  I cried out my love, his name, prayers and supplications to a diety without name until my body was still.

  Cahir smoothed down my dress and found my heels. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped between my thighs.

  I kissed him while he put himself back together and sighed when I was in his arms again.

  “I love you,” I said. “Tell me why.”

  “Tell me you love me again,” he said.

  I smiled into our kiss. “I love you. Tell me why.”

  His arms were tight around me. His lips on my forehead. “Zion is pregnant.”

  I didn’t hear the words right away. No. I heard them. And rejected them. Pregnant? Zion? Cahir? No.

  “Cash?”

  I looked at him. Blank. I must have looked like an idiot.

  “Cash? Say something.”

  “I ought to bust your face in with a brick.”

  Also by Jimi Gaillard-Jefferson

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  Zion, Nadia, Delia, and O’Shea have lives, dreams, and rich men who love them — but sex and money aren’t always everything! Four friends will become a sisterhood in this sizzling page-turner.

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  Sex and money aren’t everything but that doesn’t mean Zion, Nadia, Delia, and O’Shea can’t have both. It doesn’t mean they can’t have it all. But can they be satisfied with having all of their dreams come true? Is happily ever enough?

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  Delia, O’Shea, and Nadia find out what happens to women bold enough to have it all and face consequences that will change them, and their sisterhood, forever.

  Going to Hell

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  Tony and LeAndra

  Belong to Me

  Will king pin Tony quit the game for love? Will wealthy LeAndra give up her world to become a part of his? When their worlds collide sparks fly but so do tempers.

  Conquer with Me

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  Rule with Me

  Can two lost souls find their way back to love and live life the way they’d planned: happily together?

  Cassidy and Cahir

  Better as Friends

  He’s strictly off limits. His ex ruined his life. Before he can move on I have to be sure his past is truly behind him.

  Better than Your Ex

  She lost him. She thinks it’s over. She doesn’t know that he’s coming for her, that she’s the love of his life.

  Better as Lovers

  He agreed to give her time. She agreed to stay by his side. Can the couple who had a bright future ahead of them, find their way past the obstacles and build a better future together or is it too late?