Chapter Thirteen - America
The steam on the mirror also creates condensation on my palm. My skin is glowing and dewy from the quick shower. I glide my fingers over the lids of my Shea Moisture products lined up on the counter.
Running into Alfie was enough to overwhelm me. Seeing Gray kept the tears at bay until I was alone in the shower.
I cry a lot. I hate that my body’s response to literally everything is to cry. On the one hand it feels like I’m letting go of the stress that piles up on me every day. On the other I always feel like people must think that I am so incredibly weak to need to cry so much.
I try not to let them see me as weak. But Alfie surprised me today. I wasn’t expecting him to show up outside my silks class, and it put real fear into me. I hate conflict more than I hate crying. It makes my stomach turn and my heart pound. I get these crackling pins and needles like sensations all through my torso and into my fingertips.
I don’t know what I would have done if Gray hadn’t shown up and driven me home. I don’t want to think about it.
I unscrew the lid on my moisturizer and scoop out a small amount. I hum to myself as I smooth the cream onto my skin.
Gray is in my flat, making himself at home. I think he’s in the kitchen making coffee. Or checking out the book of Britain's greatest popstars we keep on the coffee table. Or snooping at the door of my bedroom to check out whether Everett has left any belongings here.
God, I hope he’s not searching for signs of Everett because it’ll probably end up with us in a fight. He knows where I live now, which means I won’t be able to avoid him if we do. And he really doesn’t like the idea of me and Everett.
Gray’s being overly cautious. Or he’s worried about his job. Or his heartbreak is coloring his opinion, because Everett hasn’t done anything to make me think he’s toying with me.
Of course Everett has a history. I do too. The only difference is that his is plastered all over social media. I’m sure it’s not as bad as Gray is making out.
Unless Gray is seeking me out and starting fights on purpose, knowing they will end with us in a tangle of limbs. Is he warning me away from Everett because he wants me for himself?
No, that’s wishful thinking. Daydreams. Pure fantasy on my part.
Wouldn’t he just say that instead of making a hullabaloo about Everett? It would be so much better than tracking me down to tell me that I shouldn’t be offended that he would never date me.
Except, he also gave me this hickey. I finger the mark on my throat. How does it make me feel?
Confused. Scared. Possessive. Yes, all three, jumbled together.
Could Gray be experiencing those same emotions? Could he be into me despite his denials? He’s not over Indy, but two rival emotions can exist in the same space at the same time. He could be into me and not over her. Just like I’m into Everett but can’t stop this thing between Gray and I.
He’s worried about my being hurt because of his heartbreak. He’s said as much. So how am I supposed to act around him now?
It’s much easier to be mad than vulnerable. It’s easier to have no hope than this thrum in my chest that feels like it could as effortlessly become tortuous as it could become giddy.
Either way, I best cover up the bite. It takes some concealing, but I manage to make it blend in a way that I can pass off as any old bruise if anyone else notices it.
Gray stands on the other side of the bathroom door when I open it. He has the sugar bowl in his hand, and he blinks hard like he was lost in thought. “I was going to make coffee.”
“Okay.” I tuck the end of my towel more securely at my boobs while he blocks the exit. He looks out of sorts.
“I know how you like your coffee. With that creamer. The almond one with the vanilla.”
“Right.”
“But then you didn’t have any in your fridge, and it made me think that maybe you’d changed the way you take your coffee.”
I have no idea where this is leading. “I—”
“Because people go from two sugars in their coffee to one. They switch the type of milk they like. They change.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m scared I’m too broken to change.” He drops the sugar container as he reaches for me. His hand slides around my waist; he tugs me to him as he steps in. His lips caress mine. “But I’m starting to want to.”
I yelp when he lifts me off my feet and presses my back to the wall while his tongue is in my mouth.
“Gray?” Coffee? Change? I don’t know what he’s thinking as he tugs at the towel, pulling it apart to expose my breasts. And I’m not going to ask when he takes a nipple between his teeth and flicks the tip of his tongue over the metal piercing it.
My head thuds against the wall, a moan slipping out of me as he loves on my breasts. My clit throbs, my pussy growing wetter the more time he spends on my nipples.
“Everett? He your boyfriend yet?” he asks as he lifts his lips from one nipple only to suck the other one between them.
“Mmm. No.” I haven’t seen him since we agreed to slow things down. How could I when Gray has preoccupied my time and almost all of my thoughts?
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I’m going to take you to bed, Rica. And you’re going to ride my face. If he was your boyfriend then we couldn’t do that.” He carries me out of the bathroom and into my room. That answers the question of whether he snooped. He tosses himself backward onto the bed with me still in his arms. “Climb up on my face now. Be a good girl and give me what I need. Your sweet pussy, dripping on my tongue.”
I scramble up until my knees are next to his ears. I’ve put on weight since I’ve been in the UK. Stress coupled with being homesick added some pounds. I have a flat tummy but my thighs are as meaty as my ass and as juicy as my breasts. I’m not the tiny, slender type he was used to.
“I said sit.” He wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me down firmly. “Don’t hover.”
“Mmm.” The first lick is exquisite on my sensitive flesh. It makes my hips roll involuntarily.
“That’s it. Grind down on me.” His words are muffled by my thighs, but they make my brain empty of anything but the way his tongue is exploring every nook and crevice of my pussy.
He thrusts it inside me and my eyelids flutter down. I need this. I grind my clit against his lips. When he catches it between his teeth and sucks, I rock on his face harder, chasing that pleasure with an obsessive need.
My body floods with heat.
“Play with your tits,” he growls. “You’re so sexy from down here. Show me how dirty you want to be for me.”
I massage my breasts, pinching and rolling my nipples while he stares up at me with those heated blue eyes. His grip on my waist guides me as I grind over him, until I’m hovering on that edge. One more swipe of his tongue sends me tumbling into the abyss. Falling forward onto my hands I cry out for him as I ride him and my orgasm to completion.
I scramble off him as soon as I’m done. He grabs my wrist and tugs me onto his chest. “You don’t hate it when I talk to you like that. You know I don’t think that you’re a slut or a whore. I don’t think that you’re any of the things—”
“It’s weird,” I admit. “Because I’ve heard it all in a negative way. It’s humiliating. Even today. You heard what he—”
He lifts his hand up. His knuckles are bruised. One of them is grazed. “I did.”
“But that… while you were… eating me. It gives me a rush and makes me feel sexy.” Sexier than I think I’ve ever felt in my life. It sounds stupid to not feel super sexy when everyone goes on about how fuckable you are, but most of the time it makes me want to hide my figure under bulky clothing. So feeling sexy for real… I could get used to that. I crawl down his body and unbutton his suit pants.
He lifts his hips so that I can pull them down and free his erection. We’ve fucked a few times, but this is the first time I get to explore. He has a beautiful cock. It rides tall against his abdomen, blushing a pretty color that shows off the veins.
He’s hot and hard as I take him in hand and stroke him. “It’s like you changed the power of the words. It makes me want to be an even bigger slut for you.”
Sucking my cheeks in, I gather saliva and spit on his cock before taking him all the way between my lips.
“Rica, fuck…” His hips jag as he thrusts in my mouth. “Damn, woman. I was not expecting…” I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft. He arches his neck and groans. “That. Oh God.”
I moan and let the vibration rumble up his shaft while I take him to the back of my throat. He made me feel so damn good, I want to make him feel good too.
His palm presses on the back of my head as he fucks my mouth without restraint.
“You’re the most beautiful little whore for me, aren’t you, Rica? You… taking me… I can barely control myself. Come up here and let me feel your pretty pussy clenched around me. I want to fucking fill you.”
Like he’s given them a command, my insides clench. I’ve never been so obedient in my life as I sit on his cock and bounce up and down. Gray makes me want to do whatever he tells me to. Makes me feel special in a way that I haven’t before.
“Fuck.” He grunts as he rolls me under him. Hiking my leg up to his shoulder, he forces his way in deeper, thrusting with such ferocity, scraping against all those sweetly achy places inside me.
My second orgasm is intense and overwhelming. It steals my vision. “Gray. Oh God. Oh fuck.”
“Fuck.” He groans as he spills inside me. Flooding me with his cum in hot, heady spurts. “Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.”
We collapse onto the mattress, a pile of sweat slicked limbs. He rests his forehead against my breast. “Why couldn’t I have met you first?”
I don’t remind him that he met me and Indy at exactly the same time. Or that it was so long ago that if he’d wanted something with me then it would have been beyond criminal, and I could never have felt this way about that kind of person. I’m not even sure that I was supposed to catch his words at all.
An alarm goes off. “What is that?”
“It’s my phone.”
The noise cuts out and is followed by multiple email notifications rapid fire landing in his inbox.
I find my breath. “You better check.”
“Yeah.” He glances up at me for a long moment before he climbs off me so he can access his phone. His eyes crease in the corners as he reads his screen. “I need to cancel lunch. I’m sorry. There’s a problem. Mikey Valance is in a signing year. And the Bears just picked up Luke Rooney instead.”
“It’s okay.” I’ve watched him work deals like magic tricks for years. He works his ass off to get the best contracts for his players. Sometimes things go south, and then all his focus needs to be on fixing them.
“It was supposed to be a done deal,” he says darkly while he tugs his pants over his hips. “This is the last thing I need.”
I pull on a fresh thong and some yoga leggings while he checks his appearance in the mirror inside my closet. Grabbing a bra, I cover up the girls and pull on the sweater hanging on the end of the white, iron bed frame. “Perhaps we can meet up later for drinks or dinner.”
“I’d love to, but if I can’t salvage this…” He narrows his gaze at my chest, and the light in his blue eyes dies. “What is that?”
I glance down at the sweater with the Cardinals logo on the front. “A sweater.”
“Show me the back.”
“Excuse me?” I frown. What on earth is his problem?
“Rica, turn the fuck around.” He stalks toward me. “Does that have Everett Mann’s number on the back? Are you wearing his number?”
“I guess.” I turn and show him the back, glancing over my shoulder to try and see it too. Everett gave me this sweater. It would make sense for it to be one with his number.
It still has a hint of his cologne, actually. It’s faded, but still there to my over sensitive nose. Under the stronger tones of cedar, lemon, and cloves of Gray’s fragrance.
“You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“He isn’t.”
“You’re wearing his fucking jersey.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” I stand my ground. He’s acting territorial. The independent woman in me balks at that, but a part of me wants him to tear my clothes off and throw me back on the bed even though he doesn’t have the time for what I want to do. Again. I hug the sweater to my body. “I just grabbed the closest thing.”
He reaches for the hem of my sweater. “Take it off. Or I’ll take it off for you.”
“No.” I step out of his reach.
He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut as he reaches up and tugs on his hair. The intensity in his eyes dissipates. “Fine. You’re right. Wear whoever’s clothes you want.”
“Fine.” I grab the hem and drag the sweater up over my head. “It’s off.”
Everything with him seems to be just another layer of confusion that I don’t know how to navigate. I can speak a half dozen living languages and can understand several extinct ones. My IQ is too high for this bullshit. I should be able to make sense of it. “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”
“Because…” He wraps his hand around the side of my neck and holds me in place. He brushes his thumb over my pulse point. He finally takes a deep breath that loosens his chest. “I want—”
A barrage of sounds come from his phone.
“Shit.” He walks away as he answers his phone. “Mikey…”
I grab another top and pull it over my head. Push the arms up to my elbows as he prowls my bedroom while speaking in a tone that takes no prisoners. His presence is commanding, his body language dominant. Watching him control all the elements—how confident he is— makes me want to sink to my knees for him. Again.
He hangs up.
His gaze settles on my sweater, which is stretched so tightly over my rose-gold bra that it shows through. His pupils dilate.
“Better?”
He rolls his bottom lip with his teeth and swallows whatever thought is on his mind. “I’ll call you once I’m done.”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay.” He hesitates until his phone beeps with yet another message. “I’ve got to go deal with this.”
“I’ll walk you out.” I follow him through the flat to the front door.
It feels like we didn’t really talk about whatever was bothering him before we crashed into bed. The stuff about change. It feels important in a big, big way.
I watch him search his pockets for his keys. “What did you mean you’re scared you’re too broken to change?”
“I just…” He takes a deep breath and dispels it. “I’m sorry, Rica. We should talk, and we will.” He kisses my cheek. “But I really have to go. Later. I promise.”
“Okay.” I’m a little disappointed as we step outside, but of course it can wait.
Everett smiles wide as he comes up the garden path. “There’s my girl.”
Running into Alfie was enough to overwhelm me. Seeing Gray kept the tears at bay until I was alone in the shower.
I cry a lot. I hate that my body’s response to literally everything is to cry. On the one hand it feels like I’m letting go of the stress that piles up on me every day. On the other I always feel like people must think that I am so incredibly weak to need to cry so much.
I try not to let them see me as weak. But Alfie surprised me today. I wasn’t expecting him to show up outside my silks class, and it put real fear into me. I hate conflict more than I hate crying. It makes my stomach turn and my heart pound. I get these crackling pins and needles like sensations all through my torso and into my fingertips.
I don’t know what I would have done if Gray hadn’t shown up and driven me home. I don’t want to think about it.
I unscrew the lid on my moisturizer and scoop out a small amount. I hum to myself as I smooth the cream onto my skin.
Gray is in my flat, making himself at home. I think he’s in the kitchen making coffee. Or checking out the book of Britain's greatest popstars we keep on the coffee table. Or snooping at the door of my bedroom to check out whether Everett has left any belongings here.
God, I hope he’s not searching for signs of Everett because it’ll probably end up with us in a fight. He knows where I live now, which means I won’t be able to avoid him if we do. And he really doesn’t like the idea of me and Everett.
Gray’s being overly cautious. Or he’s worried about his job. Or his heartbreak is coloring his opinion, because Everett hasn’t done anything to make me think he’s toying with me.
Of course Everett has a history. I do too. The only difference is that his is plastered all over social media. I’m sure it’s not as bad as Gray is making out.
Unless Gray is seeking me out and starting fights on purpose, knowing they will end with us in a tangle of limbs. Is he warning me away from Everett because he wants me for himself?
No, that’s wishful thinking. Daydreams. Pure fantasy on my part.
Wouldn’t he just say that instead of making a hullabaloo about Everett? It would be so much better than tracking me down to tell me that I shouldn’t be offended that he would never date me.
Except, he also gave me this hickey. I finger the mark on my throat. How does it make me feel?
Confused. Scared. Possessive. Yes, all three, jumbled together.
Could Gray be experiencing those same emotions? Could he be into me despite his denials? He’s not over Indy, but two rival emotions can exist in the same space at the same time. He could be into me and not over her. Just like I’m into Everett but can’t stop this thing between Gray and I.
He’s worried about my being hurt because of his heartbreak. He’s said as much. So how am I supposed to act around him now?
It’s much easier to be mad than vulnerable. It’s easier to have no hope than this thrum in my chest that feels like it could as effortlessly become tortuous as it could become giddy.
Either way, I best cover up the bite. It takes some concealing, but I manage to make it blend in a way that I can pass off as any old bruise if anyone else notices it.
Gray stands on the other side of the bathroom door when I open it. He has the sugar bowl in his hand, and he blinks hard like he was lost in thought. “I was going to make coffee.”
“Okay.” I tuck the end of my towel more securely at my boobs while he blocks the exit. He looks out of sorts.
“I know how you like your coffee. With that creamer. The almond one with the vanilla.”
“Right.”
“But then you didn’t have any in your fridge, and it made me think that maybe you’d changed the way you take your coffee.”
I have no idea where this is leading. “I—”
“Because people go from two sugars in their coffee to one. They switch the type of milk they like. They change.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m scared I’m too broken to change.” He drops the sugar container as he reaches for me. His hand slides around my waist; he tugs me to him as he steps in. His lips caress mine. “But I’m starting to want to.”
I yelp when he lifts me off my feet and presses my back to the wall while his tongue is in my mouth.
“Gray?” Coffee? Change? I don’t know what he’s thinking as he tugs at the towel, pulling it apart to expose my breasts. And I’m not going to ask when he takes a nipple between his teeth and flicks the tip of his tongue over the metal piercing it.
My head thuds against the wall, a moan slipping out of me as he loves on my breasts. My clit throbs, my pussy growing wetter the more time he spends on my nipples.
“Everett? He your boyfriend yet?” he asks as he lifts his lips from one nipple only to suck the other one between them.
“Mmm. No.” I haven’t seen him since we agreed to slow things down. How could I when Gray has preoccupied my time and almost all of my thoughts?
“Good.”
“Good?”
“I’m going to take you to bed, Rica. And you’re going to ride my face. If he was your boyfriend then we couldn’t do that.” He carries me out of the bathroom and into my room. That answers the question of whether he snooped. He tosses himself backward onto the bed with me still in his arms. “Climb up on my face now. Be a good girl and give me what I need. Your sweet pussy, dripping on my tongue.”
I scramble up until my knees are next to his ears. I’ve put on weight since I’ve been in the UK. Stress coupled with being homesick added some pounds. I have a flat tummy but my thighs are as meaty as my ass and as juicy as my breasts. I’m not the tiny, slender type he was used to.
“I said sit.” He wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me down firmly. “Don’t hover.”
“Mmm.” The first lick is exquisite on my sensitive flesh. It makes my hips roll involuntarily.
“That’s it. Grind down on me.” His words are muffled by my thighs, but they make my brain empty of anything but the way his tongue is exploring every nook and crevice of my pussy.
He thrusts it inside me and my eyelids flutter down. I need this. I grind my clit against his lips. When he catches it between his teeth and sucks, I rock on his face harder, chasing that pleasure with an obsessive need.
My body floods with heat.
“Play with your tits,” he growls. “You’re so sexy from down here. Show me how dirty you want to be for me.”
I massage my breasts, pinching and rolling my nipples while he stares up at me with those heated blue eyes. His grip on my waist guides me as I grind over him, until I’m hovering on that edge. One more swipe of his tongue sends me tumbling into the abyss. Falling forward onto my hands I cry out for him as I ride him and my orgasm to completion.
I scramble off him as soon as I’m done. He grabs my wrist and tugs me onto his chest. “You don’t hate it when I talk to you like that. You know I don’t think that you’re a slut or a whore. I don’t think that you’re any of the things—”
“It’s weird,” I admit. “Because I’ve heard it all in a negative way. It’s humiliating. Even today. You heard what he—”
He lifts his hand up. His knuckles are bruised. One of them is grazed. “I did.”
“But that… while you were… eating me. It gives me a rush and makes me feel sexy.” Sexier than I think I’ve ever felt in my life. It sounds stupid to not feel super sexy when everyone goes on about how fuckable you are, but most of the time it makes me want to hide my figure under bulky clothing. So feeling sexy for real… I could get used to that. I crawl down his body and unbutton his suit pants.
He lifts his hips so that I can pull them down and free his erection. We’ve fucked a few times, but this is the first time I get to explore. He has a beautiful cock. It rides tall against his abdomen, blushing a pretty color that shows off the veins.
He’s hot and hard as I take him in hand and stroke him. “It’s like you changed the power of the words. It makes me want to be an even bigger slut for you.”
Sucking my cheeks in, I gather saliva and spit on his cock before taking him all the way between my lips.
“Rica, fuck…” His hips jag as he thrusts in my mouth. “Damn, woman. I was not expecting…” I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft. He arches his neck and groans. “That. Oh God.”
I moan and let the vibration rumble up his shaft while I take him to the back of my throat. He made me feel so damn good, I want to make him feel good too.
His palm presses on the back of my head as he fucks my mouth without restraint.
“You’re the most beautiful little whore for me, aren’t you, Rica? You… taking me… I can barely control myself. Come up here and let me feel your pretty pussy clenched around me. I want to fucking fill you.”
Like he’s given them a command, my insides clench. I’ve never been so obedient in my life as I sit on his cock and bounce up and down. Gray makes me want to do whatever he tells me to. Makes me feel special in a way that I haven’t before.
“Fuck.” He grunts as he rolls me under him. Hiking my leg up to his shoulder, he forces his way in deeper, thrusting with such ferocity, scraping against all those sweetly achy places inside me.
My second orgasm is intense and overwhelming. It steals my vision. “Gray. Oh God. Oh fuck.”
“Fuck.” He groans as he spills inside me. Flooding me with his cum in hot, heady spurts. “Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.”
We collapse onto the mattress, a pile of sweat slicked limbs. He rests his forehead against my breast. “Why couldn’t I have met you first?”
I don’t remind him that he met me and Indy at exactly the same time. Or that it was so long ago that if he’d wanted something with me then it would have been beyond criminal, and I could never have felt this way about that kind of person. I’m not even sure that I was supposed to catch his words at all.
An alarm goes off. “What is that?”
“It’s my phone.”
The noise cuts out and is followed by multiple email notifications rapid fire landing in his inbox.
I find my breath. “You better check.”
“Yeah.” He glances up at me for a long moment before he climbs off me so he can access his phone. His eyes crease in the corners as he reads his screen. “I need to cancel lunch. I’m sorry. There’s a problem. Mikey Valance is in a signing year. And the Bears just picked up Luke Rooney instead.”
“It’s okay.” I’ve watched him work deals like magic tricks for years. He works his ass off to get the best contracts for his players. Sometimes things go south, and then all his focus needs to be on fixing them.
“It was supposed to be a done deal,” he says darkly while he tugs his pants over his hips. “This is the last thing I need.”
I pull on a fresh thong and some yoga leggings while he checks his appearance in the mirror inside my closet. Grabbing a bra, I cover up the girls and pull on the sweater hanging on the end of the white, iron bed frame. “Perhaps we can meet up later for drinks or dinner.”
“I’d love to, but if I can’t salvage this…” He narrows his gaze at my chest, and the light in his blue eyes dies. “What is that?”
I glance down at the sweater with the Cardinals logo on the front. “A sweater.”
“Show me the back.”
“Excuse me?” I frown. What on earth is his problem?
“Rica, turn the fuck around.” He stalks toward me. “Does that have Everett Mann’s number on the back? Are you wearing his number?”
“I guess.” I turn and show him the back, glancing over my shoulder to try and see it too. Everett gave me this sweater. It would make sense for it to be one with his number.
It still has a hint of his cologne, actually. It’s faded, but still there to my over sensitive nose. Under the stronger tones of cedar, lemon, and cloves of Gray’s fragrance.
“You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“He isn’t.”
“You’re wearing his fucking jersey.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” I stand my ground. He’s acting territorial. The independent woman in me balks at that, but a part of me wants him to tear my clothes off and throw me back on the bed even though he doesn’t have the time for what I want to do. Again. I hug the sweater to my body. “I just grabbed the closest thing.”
He reaches for the hem of my sweater. “Take it off. Or I’ll take it off for you.”
“No.” I step out of his reach.
He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut as he reaches up and tugs on his hair. The intensity in his eyes dissipates. “Fine. You’re right. Wear whoever’s clothes you want.”
“Fine.” I grab the hem and drag the sweater up over my head. “It’s off.”
Everything with him seems to be just another layer of confusion that I don’t know how to navigate. I can speak a half dozen living languages and can understand several extinct ones. My IQ is too high for this bullshit. I should be able to make sense of it. “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”
“Because…” He wraps his hand around the side of my neck and holds me in place. He brushes his thumb over my pulse point. He finally takes a deep breath that loosens his chest. “I want—”
A barrage of sounds come from his phone.
“Shit.” He walks away as he answers his phone. “Mikey…”
I grab another top and pull it over my head. Push the arms up to my elbows as he prowls my bedroom while speaking in a tone that takes no prisoners. His presence is commanding, his body language dominant. Watching him control all the elements—how confident he is— makes me want to sink to my knees for him. Again.
He hangs up.
His gaze settles on my sweater, which is stretched so tightly over my rose-gold bra that it shows through. His pupils dilate.
“Better?”
He rolls his bottom lip with his teeth and swallows whatever thought is on his mind. “I’ll call you once I’m done.”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay.” He hesitates until his phone beeps with yet another message. “I’ve got to go deal with this.”
“I’ll walk you out.” I follow him through the flat to the front door.
It feels like we didn’t really talk about whatever was bothering him before we crashed into bed. The stuff about change. It feels important in a big, big way.
I watch him search his pockets for his keys. “What did you mean you’re scared you’re too broken to change?”
“I just…” He takes a deep breath and dispels it. “I’m sorry, Rica. We should talk, and we will.” He kisses my cheek. “But I really have to go. Later. I promise.”
“Okay.” I’m a little disappointed as we step outside, but of course it can wait.
Everett smiles wide as he comes up the garden path. “There’s my girl.”
Chapter Fourteen - Gray
Those first few months after Indy left me, I went a little off the deep end. I quit my job, sold my condo, and found a corner of the world where I could lick my wounds. But all that did was give me far too much time to let the rot set in.
Indy left me. She fell for someone who wasn’t me. And she cut me out like I was the cancer in her life. She moved on with him.
Anger and hate settled in during that time I spent in a hut on the beach. And so did the booze. Until I woke up with a mouthful of sand and my head under water as the tide came in one morning.
Crawling my near-drowned, hungover ass out of the waves was only the first step. I had to get my head on right enough to beg for my job back when my bosses no longer had confidence in me, and my client portfolio had been divided up between the other agents I worked with.
In any sport, too much time on the bench with an injury—even a broken heart—can cost a career. I’m lucky I had a great track record for years prior. My bosses were willing to take that into consideration when they agreed to give me another shot.
I’m working as hard to rebuild my roster as I had to when I first started. And it’s as tedious and slow as it was back then. No one wants a rep they can’t be sure will be there when they’re needed. Contracting Mann would be a great step in the right direction. I need him.
As the soccer player struts toward us I grin and wave as I mutter under my breath barely loud enough for America to hear, “Not your boyfriend, huh?”
“I can see whoever I want to see, Gray,” America whispers back. “And I didn’t know he was coming over.”
He’s a brilliant soccer player. He has magic feet. But he also has an Instagram account that might as well be a champagne ad for the party lifestyle. Every image has a different beauty clinging to him.
And then there’s the things I’ve heard in the bleachers. He goes in hard and cools off quick. That might be okay for groupies, but not for a girl like America. She gets obsessive about things. And while I’ve never seen it I can’t imagine that also includes men. He’ll end up hurting her, intentionally or not.
I wouldn’t want any of my friends dating him. This is why I don’t want her to date him. Right?
Well, maybe my opinion is skewed. I don’t have any other friends I can’t keep my hands off.
She jogs over and hugs him with her whole body. There’s so much affection in it. Like he really is the boyfriend she wants. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
He lifts her off her feet to hug her tighter.
I glance down at my whitening knuckles, wrapped around my keys. At the bruising from punching that creep professor earlier. I feel like taking a shot at Mann too.
I’m not a fighter. There were a few times in college, during games where I’d lose my temper. But most of those fights were settled with a shove and a few hotheaded insults.
And there was that night when I picked up Indy and America from a nightclub when they were freshly twenty-one. America had been trembling so hard as they’d raced to my car with some drunk asshole on her tail. Indy had been flipping out and snapping at him to back off.
I’d fallen a little harder for Indy that night as I’d put myself between the girls and that idiot. The girl with the plan and the big heart and the bravery to face up to things that could hurt her. I was prepared to throw punches, but ultimately didn’t need to.
The last time that I almost hit someone, desperately wanted to, was the night my replacement brought Indy back to our apartment covered in Jell-O.
Recalling that slimy, disgusting, chunky, vomit-like shit all over her… It’s enough to make me want to gag, but that’s not the only thing that makes me queasy as Mann brushes his lips against America’s.
I’m possessive of America. I’m jealous. I want to spend time with her. When I’m with her I can’t stop myself from touching her. I’m not thinking about Indy. I’m not drowning in misery the way I have been since Indy left me. For the first time in a long time I’m thinking about someone else.
But I didn’t wake up this morning thinking about America. I woke up bitter, with my chest aching so hard that I would have suspected a heart attack if I hadn’t recognized it as the same sensation I’ve felt regularly since Indy left me. Finding America was the distraction I needed. The fact that I didn’t think about Indy again until just now… it doesn’t matter. Not when I can’t let her go. That’s not fair to America.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as he swings an arm around her shoulders.
“Got back a little early,” he says as they walk toward me. “I couldn’t wait to see you. So what are you two up to? Catching up?”
“Actually, I have to go back to the hotel and contact the office,” I say, making my excuses. I don’t want to leave America alone with him, but I also don’t have an excuse for sticking around that she hasn’t already heard. Staying now will just make things uncomfortable.
Besides, I really do need to get back to the hotel and make calls to every team manager on my contact list who might have a spot for Mikey.
“Anything I should be worried about?” Mann straightens as he focuses on me. His brows lower.
“Not at all.” It’s not his contract on the line. Or his reputation that just took a hit. I was already under the microscope. Screwing up Mikey’s contract is only going to make it worse. And yet, I’m not beating a path out of here as quick as I should be.
“Good to hear.” He smiles cheerfully.
“I was thinking we should go out tonight.” Schmoozing him is still a priority. Taking him out, showing him a good time, and talking up what our partnership can do for him is the only way I’ll get this contract signed. And I need him to sign. “There’s this new club…”
“You’ve done your homework.” He winks at America.
I did my job, which included scouring his socials and creating a profile on him that should help close the deal. “Drinks are on me.”
“What do you think?” he asks America. “Want to go out tonight? Drink expensive champagne on the company’s dime?”
America turns to me hesitantly. We still need to talk. Then she smiles at him. It’s genuine. The kind of smile we’ve shared thousands of times over the years. Affectionate. “I’d love to.”
“Can’t wait,” Everett tells me as he takes off his hat and rubs a hand through his hair before putting it back on. He pulls a rectangle wrapped in ivory paper and ribbon from somewhere and I’m forgotten. “I brought you something, Lucky Charm.”
Well, isn’t that cute? Did he forget her name so he gave her a nickname? Or does he refer to every girl who spends time on his arm in the same way?
She stares at the pretty package when he hands it to her like it might bite. “What is it?”
“Open it.” He smiles.
She sucks in her bottom lip while she tears at the paper, revealing an ancient and delicate bound book. Awestruck, she caresses the front cover. “Oh wow. Gray, look at this.”
He bought her a gift that puts the forgotten book in my car to shame. One she would adore. He knows her well enough to know what would really speak to her. It takes me a moment to find my voice. He actually put some thought into it. “Is that the one you’ve been searching for?”
“No. But…” She looks up at him as my phone chirps with a new notification. “This must have cost you a fortune.”
He shrugs. “As long as you love it.”
“I do.” She holds it out to him. “But I can’t take it.”
I lift my phone and scan the screen. Mikey again.
“Don’t be silly.” He pushes it back at her. “It’s yours. I know nothing about languages.”
“I have to go.” I’ve dawdled long enough. I can’t put America’s relationship with Everett before my clients’ needs. “I really do need to go put out this fire.”
“Right, mate. Text us the details for tonight.” Everett dismisses me. America is too focused on her new book to pay me any mind.
I’m making my first call as I drive back to the hotel. It goes to voicemail, so I leave a message and move on. Three calls later, I’ve achieved nothing but to wonder what the hell is going back at America’s. Has she told him about us? Should I expect a call any minute with all the reasons I shouldn’t be his agent? Or has she stripped the sheets and headed for a second shower as though whatever is happening between us isn’t happening at all? Are they cuddled up on that comfy-looking sofa while she pours over her precious new book?
It’s ugly. This emotion I’m feeling. This desire to go back and tell Mann to fuck off.
She’s not my girl. I don’t want her to be my girl any more than I want her to be his.
I’m so twisted up by Indy fucking me over for that dancing asshole. And now I’m sleeping with her best friend…
The affair, the breakup, it’s coloring every part of my life an ugly shade. It’s possible it’s making me biased against Everett too. He actually seems to care about her.
That makes me the asshole in this scenario. And relating to that prick who wrecked my family is something I’ll never want.
“You did this to me,” I snap at the empty passenger seat, allowing myself to visualize Indy there in her favorite white dress and those tan boots she loved, while I speed along the main road. Her long copper hair hanging over both shoulders.
Does she even wear it like that anymore? Or those boots? Or that dress?
We haven’t spoken since I walked out of the hospital, so I have no idea who she has become. At least not since I was sober. I vaguely recall talking to him after her surgery. I needed to know that she was still with us. But since then it has only been me and the ghost of the woman I thought I’d pledge my life to. The woman I hoped would care for my heart the way I cared for hers. I would have done anything for her.
But apparently that made me too controlling. A bad guy.
My fiancée was dying. There was not a damn study or trial I wouldn’t have pushed her to try in order to keep her with me. There was no way I was going to willingly let her risk her life with that stupid bucket list. If I had to be the bad guy to keep her safe, then fine, I’m the bad guy.
I would be the bad guy a million times over if even one thing I did in those months had an impact on her still being here. Even if that means I end up here, with her leaving me for him. Every single time.
Fuck, here really sucks. It’s excruciating.
“I don't know how to move on from you. I don’t know how to cut you out.” I make a jagged motion across my chest. “God, I want to hate you so fucking much. Sometimes I want to call you up and tell you that.”
But I only seem to want to make those calls when I miss her the most. And I miss her now because she was my sounding board. When there were problems with clients or my parents, she was the one who I turned to.
“Does it help?” I imagine her asking, because after ten years it feels like I know what she would say. Or at least I did before him.
“I’m sleeping with your best friend,” I say flatly. Do I care about what she would think of me if I called her and told her that? I don’t know, but it would hurt America and that I don’t want. “So what do you think?”
“You like her.” She twists her hands together in her lap. “You’ve always cared about America.”
“She’s your cousin. She was always going to be part of my life. So I tried—”
“No.” She stares at me with that stubborn look she’d get sometimes when we disagreed. “You already had a soft spot for her when we got together.”
“We’re friends.”
She raises an eyebrow. “EJ’s your friend too. You don’t fuck him. You’re not considering whether or not you—”
“I’d fuck him if I thought it would hurt you,” I snarl.
A horn honks behind me, snapping me back to reality. I press the gas to proceed through the intersection. My chest hurts like hell. How can I possibly be considering anything with America when Indy is still so deep inside me?
It’s not like it can be anything but sex.
Everett is hell-bent on finding a team in the States. Securing that for him is a major draw card in this deal he and I are working on.
If he goes then maybe America will too. Even if things end between them, she’s going to want to go home and see her family at some point. For a vacation or for Christmas or to stay.
Being near all those people back home that I can’t bear to be around is where she belongs. Those people who were like family, until they accepted Theo with open fucking arms.
I slam my fist against the steering wheel. Once. Twice.
The idea of losing Indy to her illness was devastating and heartbreaking. It never occurred to me that she would destroy my heart by falling in love with someone else and leave me this twisted up, angry, lonely mess.
I should be relieved and thankful that she’s still alive. And I am. I’m thankful that I don’t have to grieve because she’s no longer here.
But loving Indy ruined me and every good thing in my life. I don’t know how to let her go. I don’t know how to put her behind me and find peace in what happened.
There is nothing I regret more than falling in love with her.
Indy left me. She fell for someone who wasn’t me. And she cut me out like I was the cancer in her life. She moved on with him.
Anger and hate settled in during that time I spent in a hut on the beach. And so did the booze. Until I woke up with a mouthful of sand and my head under water as the tide came in one morning.
Crawling my near-drowned, hungover ass out of the waves was only the first step. I had to get my head on right enough to beg for my job back when my bosses no longer had confidence in me, and my client portfolio had been divided up between the other agents I worked with.
In any sport, too much time on the bench with an injury—even a broken heart—can cost a career. I’m lucky I had a great track record for years prior. My bosses were willing to take that into consideration when they agreed to give me another shot.
I’m working as hard to rebuild my roster as I had to when I first started. And it’s as tedious and slow as it was back then. No one wants a rep they can’t be sure will be there when they’re needed. Contracting Mann would be a great step in the right direction. I need him.
As the soccer player struts toward us I grin and wave as I mutter under my breath barely loud enough for America to hear, “Not your boyfriend, huh?”
“I can see whoever I want to see, Gray,” America whispers back. “And I didn’t know he was coming over.”
He’s a brilliant soccer player. He has magic feet. But he also has an Instagram account that might as well be a champagne ad for the party lifestyle. Every image has a different beauty clinging to him.
And then there’s the things I’ve heard in the bleachers. He goes in hard and cools off quick. That might be okay for groupies, but not for a girl like America. She gets obsessive about things. And while I’ve never seen it I can’t imagine that also includes men. He’ll end up hurting her, intentionally or not.
I wouldn’t want any of my friends dating him. This is why I don’t want her to date him. Right?
Well, maybe my opinion is skewed. I don’t have any other friends I can’t keep my hands off.
She jogs over and hugs him with her whole body. There’s so much affection in it. Like he really is the boyfriend she wants. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
He lifts her off her feet to hug her tighter.
I glance down at my whitening knuckles, wrapped around my keys. At the bruising from punching that creep professor earlier. I feel like taking a shot at Mann too.
I’m not a fighter. There were a few times in college, during games where I’d lose my temper. But most of those fights were settled with a shove and a few hotheaded insults.
And there was that night when I picked up Indy and America from a nightclub when they were freshly twenty-one. America had been trembling so hard as they’d raced to my car with some drunk asshole on her tail. Indy had been flipping out and snapping at him to back off.
I’d fallen a little harder for Indy that night as I’d put myself between the girls and that idiot. The girl with the plan and the big heart and the bravery to face up to things that could hurt her. I was prepared to throw punches, but ultimately didn’t need to.
The last time that I almost hit someone, desperately wanted to, was the night my replacement brought Indy back to our apartment covered in Jell-O.
Recalling that slimy, disgusting, chunky, vomit-like shit all over her… It’s enough to make me want to gag, but that’s not the only thing that makes me queasy as Mann brushes his lips against America’s.
I’m possessive of America. I’m jealous. I want to spend time with her. When I’m with her I can’t stop myself from touching her. I’m not thinking about Indy. I’m not drowning in misery the way I have been since Indy left me. For the first time in a long time I’m thinking about someone else.
But I didn’t wake up this morning thinking about America. I woke up bitter, with my chest aching so hard that I would have suspected a heart attack if I hadn’t recognized it as the same sensation I’ve felt regularly since Indy left me. Finding America was the distraction I needed. The fact that I didn’t think about Indy again until just now… it doesn’t matter. Not when I can’t let her go. That’s not fair to America.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as he swings an arm around her shoulders.
“Got back a little early,” he says as they walk toward me. “I couldn’t wait to see you. So what are you two up to? Catching up?”
“Actually, I have to go back to the hotel and contact the office,” I say, making my excuses. I don’t want to leave America alone with him, but I also don’t have an excuse for sticking around that she hasn’t already heard. Staying now will just make things uncomfortable.
Besides, I really do need to get back to the hotel and make calls to every team manager on my contact list who might have a spot for Mikey.
“Anything I should be worried about?” Mann straightens as he focuses on me. His brows lower.
“Not at all.” It’s not his contract on the line. Or his reputation that just took a hit. I was already under the microscope. Screwing up Mikey’s contract is only going to make it worse. And yet, I’m not beating a path out of here as quick as I should be.
“Good to hear.” He smiles cheerfully.
“I was thinking we should go out tonight.” Schmoozing him is still a priority. Taking him out, showing him a good time, and talking up what our partnership can do for him is the only way I’ll get this contract signed. And I need him to sign. “There’s this new club…”
“You’ve done your homework.” He winks at America.
I did my job, which included scouring his socials and creating a profile on him that should help close the deal. “Drinks are on me.”
“What do you think?” he asks America. “Want to go out tonight? Drink expensive champagne on the company’s dime?”
America turns to me hesitantly. We still need to talk. Then she smiles at him. It’s genuine. The kind of smile we’ve shared thousands of times over the years. Affectionate. “I’d love to.”
“Can’t wait,” Everett tells me as he takes off his hat and rubs a hand through his hair before putting it back on. He pulls a rectangle wrapped in ivory paper and ribbon from somewhere and I’m forgotten. “I brought you something, Lucky Charm.”
Well, isn’t that cute? Did he forget her name so he gave her a nickname? Or does he refer to every girl who spends time on his arm in the same way?
She stares at the pretty package when he hands it to her like it might bite. “What is it?”
“Open it.” He smiles.
She sucks in her bottom lip while she tears at the paper, revealing an ancient and delicate bound book. Awestruck, she caresses the front cover. “Oh wow. Gray, look at this.”
He bought her a gift that puts the forgotten book in my car to shame. One she would adore. He knows her well enough to know what would really speak to her. It takes me a moment to find my voice. He actually put some thought into it. “Is that the one you’ve been searching for?”
“No. But…” She looks up at him as my phone chirps with a new notification. “This must have cost you a fortune.”
He shrugs. “As long as you love it.”
“I do.” She holds it out to him. “But I can’t take it.”
I lift my phone and scan the screen. Mikey again.
“Don’t be silly.” He pushes it back at her. “It’s yours. I know nothing about languages.”
“I have to go.” I’ve dawdled long enough. I can’t put America’s relationship with Everett before my clients’ needs. “I really do need to go put out this fire.”
“Right, mate. Text us the details for tonight.” Everett dismisses me. America is too focused on her new book to pay me any mind.
I’m making my first call as I drive back to the hotel. It goes to voicemail, so I leave a message and move on. Three calls later, I’ve achieved nothing but to wonder what the hell is going back at America’s. Has she told him about us? Should I expect a call any minute with all the reasons I shouldn’t be his agent? Or has she stripped the sheets and headed for a second shower as though whatever is happening between us isn’t happening at all? Are they cuddled up on that comfy-looking sofa while she pours over her precious new book?
It’s ugly. This emotion I’m feeling. This desire to go back and tell Mann to fuck off.
She’s not my girl. I don’t want her to be my girl any more than I want her to be his.
I’m so twisted up by Indy fucking me over for that dancing asshole. And now I’m sleeping with her best friend…
The affair, the breakup, it’s coloring every part of my life an ugly shade. It’s possible it’s making me biased against Everett too. He actually seems to care about her.
That makes me the asshole in this scenario. And relating to that prick who wrecked my family is something I’ll never want.
“You did this to me,” I snap at the empty passenger seat, allowing myself to visualize Indy there in her favorite white dress and those tan boots she loved, while I speed along the main road. Her long copper hair hanging over both shoulders.
Does she even wear it like that anymore? Or those boots? Or that dress?
We haven’t spoken since I walked out of the hospital, so I have no idea who she has become. At least not since I was sober. I vaguely recall talking to him after her surgery. I needed to know that she was still with us. But since then it has only been me and the ghost of the woman I thought I’d pledge my life to. The woman I hoped would care for my heart the way I cared for hers. I would have done anything for her.
But apparently that made me too controlling. A bad guy.
My fiancée was dying. There was not a damn study or trial I wouldn’t have pushed her to try in order to keep her with me. There was no way I was going to willingly let her risk her life with that stupid bucket list. If I had to be the bad guy to keep her safe, then fine, I’m the bad guy.
I would be the bad guy a million times over if even one thing I did in those months had an impact on her still being here. Even if that means I end up here, with her leaving me for him. Every single time.
Fuck, here really sucks. It’s excruciating.
“I don't know how to move on from you. I don’t know how to cut you out.” I make a jagged motion across my chest. “God, I want to hate you so fucking much. Sometimes I want to call you up and tell you that.”
But I only seem to want to make those calls when I miss her the most. And I miss her now because she was my sounding board. When there were problems with clients or my parents, she was the one who I turned to.
“Does it help?” I imagine her asking, because after ten years it feels like I know what she would say. Or at least I did before him.
“I’m sleeping with your best friend,” I say flatly. Do I care about what she would think of me if I called her and told her that? I don’t know, but it would hurt America and that I don’t want. “So what do you think?”
“You like her.” She twists her hands together in her lap. “You’ve always cared about America.”
“She’s your cousin. She was always going to be part of my life. So I tried—”
“No.” She stares at me with that stubborn look she’d get sometimes when we disagreed. “You already had a soft spot for her when we got together.”
“We’re friends.”
She raises an eyebrow. “EJ’s your friend too. You don’t fuck him. You’re not considering whether or not you—”
“I’d fuck him if I thought it would hurt you,” I snarl.
A horn honks behind me, snapping me back to reality. I press the gas to proceed through the intersection. My chest hurts like hell. How can I possibly be considering anything with America when Indy is still so deep inside me?
It’s not like it can be anything but sex.
Everett is hell-bent on finding a team in the States. Securing that for him is a major draw card in this deal he and I are working on.
If he goes then maybe America will too. Even if things end between them, she’s going to want to go home and see her family at some point. For a vacation or for Christmas or to stay.
Being near all those people back home that I can’t bear to be around is where she belongs. Those people who were like family, until they accepted Theo with open fucking arms.
I slam my fist against the steering wheel. Once. Twice.
The idea of losing Indy to her illness was devastating and heartbreaking. It never occurred to me that she would destroy my heart by falling in love with someone else and leave me this twisted up, angry, lonely mess.
I should be relieved and thankful that she’s still alive. And I am. I’m thankful that I don’t have to grieve because she’s no longer here.
But loving Indy ruined me and every good thing in my life. I don’t know how to let her go. I don’t know how to put her behind me and find peace in what happened.
There is nothing I regret more than falling in love with her.
Chapter Fifteen - America
“I hope you don’t mind me being here.” Everett pushes his hands into his pocket. “I know I said that you should take all the time you need. But then you didn’t call, and I couldn’t stay away.”
“It’s barely been two days.” I place the book on the counter. There are two coffee mugs next to the machine. There’s sugar all over the hallway floor in front of the bathroom. My sheets smell like Gray and sex. A lot can happen in such a short amount of time. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been.
“America, I like you so much. Too much, maybe…”
“Everett, I like you too.” He’s not the typical douche I tend to date. I finally broke my cycle. I really thought there might be something more here than sex. Maybe even love eventually.
And then this thing with Gray started.
Obviously I was fooling myself. I’m clearly still as hopelessly in love with Gray as I have ever been.
Why couldn’t he have noticed me instead of Indy all those years ago? It’s a question I’ve asked myself a million times, but it hit me differently when he wished for it earlier. Like we’re both aware that we could have had something real if she hadn’t gotten between us. And now he’s not with Indy.
It makes me feel guilty thinking of her as the barrier between us. She is my home and my heart. She is this piece of me that I never want to be without. Almost losing her really brought that into focus.
There can never be anything real between me and Gray because it would hurt her too much. But it doesn’t make me want him any less. Telling myself all the reasons why he can never be mine has never stopped me loving him.
A new text from Indy chirps on my phone, heightening my guilt. I ignore it, because I can’t stomach looking at it. She has such perfect timing.
“Then be my girlfriend.” Everett grabs my waist and pulls me into his arms. “Let me introduce you to my teammates, their wives and girlfriends. I want to see you at my games. I want to take you to more places in public.”
“Everett.” I press at his chest, needing to extricate myself from his grip. I need to end things with him. I can’t lead him on when there is nothing here for him. “I like you, but—”
The Beatles start playing “Hey Jude” from the depths of his pocket. The pressure in my chest eases up as he digs it out.
“Hold that thought.” He walks into my living room as he answers it. “Hey, Mom.”
I pick up my phone and read the message Indy left for me.
Indy: Is this HE?
Above it is a picture of me and Everett outside the restaurant the other night. He’s holding my hand and I look like I wanted to avoid the cameras, when really, I wanted to avoid Gray and the mess I was running headlong into.
Maybe Everett could be my HE if Gray wasn’t in the picture.
America: Not HE.
Indy: Damnit. I was so certain. Theo thought I might be onto something too. Tell me you’re dating him as well. I’ve been reading a lot of Why Choose romances lately.
America: What romances?
Indy: Polyamorous. Like maybe the guys have a relationship as well. Or like she has three boyfriends or more.
America: Do you wish you had that? In real life? Do you wish you still had Gray?
Indy: …
Indy: …
“That was my mom.” Everett stumbles back into the kitchen before Indy finishes typing. He’s pale under his tan. He rubs his forehead. “My pops fell off the roof.”
“Oh my God! Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure. He’s in the hospital. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Of course.” I grab my purse, shove my phone into it. Whatever Gray and I need to talk about can wait. Everett needs someone at his side while he waits to find out if his pops will be okay. Like I’d had Dove to help me through the shock when Indy finally told me about her brain tumor. “I’ll go with you.”
Everett slips his fingers between mine as we hurry through the hospital. I curl mine around them to offer him support. Everyone needs that in these situations. Right now he needs that from me.
“Thank you for coming with me,” he says as we make it to the room where his grandfather is laid up.
His mom sits beside a version of Everett that was born in the fifties. The two men share some spectacularly strong genetics.
His pops’s face is deeply lined and rugged, but they have the same strong jaw, Roman nose, and brown eyes. When he turns them on his grandson, they brighten. “Took your time, boy.”
“So he’s all right then?” Everett asks his mom as he lets go of my hand.
“He’s all right, love.” She smiles softly, her gaze landing on me with curiosity but then focusing back on her dad. “You gave us quite a scare though, you old codger.”
“What were you doing on the roof?” Everett picks up a chair from the other side of the room and puts it down opposite his mom’s. He takes his hat off as he sits and starts twisting it between his hands.
Gray says he’s a player and that I should be careful around him, but seeing him with his family… he’s so sweet. It can’t be true.
“Someone has to clean the gutters,” his pops mutters.
“I paid someone to do that.” Everett frowns.
“He sent them away,” his mum says as I lean against the wall just inside the door. “You know how he gets.”
“Those lazy lay-abouts didn’t do the job right.” His pops’s busy brows draw tightly together, and his mouth takes on a sullen set.
“So you thought you’d climb up and do it yourself.” Everett shakes his head. “You’re so stubborn. You could have broken a hip or something.”
His pops scoffs. “I didn’t even get a scratch.”
“Sure. That’s why you’re in the hospital.”
Now that he knows his grandfather is okay, I feel out of place in this room. Especially since he hasn’t introduced me. Not that I want him to introduce me in any capacity while I’m in knots over Gray.
His mom keeps sending glances my way that make me uncomfortable, and I don’t know if it’s the color of my skin or that she can see my bra through the holes in my sweater—I really should have changed before I left the flat—or that it’s that unusual for her to see Everett with a woman.
Or something else entirely.
My phone rings and I straighten away from the wall. “I’m going to go take this, go for a walk.”
“You’re not dating her, are you?” Everett’s mom asks as I leave.
Yeah, I love the way that feels. I wish I could just disappear as I put my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hi. I’m Ruby. I’m the admissions counselor at the University of Cambridge. Can I talk to you about your course load?”
“I’m sorry. This isn’t a good time.” Oh no, I really can’t deal with this on top of everything else right now. I cross my arm against my waist and rhythmically pinch my elbow to create a pain point that will keep the anxiety in check.
“You haven’t attended classes for quite a while. But you haven’t submitted the paperwork to drop out either. Is there something I can do to help you? Some way that I can support you?”
Quitting was not the plan, but I can’t go back. I don’t know how I’ll explain it to my parents or to Indy. After everything she’s been through, not being able to stick to the plan feels like I’m failing her too. I don’t have a clue what I’ll do long term without my doctorate. But the idea of walking those university halls, seeing him, I can’t do it. “I need to withdraw.”
“Can you drop by my office next week?” she asks. “We can go through what you’ll need to do. Discuss your options moving forward.”
“Okay.” I bite my thumb nail. Perhaps I can get Gray to come with me so I don’t have to do it alone. I won’t have to worry about running into him if Gray is with me.
“I’ll see you then.” Ruby hangs up.
I have a bunch of notifications and time to kill so I go back to my conversation with Indy. Her first message makes me snort.
Indy: God no. I meant for you. I only need Theo. His hands are huge and his penis is pierced. You know what I’m talking about. ;p
I don’t believe for one second that my bestie didn’t write some huge essay on her feelings for Gray. And for Theo. Before settling on being flippant. Not because she wants Gray back. But because of how they ended.
And while I have come across a pierced peen or two in my time, I’m not sure they measure up in any way to Gray and his mouth. But that’s my opinion. One I will take to the grave.
Another message comes through.
Indy: I love Theo so much. In case that wasn’t clear.
America: We all love him. We’re so glad you found each other.
Indy: I hope one day you’ll know what it’s like. To look at your man and just want to explode with love. But you better introduce me first. I need to vet him, and make sure he’s right for my bestie.
How could that possibly work? If I showed up to Christmas dinner with Gray holding my hand. Hey babe, this is my boyfriend. You know him… on a biblical level.
Not the perverted level I’m getting to know him on though. She always said he was sweet and considerate. I took that as code for boring. Or at least that’s what I told myself in an attempt to quieten my attraction to him.
She never told me I’d want to tongue-in-cheek call him sir while falling to my knees before him. She never admitted he had such a dirty, perverted mouth.
This slutty, panty-ripping level I’m getting to experience makes my knees weak, and a dribble run down my thigh. Both because thinking about a replay of this afternoon gives me tingles, and because my panties are still moist and messy from the afterglow.
I drop into the closest chair as I type out a response. I’m getting ahead of myself, imagining any kind of future where the three of us are in the same place at the same time. Just because he said we have things to talk about doesn’t mean that he wants more than what we’re currently doing. On our best days we’re friends, and the sex… it’s fantastic, but it’s just sex.
He loved her so much. He still loves her. Even if he’s convinced himself it’s hate. And Indy loves him too, though it’s different for her because she loves Theo as well. You don’t spend your entire life with someone, and not need time to grieve when they’re no longer a part of you. They say it can take half as long as you loved someone to come to peace with losing them.
I don’t know what that means for Gray and me. I’m a distraction. I know that. But after today, it feels like we could be more. Except…
America: I’m not telling you who HE is.
Indy: Oh come on. I’m dying over here. We don’t keep secrets from each other.
America: There’s always a first time.
I wish that was true. I wish it were the one and only time I’ve kept anything from her.
America: You’re not dying anymore, you can’t use that excuse.
Indy: Too soon? That wasn’t what I meant. I’m just excited to meet your hot British boytoy.
America: I promise if anyone meets him, you’ll be the first.
She has no inkling that I’ve been in love with Gray forever and that as much as I moved here for the university it was also to put some distance between us when she was supposed to be marrying him.
Now I’m not telling her that I’m quitting my doctorate or that I’m screwing her ex. I’m leaving her in her little bubble where she believes I’m falling for some gorgeous man with a British accent.
Compiling lies, one on top of another. Great friend, I am.
I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall. Gray wants to talk. Maybe when we’re done talking, I’ll have more idea of what, if anything, I should tell my best friend.
“It’s barely been two days.” I place the book on the counter. There are two coffee mugs next to the machine. There’s sugar all over the hallway floor in front of the bathroom. My sheets smell like Gray and sex. A lot can happen in such a short amount of time. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been.
“America, I like you so much. Too much, maybe…”
“Everett, I like you too.” He’s not the typical douche I tend to date. I finally broke my cycle. I really thought there might be something more here than sex. Maybe even love eventually.
And then this thing with Gray started.
Obviously I was fooling myself. I’m clearly still as hopelessly in love with Gray as I have ever been.
Why couldn’t he have noticed me instead of Indy all those years ago? It’s a question I’ve asked myself a million times, but it hit me differently when he wished for it earlier. Like we’re both aware that we could have had something real if she hadn’t gotten between us. And now he’s not with Indy.
It makes me feel guilty thinking of her as the barrier between us. She is my home and my heart. She is this piece of me that I never want to be without. Almost losing her really brought that into focus.
There can never be anything real between me and Gray because it would hurt her too much. But it doesn’t make me want him any less. Telling myself all the reasons why he can never be mine has never stopped me loving him.
A new text from Indy chirps on my phone, heightening my guilt. I ignore it, because I can’t stomach looking at it. She has such perfect timing.
“Then be my girlfriend.” Everett grabs my waist and pulls me into his arms. “Let me introduce you to my teammates, their wives and girlfriends. I want to see you at my games. I want to take you to more places in public.”
“Everett.” I press at his chest, needing to extricate myself from his grip. I need to end things with him. I can’t lead him on when there is nothing here for him. “I like you, but—”
The Beatles start playing “Hey Jude” from the depths of his pocket. The pressure in my chest eases up as he digs it out.
“Hold that thought.” He walks into my living room as he answers it. “Hey, Mom.”
I pick up my phone and read the message Indy left for me.
Indy: Is this HE?
Above it is a picture of me and Everett outside the restaurant the other night. He’s holding my hand and I look like I wanted to avoid the cameras, when really, I wanted to avoid Gray and the mess I was running headlong into.
Maybe Everett could be my HE if Gray wasn’t in the picture.
America: Not HE.
Indy: Damnit. I was so certain. Theo thought I might be onto something too. Tell me you’re dating him as well. I’ve been reading a lot of Why Choose romances lately.
America: What romances?
Indy: Polyamorous. Like maybe the guys have a relationship as well. Or like she has three boyfriends or more.
America: Do you wish you had that? In real life? Do you wish you still had Gray?
Indy: …
Indy: …
“That was my mom.” Everett stumbles back into the kitchen before Indy finishes typing. He’s pale under his tan. He rubs his forehead. “My pops fell off the roof.”
“Oh my God! Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure. He’s in the hospital. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Of course.” I grab my purse, shove my phone into it. Whatever Gray and I need to talk about can wait. Everett needs someone at his side while he waits to find out if his pops will be okay. Like I’d had Dove to help me through the shock when Indy finally told me about her brain tumor. “I’ll go with you.”
Everett slips his fingers between mine as we hurry through the hospital. I curl mine around them to offer him support. Everyone needs that in these situations. Right now he needs that from me.
“Thank you for coming with me,” he says as we make it to the room where his grandfather is laid up.
His mom sits beside a version of Everett that was born in the fifties. The two men share some spectacularly strong genetics.
His pops’s face is deeply lined and rugged, but they have the same strong jaw, Roman nose, and brown eyes. When he turns them on his grandson, they brighten. “Took your time, boy.”
“So he’s all right then?” Everett asks his mom as he lets go of my hand.
“He’s all right, love.” She smiles softly, her gaze landing on me with curiosity but then focusing back on her dad. “You gave us quite a scare though, you old codger.”
“What were you doing on the roof?” Everett picks up a chair from the other side of the room and puts it down opposite his mom’s. He takes his hat off as he sits and starts twisting it between his hands.
Gray says he’s a player and that I should be careful around him, but seeing him with his family… he’s so sweet. It can’t be true.
“Someone has to clean the gutters,” his pops mutters.
“I paid someone to do that.” Everett frowns.
“He sent them away,” his mum says as I lean against the wall just inside the door. “You know how he gets.”
“Those lazy lay-abouts didn’t do the job right.” His pops’s busy brows draw tightly together, and his mouth takes on a sullen set.
“So you thought you’d climb up and do it yourself.” Everett shakes his head. “You’re so stubborn. You could have broken a hip or something.”
His pops scoffs. “I didn’t even get a scratch.”
“Sure. That’s why you’re in the hospital.”
Now that he knows his grandfather is okay, I feel out of place in this room. Especially since he hasn’t introduced me. Not that I want him to introduce me in any capacity while I’m in knots over Gray.
His mom keeps sending glances my way that make me uncomfortable, and I don’t know if it’s the color of my skin or that she can see my bra through the holes in my sweater—I really should have changed before I left the flat—or that it’s that unusual for her to see Everett with a woman.
Or something else entirely.
My phone rings and I straighten away from the wall. “I’m going to go take this, go for a walk.”
“You’re not dating her, are you?” Everett’s mom asks as I leave.
Yeah, I love the way that feels. I wish I could just disappear as I put my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hi. I’m Ruby. I’m the admissions counselor at the University of Cambridge. Can I talk to you about your course load?”
“I’m sorry. This isn’t a good time.” Oh no, I really can’t deal with this on top of everything else right now. I cross my arm against my waist and rhythmically pinch my elbow to create a pain point that will keep the anxiety in check.
“You haven’t attended classes for quite a while. But you haven’t submitted the paperwork to drop out either. Is there something I can do to help you? Some way that I can support you?”
Quitting was not the plan, but I can’t go back. I don’t know how I’ll explain it to my parents or to Indy. After everything she’s been through, not being able to stick to the plan feels like I’m failing her too. I don’t have a clue what I’ll do long term without my doctorate. But the idea of walking those university halls, seeing him, I can’t do it. “I need to withdraw.”
“Can you drop by my office next week?” she asks. “We can go through what you’ll need to do. Discuss your options moving forward.”
“Okay.” I bite my thumb nail. Perhaps I can get Gray to come with me so I don’t have to do it alone. I won’t have to worry about running into him if Gray is with me.
“I’ll see you then.” Ruby hangs up.
I have a bunch of notifications and time to kill so I go back to my conversation with Indy. Her first message makes me snort.
Indy: God no. I meant for you. I only need Theo. His hands are huge and his penis is pierced. You know what I’m talking about. ;p
I don’t believe for one second that my bestie didn’t write some huge essay on her feelings for Gray. And for Theo. Before settling on being flippant. Not because she wants Gray back. But because of how they ended.
And while I have come across a pierced peen or two in my time, I’m not sure they measure up in any way to Gray and his mouth. But that’s my opinion. One I will take to the grave.
Another message comes through.
Indy: I love Theo so much. In case that wasn’t clear.
America: We all love him. We’re so glad you found each other.
Indy: I hope one day you’ll know what it’s like. To look at your man and just want to explode with love. But you better introduce me first. I need to vet him, and make sure he’s right for my bestie.
How could that possibly work? If I showed up to Christmas dinner with Gray holding my hand. Hey babe, this is my boyfriend. You know him… on a biblical level.
Not the perverted level I’m getting to know him on though. She always said he was sweet and considerate. I took that as code for boring. Or at least that’s what I told myself in an attempt to quieten my attraction to him.
She never told me I’d want to tongue-in-cheek call him sir while falling to my knees before him. She never admitted he had such a dirty, perverted mouth.
This slutty, panty-ripping level I’m getting to experience makes my knees weak, and a dribble run down my thigh. Both because thinking about a replay of this afternoon gives me tingles, and because my panties are still moist and messy from the afterglow.
I drop into the closest chair as I type out a response. I’m getting ahead of myself, imagining any kind of future where the three of us are in the same place at the same time. Just because he said we have things to talk about doesn’t mean that he wants more than what we’re currently doing. On our best days we’re friends, and the sex… it’s fantastic, but it’s just sex.
He loved her so much. He still loves her. Even if he’s convinced himself it’s hate. And Indy loves him too, though it’s different for her because she loves Theo as well. You don’t spend your entire life with someone, and not need time to grieve when they’re no longer a part of you. They say it can take half as long as you loved someone to come to peace with losing them.
I don’t know what that means for Gray and me. I’m a distraction. I know that. But after today, it feels like we could be more. Except…
America: I’m not telling you who HE is.
Indy: Oh come on. I’m dying over here. We don’t keep secrets from each other.
America: There’s always a first time.
I wish that was true. I wish it were the one and only time I’ve kept anything from her.
America: You’re not dying anymore, you can’t use that excuse.
Indy: Too soon? That wasn’t what I meant. I’m just excited to meet your hot British boytoy.
America: I promise if anyone meets him, you’ll be the first.
She has no inkling that I’ve been in love with Gray forever and that as much as I moved here for the university it was also to put some distance between us when she was supposed to be marrying him.
Now I’m not telling her that I’m quitting my doctorate or that I’m screwing her ex. I’m leaving her in her little bubble where she believes I’m falling for some gorgeous man with a British accent.
Compiling lies, one on top of another. Great friend, I am.
I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall. Gray wants to talk. Maybe when we’re done talking, I’ll have more idea of what, if anything, I should tell my best friend.
Chapter Sixteen - America
Cutting across the road, I skip over the gutter in my favorite heels. The ones with the ankle strap and the four-inch heel. They’re silver and remind me of Christmas. Specifically the Christmas I accidentally ended up under the mistletoe with Gray.
I was twenty-one. Drinking the spiked eggnog Uncle Oz makes every year, but until that Christmas hadn’t been allowed to drink. Which was for the best, considering halfway through the first glass I was feeling the effects.
Gray had walked into the kitchen, his arms full of presents for Indy’s family. He was wearing this forest green sweater with white snowflakes on it and hadn’t shaved in a few days. God, he was so sexy I hadn’t been able to avert my gaze.
The present on top was wrapped in glittery silver paper, and it had no intention of staying in place. It skittered closer to falling with every step he took.
So I raced over to help secure it. Only to have Indy cry out that we were under the mistletoe.
It was the eggnog that made my cheeks hot. Not Gray’s full bottom lip or how those blue eyes flew to mine. And then he leaned down and kissed my cheek. I fought every instinct to turn my head and seal my lips to his.
As soon as he straightened I got the hell out from under that crazy plant. That naughty present turned out to be these heels that I had been eyeing for a few weeks.
EJ got a baseball bat signed by his favorite player. Aunt Sharon and Uncle Oz received floor seat tickets to a Bulls game. And Indy got New Year’s in New York with Gray. And his entire heart.
But maybe that’s changing. These heels feel fateful tonight. Like we were meant to end up here. It just wasn’t time before. Of course that thought brings guilt. It wasn’t time because he had Indy. I never wanted to mess with that. I never wanted to cause a rift.
But the rift is already there, and there is nothing I can do about it. At least not now. Seeing Gray isn’t going to change anything.
Loud music escapes the club as I approach a bouncer with short cropped hair and a black on black suit. He smiles as his eyes drift past my face to the showstopper dress that I’m wearing.
My fingers itch to tug on the neckline when his gaze settles on the round swells of my breasts. It was probably a mistake wearing a dress with a deep V that almost hits my belly button to a club full of drunken lads, but that was not my first thought when I picked it out.
The bouncer barely glances at the list in his hand when I give him Everett’s name. He lifts the rope and lets me and my breasts glide on past. “Have a nice night.”
Inside is classy. Loud and busy and full of strangers with familiar faces. Celebs mingle with billion dollar athletes. They lounge around tables loaded with glasses and bottles of champagne and top shelf spirits. There’s a throng of them on the dance floor under the lights.
I take a moment to put in my earbuds while I locate Gray. The booth where he waits is engulfed by shadows so I don’t notice him straight away. When I do my heart beats harder and seems to grow in my chest. He looks up as I approach, and that suckable bottom lip hangs lower than usual as he takes me in.
“Rica.” He stands and moves toward me, his gaze dropping to the deep V of the halter neckline with appreciation. He swallows hard before bringing his focus back to my face. “That dress… are you trying to kill every man in here? Because wars have been fought over less.”
The thought of having someone want to fight for me like that… after he handled my jerk of a professor earlier… It has an appeal.
He’s always protected me when he saw a need for it. Like a friend or like EJ would for Indy. He protected me from those asshole boys in high school and again from my professor and many times in between. But now it feels like that protectiveness has a territorial edge to it that is so sexy. “You’d go to war for me?”
“I just might.” He frowns as he glances over my head to look for Everett.
He gives me butterflies. Touching his arm, I draw his attention back. “Everett’s not with me. His pops ended up in the hospital this afternoon.”
“Is he—”
“His pops is fine. Stubborn though. They released him and an hour later he was climbing up on the roof to clean the gutters again.”
“I’m happy to hear he’s okay,” Gray says.
“Everett didn’t want to leave his mom to handle his pops on her own. He said he’ll message me when his pops is settled, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Just us then?” Gray’s gaze wanders my face.
I nod. “Is that…”
“Will he have a problem with you being here with me?”
“I… haven’t told him. I’m going to. I wanted to. But then his pops…” I dip my chin as my hands tighten on my clutch. “It didn’t seem like the time to tell him I can’t see him anymore when he already had so much to deal with.”
“You’re not going to see him anymore?” He sounds surprised.
“Well, yeah. Unless…” I’m not sure why he would be surprised after the last few times we’ve run into each other. I cuff my hand around my elbow. “Did I read this wrong?”
Why wouldn’t he be happy about this? He was so adamant that Everett was bad news.
I guess I built it up in my head that he might be happy about it for other reasons. Realizing that he might not be… I’m almost queasy.
“I think I said that we should talk.” His voice softens and the tension leaves his posture.
I lift my chin. “You did.”
Pursing his lips, he glances at the busy hub of the club. “How about I go to the bar and get us drinks?”
“That would help.” Now that we’re talking about talking, the nerves have set in.
“All right. Do you want…”
“Gin and tonic. I’m a G and T girl now.” I smile when he nods, those ice blue eyes looking surer with every word we exchange.
“Be back in a minute.” He squeezes my hip and brushes his lips over my mouth before he heads to the bar.
I slip into the booth and study his broad back in a suit jacket that fits across his wide shoulders and tapers perfectly to his narrow hips. Everything about him is mouthwateringly attractive to me. Is this crazy? Pursuing something with my best friend’s ex?
My phone beeps with a notification. Everett messaging to let me know he won’t be coming and telling me to have fun catching up with Gray. If the idea of ending things via text didn’t make me hate myself more than I already do, I’d tell him right now just so I don’t have to carry any more guilt.
Everett’s only the tip of the iceberg compared to how I feel when I think about Indy.
Gray smiles as he returns to the booth with a beer and my G and T. I abandon my phone on the table. It can wait.
Placing the drinks down, he scoots in beside me until our knees touch.
“How did I not notice…”
“What?”
“I feel like I should be having a heart attack right now with how gorgeous you are…” His fingers graze the side of my throat before gripping the back of my neck while he leans in to kiss me.
God, if this is crazy… I don’t want to be sane. After all these years he’s not looking at me as his girl’s best friend. He’s looking at me like I’m a woman and he is a man who wants me. And I wished for that on every birthday between fourteen and eighteen. After that he was with Indy, and I realized wishes didn’t come true.
But maybe they can.
His fingers trail along the material of my halter neck, over my collarbone and down the edge of the V. “You are making me lose my damn sanity. Did you know that? You’ve never been a problem, but now… being this close to you… it’s not enough.”
I’m a problem for him? Because he didn’t want this? Or because now he does? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to come over here, Rica. Crawl onto my lap.”
My dress hikes up my thighs as I move to straddle him.
“Don’t think about it.” He stops me from tugging the stretchy material back down before he secures me in place with both hands on my waist.
“I don’t need my ass on display.”
“No one can see. We’re in too much shadow.” His big palms cover both globes as he kisses me. “And you’re hidden by the table. I bet we could fuck right here, and no one would notice.”
“You’re not serious.” My body tingles all over when he grinds against me.
There are people everywhere, but the lights are dim and the booze is flowing and I want him so much that I can’t help but roll my hips to sharpen the contact. It does nothing to ease the ache building in my core.
He catches my jaw with one hand and kisses me. “You want it, don’t you? You’re a dirty girl who likes the idea of being caught while I’m deep inside you.”
My panties are destroyed, my body is addicted. I would do just about anything when he talks to me like that.
“Will you do it, Rica? Will you be my filthy girl, and do what I say?”
“Yes,” I exhale the word on the whisper of a whimper. The way he can come into any situation and take charge has always affected me in a visceral way. But this is next level sexual catnip for a girl who likes a little bossy in the bedroom. “You like to be in control, don’t you?”
“I do.” He kisses me. “Now be a good girl. Stand up and turn around before you sit back on my lap.”
Watching the crowd to see if anyone notices, I climb off him, turn around and slide back onto his lap while he discreetly unbuttons his pants.
His hard cock throbs against my panty-covered pussy when I lower back down. If I’d known we’d end up like this I would have come without them.
Then again, I always seem to end up in the same predicament when it comes to Gray. Perhaps I’ll stash a fresh pair in my purse for next time and leave the ones that I’m wearing at home.
“Lean forward,” he tells me. “Pick up your drink. And take a sip, but don’t swallow.”
I pick up the cocktail and lift it to my lips as his hand travels over my thigh and between my legs. He hooks one finger into the lace of my panties and tugs it aside. I almost spill the drink when he thrusts into me.
“Careful.” His voice promises wickedness as I place the glass back down. Under the table his fingers dig into the front of my panties and play over my clit. “Now, I want you to spit it in my mouth.”
Holy shit. I almost inhale the alcohol as I twist my head. He mashes his lips to mine, and I spit the fluid into his mouth. It feels personal. He’s inside me, fucking me so slowly, but this feels more intimate.
He shudders, a groan escaping him. “Rica.”
The way he says my name before he drives his tongue into my mouth to taste every crevice. I can make him feel things that make him lose control. It makes me feel powerful. A girl could get addicted to making the man she’s in love with go feral for her.
Eventually he pulls back. “You’re going to finish that drink without spilling a drop, and the entire time I’m going to be inside you.” He nips at my earlobe. “And playing with this.”
He rubs my clit. It’s all I can do not to moan.
The icy liquid does nothing to quench the heat as he fucks me slow and shallow so that no one notices the way we’re moving together. I get lost in how good and right and dirty and perfect it feels. By the time I finish my drink I’m ready to combust.
Taking the empty glass from my hand, he puts it on the table, and then grasps my jaw. His tongue slips between my parted lips and swallows up a whimper I can’t hold back, while his cock scrapes all those places inside me that have me desperate to scream.
His fingers speed up on my clit. “That’s my dirty girl. Come. I want to feel it.”
An orgasm washes through me, making my inner walls spasm around him. He’s right behind me, flooding me with heat a second later while he murmurs, “Rica, what are you doing to me? I can’t get enough of you.”
I can’t get enough of him either.
My phone vibrates on the table and lights up with an incoming call.
Behind me Gray sucks in a wooden breath and turns rigid.
Indy’s timing is always perfect.
I was twenty-one. Drinking the spiked eggnog Uncle Oz makes every year, but until that Christmas hadn’t been allowed to drink. Which was for the best, considering halfway through the first glass I was feeling the effects.
Gray had walked into the kitchen, his arms full of presents for Indy’s family. He was wearing this forest green sweater with white snowflakes on it and hadn’t shaved in a few days. God, he was so sexy I hadn’t been able to avert my gaze.
The present on top was wrapped in glittery silver paper, and it had no intention of staying in place. It skittered closer to falling with every step he took.
So I raced over to help secure it. Only to have Indy cry out that we were under the mistletoe.
It was the eggnog that made my cheeks hot. Not Gray’s full bottom lip or how those blue eyes flew to mine. And then he leaned down and kissed my cheek. I fought every instinct to turn my head and seal my lips to his.
As soon as he straightened I got the hell out from under that crazy plant. That naughty present turned out to be these heels that I had been eyeing for a few weeks.
EJ got a baseball bat signed by his favorite player. Aunt Sharon and Uncle Oz received floor seat tickets to a Bulls game. And Indy got New Year’s in New York with Gray. And his entire heart.
But maybe that’s changing. These heels feel fateful tonight. Like we were meant to end up here. It just wasn’t time before. Of course that thought brings guilt. It wasn’t time because he had Indy. I never wanted to mess with that. I never wanted to cause a rift.
But the rift is already there, and there is nothing I can do about it. At least not now. Seeing Gray isn’t going to change anything.
Loud music escapes the club as I approach a bouncer with short cropped hair and a black on black suit. He smiles as his eyes drift past my face to the showstopper dress that I’m wearing.
My fingers itch to tug on the neckline when his gaze settles on the round swells of my breasts. It was probably a mistake wearing a dress with a deep V that almost hits my belly button to a club full of drunken lads, but that was not my first thought when I picked it out.
The bouncer barely glances at the list in his hand when I give him Everett’s name. He lifts the rope and lets me and my breasts glide on past. “Have a nice night.”
Inside is classy. Loud and busy and full of strangers with familiar faces. Celebs mingle with billion dollar athletes. They lounge around tables loaded with glasses and bottles of champagne and top shelf spirits. There’s a throng of them on the dance floor under the lights.
I take a moment to put in my earbuds while I locate Gray. The booth where he waits is engulfed by shadows so I don’t notice him straight away. When I do my heart beats harder and seems to grow in my chest. He looks up as I approach, and that suckable bottom lip hangs lower than usual as he takes me in.
“Rica.” He stands and moves toward me, his gaze dropping to the deep V of the halter neckline with appreciation. He swallows hard before bringing his focus back to my face. “That dress… are you trying to kill every man in here? Because wars have been fought over less.”
The thought of having someone want to fight for me like that… after he handled my jerk of a professor earlier… It has an appeal.
He’s always protected me when he saw a need for it. Like a friend or like EJ would for Indy. He protected me from those asshole boys in high school and again from my professor and many times in between. But now it feels like that protectiveness has a territorial edge to it that is so sexy. “You’d go to war for me?”
“I just might.” He frowns as he glances over my head to look for Everett.
He gives me butterflies. Touching his arm, I draw his attention back. “Everett’s not with me. His pops ended up in the hospital this afternoon.”
“Is he—”
“His pops is fine. Stubborn though. They released him and an hour later he was climbing up on the roof to clean the gutters again.”
“I’m happy to hear he’s okay,” Gray says.
“Everett didn’t want to leave his mom to handle his pops on her own. He said he’ll message me when his pops is settled, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Just us then?” Gray’s gaze wanders my face.
I nod. “Is that…”
“Will he have a problem with you being here with me?”
“I… haven’t told him. I’m going to. I wanted to. But then his pops…” I dip my chin as my hands tighten on my clutch. “It didn’t seem like the time to tell him I can’t see him anymore when he already had so much to deal with.”
“You’re not going to see him anymore?” He sounds surprised.
“Well, yeah. Unless…” I’m not sure why he would be surprised after the last few times we’ve run into each other. I cuff my hand around my elbow. “Did I read this wrong?”
Why wouldn’t he be happy about this? He was so adamant that Everett was bad news.
I guess I built it up in my head that he might be happy about it for other reasons. Realizing that he might not be… I’m almost queasy.
“I think I said that we should talk.” His voice softens and the tension leaves his posture.
I lift my chin. “You did.”
Pursing his lips, he glances at the busy hub of the club. “How about I go to the bar and get us drinks?”
“That would help.” Now that we’re talking about talking, the nerves have set in.
“All right. Do you want…”
“Gin and tonic. I’m a G and T girl now.” I smile when he nods, those ice blue eyes looking surer with every word we exchange.
“Be back in a minute.” He squeezes my hip and brushes his lips over my mouth before he heads to the bar.
I slip into the booth and study his broad back in a suit jacket that fits across his wide shoulders and tapers perfectly to his narrow hips. Everything about him is mouthwateringly attractive to me. Is this crazy? Pursuing something with my best friend’s ex?
My phone beeps with a notification. Everett messaging to let me know he won’t be coming and telling me to have fun catching up with Gray. If the idea of ending things via text didn’t make me hate myself more than I already do, I’d tell him right now just so I don’t have to carry any more guilt.
Everett’s only the tip of the iceberg compared to how I feel when I think about Indy.
Gray smiles as he returns to the booth with a beer and my G and T. I abandon my phone on the table. It can wait.
Placing the drinks down, he scoots in beside me until our knees touch.
“How did I not notice…”
“What?”
“I feel like I should be having a heart attack right now with how gorgeous you are…” His fingers graze the side of my throat before gripping the back of my neck while he leans in to kiss me.
God, if this is crazy… I don’t want to be sane. After all these years he’s not looking at me as his girl’s best friend. He’s looking at me like I’m a woman and he is a man who wants me. And I wished for that on every birthday between fourteen and eighteen. After that he was with Indy, and I realized wishes didn’t come true.
But maybe they can.
His fingers trail along the material of my halter neck, over my collarbone and down the edge of the V. “You are making me lose my damn sanity. Did you know that? You’ve never been a problem, but now… being this close to you… it’s not enough.”
I’m a problem for him? Because he didn’t want this? Or because now he does? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to come over here, Rica. Crawl onto my lap.”
My dress hikes up my thighs as I move to straddle him.
“Don’t think about it.” He stops me from tugging the stretchy material back down before he secures me in place with both hands on my waist.
“I don’t need my ass on display.”
“No one can see. We’re in too much shadow.” His big palms cover both globes as he kisses me. “And you’re hidden by the table. I bet we could fuck right here, and no one would notice.”
“You’re not serious.” My body tingles all over when he grinds against me.
There are people everywhere, but the lights are dim and the booze is flowing and I want him so much that I can’t help but roll my hips to sharpen the contact. It does nothing to ease the ache building in my core.
He catches my jaw with one hand and kisses me. “You want it, don’t you? You’re a dirty girl who likes the idea of being caught while I’m deep inside you.”
My panties are destroyed, my body is addicted. I would do just about anything when he talks to me like that.
“Will you do it, Rica? Will you be my filthy girl, and do what I say?”
“Yes,” I exhale the word on the whisper of a whimper. The way he can come into any situation and take charge has always affected me in a visceral way. But this is next level sexual catnip for a girl who likes a little bossy in the bedroom. “You like to be in control, don’t you?”
“I do.” He kisses me. “Now be a good girl. Stand up and turn around before you sit back on my lap.”
Watching the crowd to see if anyone notices, I climb off him, turn around and slide back onto his lap while he discreetly unbuttons his pants.
His hard cock throbs against my panty-covered pussy when I lower back down. If I’d known we’d end up like this I would have come without them.
Then again, I always seem to end up in the same predicament when it comes to Gray. Perhaps I’ll stash a fresh pair in my purse for next time and leave the ones that I’m wearing at home.
“Lean forward,” he tells me. “Pick up your drink. And take a sip, but don’t swallow.”
I pick up the cocktail and lift it to my lips as his hand travels over my thigh and between my legs. He hooks one finger into the lace of my panties and tugs it aside. I almost spill the drink when he thrusts into me.
“Careful.” His voice promises wickedness as I place the glass back down. Under the table his fingers dig into the front of my panties and play over my clit. “Now, I want you to spit it in my mouth.”
Holy shit. I almost inhale the alcohol as I twist my head. He mashes his lips to mine, and I spit the fluid into his mouth. It feels personal. He’s inside me, fucking me so slowly, but this feels more intimate.
He shudders, a groan escaping him. “Rica.”
The way he says my name before he drives his tongue into my mouth to taste every crevice. I can make him feel things that make him lose control. It makes me feel powerful. A girl could get addicted to making the man she’s in love with go feral for her.
Eventually he pulls back. “You’re going to finish that drink without spilling a drop, and the entire time I’m going to be inside you.” He nips at my earlobe. “And playing with this.”
He rubs my clit. It’s all I can do not to moan.
The icy liquid does nothing to quench the heat as he fucks me slow and shallow so that no one notices the way we’re moving together. I get lost in how good and right and dirty and perfect it feels. By the time I finish my drink I’m ready to combust.
Taking the empty glass from my hand, he puts it on the table, and then grasps my jaw. His tongue slips between my parted lips and swallows up a whimper I can’t hold back, while his cock scrapes all those places inside me that have me desperate to scream.
His fingers speed up on my clit. “That’s my dirty girl. Come. I want to feel it.”
An orgasm washes through me, making my inner walls spasm around him. He’s right behind me, flooding me with heat a second later while he murmurs, “Rica, what are you doing to me? I can’t get enough of you.”
I can’t get enough of him either.
My phone vibrates on the table and lights up with an incoming call.
Behind me Gray sucks in a wooden breath and turns rigid.
Indy’s timing is always perfect.