Hook Up (Taking Chances Book 2)

by TC Matson

  I sigh, placing my hand in his, and allow him to pull me to my feet. I sway slightly and he steadies me by my hip. He chuckles. “How much have you had to drink?”

  I nod. “A lot.”

  THIRTEEN

  A familiar feeling of regret knots my stomach as I blink the foreign ceiling into focus. My head throbs, a splitting pound that I feel in the gums of my mouth. I take a deep breath to face my nightmare but am met with a sexy bergamot scent—crisp and fresh. The one I’m all too familiar with…

  Oh no.

  The bed is empty, except for the rest of the navy-blue comforter and gray pillows that are untouched. I pull the sheet to my naked chest as I sit up and take my surroundings. The room is dim, thanks to the long dark gray curtains, simple and modern, and the walls are tan, bare of art or pictures.

  Wrapping myself with the throw blanket at the end of the bed, I look around for my clothes, but something else catches my attention. Shiny things…such a typical girl. Seven expensive looking watches neatly line the corner of his dresser, most of them still in boxes with the lids up to display. I drag my finger around the face of the one I saw him wearing the other day. If I had these watches, I’d flaunt the hell out of them. Put them on a pedestal with flashing strobe lights and neon arrows pointing to them.

  The clearing of a throat causes me to jump. I snatch my hand away like I’ve been caught stealing and clutch my chest. Spinning around, Cody stands with a cup of coffee in his hands and amusement in his eyes.

  “Dammit, Cody. You can’t keep sneaking up on me like that.”

  His brow arches and his gaze skims down my body. “Especially when you’re contemplating stealing my watches. Right?”

  I roll my eyes. “I didn’t realize you had so many.” And I didn’t realize I was obsessed with them all of a sudden.

  He hands the coffee to me. “Figured you’d want this.”

  The steam warms my face before I take a sip. I look away, glancing to the bed. Did we have sex last night? What the hell happened?

  Cody pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear and ducks into my vision. “Do you feel the ache between your thighs this morning?”

  I shift. “No.”

  “Then you know we didn’t have sex,” he says as if he’s privy to my thoughts. As he reaches beside me, his forearm grazes my thigh and it sends a bolt of electricity through my limbs. He pulls out a shirt and a pair of gym shorts from a drawer. “You can wear these. My shorts will swallow you whole, but you’re more than welcome to them.”

  Everything is awkward and tense. If we didn’t have sex, how did I end up in his house and in his bed naked? “Where did you sleep?”

  “Couch.”

  My head flinches back. “I kicked you out of your bed?”

  “No. I put you in my bed and walked my ass to my couch.”

  “Why?”

  His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, my eyes tracking the movement. “You’re handsy as hell when you’re drunk and knowing how good your pussy feels wrapped around my cock, I figured it would be safer to sleep on the couch instead of being the only one half sober. Especially after you decided to strip naked.”

  I smile a little goofy at his sweet morals, wishing like hell more men were like him. I wouldn’t have had nearly as many one-night stands as I have. “Thank you.”

  He lifts his brows as if to say, “you’re welcome” and then turns on his heel to exit the room. After getting dressed, I run through my morning shame routine. I find his toothpaste and finger brush my teeth, and then I grab a washcloth and wash my face of makeup.

  His house is beautiful. Nothing like what I pictured him living in. I thought for sure he was like Nathan and lived in some fancy penthouse, a condo of some sort of luxury. Instead, he’s surprised me with a regular house with a high-end feel.

  As I step off the bottom step, Cody sits at the kitchen island to my right looking down at his phone with his cup of coffee in front of him.

  He smiles when I sidle up next to him with my coffee in hand. “I stole some of your toothpaste and borrowed a washcloth.”

  “If you need to take a shower, you can.”

  I shake my head and study the kitchen. The cabinets are white, accented with gray handles the same color as the countertops. Where we sit is opposite—charcoal gray cabinets under the white granite. It’s…simplistically stunning.

  “Your place is beautiful.”

  Pride swells in his eyes as he looks around. “Home sweet home.”

  “I’ve always pictured you living in a fancy penthouse,” I admit.

  He scoffs. “Not my style. You hungry?”

  The air is still stale, and I don’t like it. This isn’t the way Cody and I operate. “No.” I drop my view to the coffee in my hands. “Thank you for…everything. I hope I wasn’t too much of a Debby Downer.” I know I put on a good front for Brooklyn, genuinely happy and excited for her, but as the evening continued, I felt my resolve breaking. I remember excusing myself from the wedding and hiding away inside of the house with a bottle of wine. Past that…it’s hazy.

  “Nah. You were good. Once we left the wedding, you wouldn’t stop laughing.”

  “Where’s my dress?”

  He juts his chin past my shoulder and I follow his line of sight to the living room where the pink fabric drapes across the armrest of the tan loveseat. My heels are placed neatly under it along with my purse. I slide off the stool and fish my phone out of my purse to call Uber.

  “I’ll take you to your car,” he says behind me.

  “You’ve done enough. I don’t want to disrupt—”

  “I’ll take you,” he interrupts sternly. “I don’t mind.”

  There’s a kaleidoscope of emotions saturating his green eyes and before I can study it, he blinks and it morphs into heat, the darkness spreading out to the outer edges of his irises. My body reacts, my stomach fluttering as desire aches between my legs. My nipples harden underneath the fabric of his shirt, and because I don’t have a bra, they’re announcing it. His gaze slides down. Sexual electricity ricochets from me to him, him to me, shocking me every time it bounces. It travels across my skin, over my body…

  I’m falling in love with him and I shouldn’t feel this way. I want him. Everything about him—the sex, the sweetness, the banter, his scent, his looks—I want it all. I need to get away, run as fast as I can.

  “I need to go home,” I’m breathless and I hate I’m exposing my truth.

  The argument is evident in his expression. His gaze flares. “You could stay for a little while.”

  We wouldn’t have time against us like we did on vacation. We could take our time, tasting and teasing, learning. He could strip me of all my defenses and pluck the strings to my heart…

  “I need to go.”

  His stare darts between mine for a long pregnant minute. “I’ll get my keys,” he responds woefully.

  * * *

  Cody doesn’t live far from Nathan, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for it. After I cock blocked us, the quietness was excruciating. Cody was in his head and I sat in the passenger seat trying to get out of mine and into his. Which is a horrible idea considering I’m not just thinking with my head anymore. I thanked him again for taking care of me and for bringing me to my car. He nodded, but he looked broken. It took everything I had not to climb over the center console to confess my sin of loving him.

  As I shut my front door, I drop my dress to the back of the chair, toss my purse and keys to the cushion and fall face first onto the couch just as my phone begins to ring. Groaning without budging to move, I try to find the strap to my purse and haul it toward me to grab my cell.

  “Hey,” Shyla greets. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You disappeared last night and your car was still at Brooklyn’s this morning when I got there to help clean up. But then I had to leave to get some trash bags from the store and when I got back it was gone.” Her tone is laced with skepticism and accusations. “
Where are you?”

  “Home. I had a lot on my mind and too much to drink last night so I called Uber.”

  I can lie to a stranger and never bat an eye. A stranger doesn’t have my trust or my love and I owe them nothing. But my friends, the two I consider sisters? Lying to them feels like I’m ripping a piece of my soul or like tearing little squares from paper.

  “Funny. Cody disappeared too.”

  Great…

  “Did he?” I try sounding surprised.

  “Where did you two go?”

  “Why would you think I left with him?” Deflection at its finest.

  “What did you two do?”

  “Nothing.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie. “Why do you think we did anything?”

  “Would you say the same thing to my face?”

  Oh, she went for the kill. She knows I can’t look her in the eyes and tell an effective lie. But since she’s not here, I’ll drown myself in the white lies until I’m ready to confess my sins to her like a confessional.

  “Of course, I could. Because nothing happened,” I reply with conviction because it’s the truth. Nothing happened.

  There’s a knock on my door. “Prove it.”

  My heart hits my chest so hard it hurts. I pop up from the couch, looking at my clothes—Cody’s shirt and shorts. No way she’ll believe nothing happened last night. “Give me a second. I’m naked.”

  I’m three sprint-lengths down the hall when she says, “Stop. Turn around and open the door.”

  “Are you trying to see my vag? Are we comparing lips now?” I try humor as I move further down the hall.

  “If you don’t open this door in five seconds, I’ll use my key.” I hear them jingle.

  “You don’t play fair at all,” I mumble, heading back to the door.

  She titters. “I have to be a step ahead of you sometimes. Now open the door.”

  “Fine.” May as well get this over with. I jerk open the door and instantly Shyla looks me over. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She pushes past me. “Oh, girl. We’re talking.”

  She pulls out a chair from the kitchen island, hops onto it and trains a scrutinizing eye on me.

  Knowing I need to tell someone before I explode, I give in. “I’ve royally fucked up,” I admit.

  “Start from the beginning.”

  And I do, telling her everything that happened in Florida and not sparing her any details. The more I tell, the wider her smile becomes and the farther her mouth gapes. I explain the wedding and how I was happy for Brooklyn but miserable for myself knowing she’d understand. How Cody found me, and got me out of there…

  “Please don’t tell Nathan or Brooklyn. I know we don’t do secrets, but I’m begging you to hold onto this one until I figure it out.”

  “Do you like him? Like truly like him?”

  My face falls into my hands. “I do. And I shouldn’t. He’s so…Cody-like.”

  “Which is what you’ve always liked since you’ve met him. He’s charming.”

  Tilting my head slightly, I purse my lips at her. “He’s a womanizer and I fell right into his trap.”

  “I don’t know if that’s so true anymore. We used to hear vague morsels of information. We haven’t anymore. And instead of going in hunt of fresh females in Florida, he was home…” Her lips curve up. “We know he likes to have fun and he doesn’t stick around afterward, yet with you he keeps coming back. Brooklyn said he spent last week at your house nursing you back to health. I don’t know what constitutes a womanizer in your book, but it seems to me he’s dropped that role.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  She laughs. “Yours.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “I think you and Cody would be perfect together. Hell, I’ve seen it. But I think you’re too scared to love.”

  My eyes are going to roll out the door at this rate. “I’m not scared. I’m just not ready.”

  “You can’t control when love happens, Ams. Your mind may not be ready, but your heart may say differently.”

  “But I can control how much time I spend around him. I plan on staying away and getting the hell over it. I’m infatuated. That’s all. Sex with him was mind-bending. And he smells good, kisses like a god. We have great conversations and I like his humor.” I realize I’m rambling and clear my throat. “I’ll be over this soon.”

  “Just admit it.” She stares at me with her “tell me everything” stare that always twists my arms to cave.

  “I’m falling for him.” The words rush out, shocking the shit out of me. “And I don’t want to.”

  “In my opinion, you and Cody complement each other. You two balance one another’s wildness while adding a flame to it. Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, you know he’s perfect for you.” She slides off the stool, pulling her purse strap over her shoulder. “I’ll keep this to myself for a little bit, but I think you’re doing yourself an injustice. Quit overthinking and let your heart lead. Last time you let your brain lead the way, you ended up hurt thinking it was right.” She kisses my cheek. “And if you need to talk, you know I’m right here anytime.”

  I nod and then see her out. I know I say I love her, but right now, I’m not very happy with her making partial sense. I needed her to tell me how I’m right, how it’ll never work out, and how my vag was leading the way. Not that my thoughts are holding me back.

  FOURTEEN

  One foot in front of the other. That’s my mantra as I walk up the steps to Brooklyn’s house and knock. I haven’t seen or heard from Cody since last weekend. I’ve been a mess trying to forget our fling and analyzing everything, from the way he makes me feel to the way I do feel. But I came to a conclusion that he and I would end up like dynamite—disintegrated.

  When I saw his SUV in the driveway, my pulse spiked into panic mode and I debated turning around and leaving. That thought alone is the reason he and I can’t be anything. We’ve only had two rounds of incredible sex and I’m already trying to bail on my friends. Who knows what would happen if we got serious and fell apart.

  Brooklyn opens the door beaming. “Fashionably late as always.”

  Her skin is darker, tan from her honeymoon. Her brown hair is pulled into a side ponytail resting on her shoulder.

  “Time and I don’t have a good relationship. It’s always running away from me.”

  She giggles as she steps out of the way and lets me in. “Shyla’s outside.”

  Knowing Cody is here somewhere, I make a beeline through the house and out the French doors. Shyla slides a sangria to me with a knowing smile.

  Day drinking…yay.

  “How was your honeymoon?” I ask, crazy to find out. It’s been a whole week since I’ve seen or heard from her—the longest we’ve ever gone without talking.

  Stars appear in her eyes. “Italy was so beautiful. We stayed in Rome in a resort with a stunning view of the city and we did a lot of sightseeing and shopping.”

  “You better have a shit ton of pictures to show us.” I tip my chin toward her phone.

  The doors open, just like they normally do every Saturday when Nathan tells B goodbye, but the way Shyla’s eyes flash behind me before screeching toward mine, has my heartbeat in my ears.

  Nathan kisses Brooklyn at her temple. “We’re about to head out. Need anything?”

  “Ladies,” Cody’s velvety, baritone voice hits me like lightning.

  It shoots straight down my spine and I jerk out of my seat like I’m on fire. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back,” I blurt as my nerves rattle to the top.

  Keeping my head down, I don’t look at Cody as I rush past him and into the house, basically sprinting to seek shelter from the storm. Slipping into the bathroom, I lean my back against the door, trying to slow my breathing—slow inhale, slow exhale. Jesus. When I said I was going to keep away from him, I didn’t mean I’d run away like he’s the one holding the damn dynamite. This is idiotic as hell, finding refuge in the bathro
om, and it’s a first for me. I face my fears—head on and most likely with humor lacing my tone. Cody has me acting like a terrified feral alley cat.

  Once I hear the front door open and close ten minutes later, I pull my pride out of my ass and head back to the girls.

  Brooklyn eyes me with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Yep.” I pop the P. “I needed to pee. Bad.” I’m a fucking idiot.

  Shyla’s brow arches as she watches me with mirth. I tell her to shut up with my eyes as I gulp down half of my sangria.

  Thankfully, Brooklyn dives back into her honeymoon and goes into detail about every single one of her bazillion pictures. They’re gorgeous—from ancient history ruins to vibrant colors, magnificent statues by Michelangelo, charismatic homes and haunted brick buildings.

  It’s official. I will be going to Italy before I die.

  Keeping routine in our “round the table” conversations, Shyla talks about Brady, and how since Brooklyn’s wedding he’s been different, more loving. He’s brought up the subject of kids, but she told him she wanted to wait a little longer and just enjoy being able to still like her body and sleep.

  And now it’s my turn… Knowing Cody and I are like a stick of dynamite with a long fuse destined to explode into nothing, I’ve come to a different conclusion… “I think I’m ready to start dating again,” I announce over my wine glass.

  Shyla’s mouth drops open as the surprise of my words crosses her face.

  Brooklyn squeals with a clap. “It’s about time. I hate your hookups. You’re too good for them.”

  “You think that’s a good idea? I mean, are you ready?” I hear the hidden message in Shyla’s question.

  “It’s time for him to get out of my mind.” I squint at Shyla. “Get over the hurt and move forward.”

  “I think you should follow your heart and focus on you. Get out of your mind.” Shyla argues with our secret conversation.

  “So, you’re done with one-night stands?” B asks.

  “Yes. I want more than that, a connection emotionally and not just physically.”