The Forever Girl

by Jill Shalvis

  Normally, he needed caffeine or an early run to kick his brain into gear. But Maze and her wild bed-head hair, which was also her just-had-sex hair, did it for him. “What—”

  “Shh!” she whisper-yelled at him, waving a hand behind her, which he supposed meant to shut the hell up.

  He wasn’t much of a follower and rarely did as he was told, but he did indeed shut up, because she was in a T-shirt and . . . he wasn’t sure what else. It was light gray and oversized and had been washed so many times it looked soft and buttery, clinging to all her curves.

  She was cold.

  He was enjoying that—which, note to self, was better than any caffeine in the land—when she opened the door a little bit more and leaned out, looking left and right. The T-shirt rose up a little bit, exposing a pair of black silk bikini panties, which had also risen up some, giving her world-class ass a wedgie.

  He’d had his hands and mouth on that ass. He’d bitten it. He’d squeezed it. And for one glorious night, it had belonged to him.

  But far more important, he’d belonged to her.

  It’d been a feeling like nothing he’d ever experienced. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually been someone’s. Actually, he could count the times with two fingers: Caitlin’s family, in which he included Heather, and . . . Maze.

  “Who are you evading?” he asked. Please say Jace . . .

  “Heather. She’s on a new get-fit kick, starting this morning apparently, and wanted me to run with her.”

  Maze thought running was the devil. She clearly caught sight of something, or more likely someone, coming down the hall and quickly and quietly shut the door before pressing her hands and forehead to the wood and letting out a soft laugh.

  He slid out of bed. Normally, he slept in nothing, but he’d learned that in this house it was dangerous, so he’d worn knit boxers to bed.

  Maze gasped in surprise when he came up behind her, not leaving any space between them. Setting his hands over hers on the door, he pressed up against her back.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, voice soft and breathless, turning him on even more.

  Good question. He’d gotten out of bed for a reason, but hell if he could remember it with her ass snugged up to the only part of his body that was fully awake. “Well, I am the ruler of your universe.”

  “You said not today.”

  Her T-shirt had slipped off one creamy shoulder, inviting him to lower his head and nuzzle the spot.

  She moaned at the touch of his mouth and the sound went straight through him, heating him up. He turned her to face him and waited until she looked at him with hunger, letting out a needy little whimper that nearly had him doing the same.

  She pressed closer to him and he whispered her name.

  “I know,” she murmured, and slid her hands into his hair before yanking him to her. Her mouth landed on his and for a moment he utterly and completely lost himself—which never happened. He was aware, always.

  But Maze obliterated every single survival instinct he’d developed. Always had.

  When they were both breathless, she pulled back and stared at him. Then they dove at each other again, and in zero-point-five seconds she was wrapped around him and he had his hands inside those silk panties. “You always smell so good,” he said, mouth on her collarbone, working his way south.

  She shook her head as her hands roamed over him, setting him on fire. “Less talking. More action.”

  They kissed again and his eyes crossed with lust.

  “It’s just one week,” she whispered against his mouth. “We’ve almost survived it. We got this, as long as we remember that.”

  He stilled and pulled back. “Remember what exactly?”

  “That this isn’t real. Vacay feelings are never real.” She looked at him like she couldn’t imagine what was wrong with him that he wasn’t following what she was saying. “We’ve only got a few days left before we each go our own way. Which with us is definitely for the best. Besides, I’m a one-and-done at best anyway.”

  “A one-and-done,” he echoed slowly, dropping his hands from her and stepping back. He had to. Apparently, he couldn’t touch her and think at the same time.

  Her feet back on the floor, she had her hands spread out on the door on either side, like she needed the help to stay upright. “Why are you surprised?” she asked. “We talked about this on day one when we declared a truce until after the wedding.”

  “A lot has happened since then.”

  “It’s been a week.”

  “It’s been years,” he countered. “And you’re not a ‘one-and-done,’ Maze. Not by a long shot. Not for me.”

  She stared at him, then slowly let out a breath and shook her head. “We already tried it the other way. It didn’t work out.”

  “We were young and stupid.”

  “Yeah, well, some of us are still stupid,” she said, pointing to herself. She straightened her T-shirt and gave him one last look filled with both dazzling, erotic hunger and exasperation. Then she shook her head like she still couldn’t believe he’d messed this up for them and slipped out of the room.

  It took him a minute to gather himself and cool down parts of his body. He thought about going back to bed, but sleep wasn’t going to happen, so he pulled on some jeans and left the bedroom, seeking a shower.

  Someone had beaten him to it.

  He waited outside the door for his turn, but whoever was in there didn’t seem to be in a hurry. He knew that later was some fancy lunch at a restaurant in San Luis Obispo near where Dillon worked because his coworkers were throwing him a wedding shower. Caitlin apparently didn’t like any of Dillon’s coworkers, therefore she’d decreed they all had to go as well to keep her company.

  Fine. He could use a distraction both from what had just happened and from wondering when Maze was going to sign the papers.

  And if it bothered her or hurt her to do so . . .

  Just like whoever was in the shower, he was in no hurry to get the divorce. It was important to him that it be Maze’s decision, not his. As for what he wanted, well, that was simple. He wanted to never be hurt like that again. His whole life he’d been forced on people. He wasn’t going to force anyone to love him.

  But that kiss . . . Damn.

  Moving down to the end of the hall, he looked out the open sliding glass door to the upper deck to take in the morning and found something totally unexpected.

  Heather and Jace kissing.

  Heather broke free with a gasp at the sight of him. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She covered her eyes. “See, this! This is why I can’t have secrets. I never learn! And now she’s going to kill me. I blew the secret.”

  “Which secret?” Walker asked dryly. “The one where you and Jace have a thing for each other, or that Jace and Maze aren’t really together?”

  Heather winced. “To be fair to Maze, the first one might be my secret, not hers.”

  “This isn’t on you,” Jace told her, rubbing a hand up and down her back while watching Walker. “It’s on me.”

  Walker shook his head. “Oh, I think you can both share the blame with a certain redhead.”

  “Are you mad at me?” Heather whispered.

  Mad? That the woman he wanted beyond all reason or logic or sanity was in fact not involved with someone else? “I’ve never been mad at you.” He proved it by hugging her to him, studying Jace while he did.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” Jace said, “I deserve it.”

  “You should’ve waited,” Walker told him over Heather’s head. “Maze had you here with her for a reason.”

  “You don’t understand.” Heather pulled back and looked up at him earnestly. “I kissed him. I did it because Maze had already admitted that she and Jace are only friends. She said he was one of the best men she knew and that I could do a whole lot worse. And we both know I have done worse, so . . .”

  Walker shook his head. “This isn’t any of my business. As lon
g as you’re good, I’m good.” He looked at Jace, who wore an expression that said he knew he was going to get no such free pass. “So to clarify,” Walker said, “you and Maze aren’t—”

  “Aren’t. Never have. Never will,” he said. “We’re good friends and we work together. I’ve got her back, no matter what, but I have her okay on this, so maybe you can stop planning my murder now.”

  “I was never going to murder you.” Walker paused. “Maybe cut off your balls and force-feed them to you, but you could’ve survived that . . .”

  Jace looked like he was just managing to not cup said balls protectively in his hands.

  “I’m so sorry,” Heather said to Jace. “I know I jumped the gun. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, especially without asking first.”

  Jace smiled. “Are you kidding? It was the best thing to happen to me in months.”

  Heather smiled back. “So . . . we’re okay?”

  “Very,” Jace assured her. “And as soon as my pretend girlfriend and I have a talk, I’m hoping maybe you’ll even kiss me again.”

  “You do realize what I am, right?” Heather asked. “A single mom who’s a hot mess almost all the time?”

  Jace ducked a little to look her in the eyes. “I like you exactly as you are. Look,” he said to Walker, “I don’t know too much about what you and Maze have been through because she’s so private, and I’d never pretend to speak for her, but I’d bet you everything I’ve got that she’d lay her life down for you, for all of you.” He’d met Walker’s gaze straight on, earning him some serious points. “So maybe you can try to understand what she did and why, and find a way to . . . I don’t know, start over?”

  Walker nodded, message received. For years now, he and Maze had been circling each other. Their pull, no matter how far apart they were, was strong. Their one night together had irrevocably changed things between them. They knew the power of it now, and as much as he hated to admit it, it’d scared him into retreating. His retreat had been physical.

  Maze’s retreat had been emotional. She’d shut him out.

  He missed her. He turned to go, but Jace stopped him. “I might not know how to rip out a guy’s gonads and feed them to him, but I’ll figure something out if you hurt her again.”

  “Again?” Walker asked, not worrying about the threat. He was glad Maze had someone who cared so much. “When the hell did I ever break her heart?”

  Jace shook his head, like Walker was a huge idiot. “Man, if you don’t know, I can’t help you.”

  MAZE RECEIVED A text at the exact moment someone knocked on her bedroom door. Fresh out of the shower and wearing only a towel, she dripped water everywhere as she glanced at her screen first.

  Her heart stopped.

  JACE: He knows.

  Another knock. It was Walker—she could tell by the implied impatience.

  Shit. “Give me a minute!” she yelled. Panic blocked her air passage as she frantically thumbed out a return text for Jace.

  MAZE: He knows???????? What do you mean he knows??????

  The bedroom door started to open. Leaping to it, she pressed her spine to the wood and, sliding down to sit on the floor, held it closed with her back as she stared at her phone, willing Jace to text her back.

  “If you’re trying to get ahold of your boyfriend,” Walker said through the door, “he’s busy getting his tonsils sucked out by Heather. Open up, Maze.”

  “Hold on!”

  “Tried that.”

  And then it was out of her hands. The door cracked open. Yes, she was sitting against it, but Walker easily pushed her across the smooth wood floor enough to squeeze through the opening he’d made for himself. Then he shut the door and crouched low in front of her.

  With an undignified squeak, she dropped her phone and very nearly her towel. He caught the phone for her but didn’t even attempt to help her save the towel.

  Grabbing it herself, she readjusted and then glared at him, her wet hair dripping down her shoulders, giving her a chill. Actually, the chill might be coming from her life. Caitlin was getting married. Heather had a baby. Walker had a career. They’d all moved on from the tragedy of their youth and losing Michael and had gotten themselves real adult lives.

  And what did she have? A silly lie she’d told everyone about having a boyfriend.

  Walker was looking at her, gaze serious now. Intense. “Truth,” he said. “Are you scared of us?”

  “Of course not,” she said, a big, fancy lie that made her shiver.

  He rose and grabbed a second towel from the bed, coming back to wrap it around her shoulders, pulling it tight to her, the backs of his fingers brushing her collarbone, giving her a body shiver for an entirely different reason.

  They stood there sharing air, watching each other.

  “Okay, tough girl,” he said. “Let’s have confession time.”

  “Or not.”

  “I’ll start,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m scared.”

  She scoffed. “Right. Nothing scares you.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said, eyes serious. “I’m scared of a lot.”

  “Like?”

  “Like something happening to Cat or Heather. Or you,” he said in a way that made her swallow hard. “I don’t think I could survive that.” He paused. “Now you.”

  “Okay.” She drew a deep breath. “So . . . I’m not dating Jace.”

  “And?”

  “And? I just gave you a huge confession. Isn’t that enough?”

  “No. Scoot over.” When she didn’t move fast enough, he maneuvered her himself, his big hands on her hips sliding her six inches across the floor to make room for himself. He sat next to her, his long legs out in front of him, both of them leaning back against the door.

  “Who told you?” she asked.

  “You.” And when she sighed, he said, “And I’ve suspected from the beginning.”

  She groaned. “It’s a good thing I never tried to be an actress. What gave me away?”

  “I got suspicious whenever he touched you. Your reaction was always to give a short little laugh, the kind of laugh you always use when you’re uncomfortable.”

  “I do not.” But a small laugh escaped and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “Dammit,” she said through her fingers.

  He grinned. “The grand finale was when I caught him and Heather in a lip-lock just now. So he’s either a first-class dick or you two were never together.”

  She groaned and slid her hand up to cover her eyes.

  Gently, he pulled it from her face.

  “He’s not a dick,” she said. “He’s a good friend. And actually my boss.”

  “Now see, that makes a lot more sense. Because there was no way he was into you that way, or you’d have seemed a whole lot more satisfied. Instead, you look . . .”

  She raised a brow.

  “. . . uptight.” He leaned in, and his mouth brushed her ear. “And you and I both know that orgasms don’t leave you uptight, they relax you into a boneless state of contentment.”

  She felt her face heat as memories flooded her. Them turning to each other for hours: him over her, under her, murmuring the sexy nothings in her ear as he’d taken her outside of herself again and again and again, until they’d been nothing but exhausted, sated husks of human beings.

  He took her hand in his. “Tell me what’s really going on, Maze.”

  She blew out a breath. What the hell, she had no pride left anyway. “I knew you were coming, and I also knew if you showed up without a date, I’d be tempted. Just like I always am.”

  She’d never seen Walker surprised or off-balance, but he was both now. He just stared at her, eyes a little wide, and she almost laughed. Nothing got past his guard, but apparently she just had.

  “You’re . . . tempted by me,” he said, heavy on the disbelief.

  “I thought you knew everything.”

  “Well, I didn’t know that.”

  She had to laugh. “I figured
the way I kissed you might’ve been a big clue.”

  He turned her, putting his hands on her hips to maneuver her to face him. Then he slid his hands up her body and into her hair to hold her still. “You’re tempted by me?”

  “You want me to say it again?” she asked, amused.

  “Hell, yes.”

  She stared into his blue eyes. “It started a long time ago but really kicked in when you flew me to Vegas.”

  “Where I got you drunk and married you,” he said, not looking happy with himself for that.

  “Hey,” she said. “I gave as good as I got. If anyone took advantage of anyone that night, it was me.”

  “I did try to resist you,” he said with a flash of amusement. “I’d been trying to do just that for forever. Clearly not hard enough.”

  “As I remember it, you were plenty . . . hard.”

  He laughed a very sexy laugh that made her extremely aware of what she was wearing. And what she wasn’t wearing. She let out a long breath. “Our bodies seem to have this weird . . . chemical reaction to each other.”

  “Yeah. It’s called simple animal magnetism. So on a scale of one to gotta have me now . . .” He shifted closer and ran a finger down her throat. “Just how tempted are we talking?”

  She shivered. “Three . . . -ish.”

  Lowering his head, he nudged the towel clear and kissed her shoulder. “Liar.”

  “Okay, a solid four.”

  His mouth found its way to the swell of her breast above her towel.

  She sucked in a breath and her head fell back a bit, giving him more room to work with, along with tacit consent. “Make that a twelve.”

  He let out a low laugh against her skin. “Maze . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s a whole houseful of people.”

  “And . . . ?”

  He cupped her face in his strong hands, and when his lips touched hers, the rest of the world faded away. It was insane how every nerve in her body pulsed with need, how she craved him, and she scooted in even closer, moaning as his hands headed southbound on her towel, which was an inch from revealing a whole lot of Maze.

  Walker groaned. “You’re gorgeous. And you’re killing me.”