“What’s the worst that can happen?” Guy asks.
I groan. Because I know what the worst is.
36
The Kill
Chase
I clench my teeth as I glare at the caller ID.
Annie.
I wonder if she’s calling me with that guy still in her bed. If I hear him in the background, I might lose my shit.
I inhale a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
“Hello?” My voice comes out gravely, my tone tight.
“Hey,” she says softly. My insides twist. How can she sound so normal? Sweet even? “I’m just checking in.”
I grind my teeth until they hurt. “Okay.”
“You all right?”
I huff out a bitter laugh. “I’m great. How about you? You all right, Annie?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and then, “You sound pissed off. What happened?”
Ha. What happened? I heard some douche bag give you an orgasm and it made me want to stick needles into my eardrums. “Long night at work.”
“I won’t keep you then…”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Do you have a song for me tonight?”
I close my eyes, squeezing them so tightly my head begins to throb. “Yeah,” I say. “The Kill. Thirty Seconds to Mars. When you listen to it, I want you to really listen to it. Hear it. Hear me.”
“Okay,” she agrees. I can hear the confusion in her voice.
“By the way,” I add, “someone left your dorm room door open tonight. That’s not safe. Anybody could have walked in.” I don’t wait for her to reply. I hit end then toss my phone onto the desk. I hate myself for saying goodbye to her, but I can’t be her friend. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt to know she’s with someone else. It’s better this way. I’d rather rip the Band-Aid off once, quick and semi-painless, than pick at it over and over, day in and day out, for who knows how long. I can’t and I won’t.
~*~
I look at the clock on the nightstand in disbelief. Why the hell is someone beating on my door at three in the morning? I sit up, pissed off because I had just fallen asleep. I flip on the lamp, squinting against the harsh light.
“I’m coming,” I say as I pull the door open.
I’m not sure what surprises me more, the fact that Annie’s standing in front of me in her pajamas looking livid, or that I’m relieved to see her standing in front of me in her pajamas, livid or not.
“What the hell does it mean?” She thrusts her iPod at me, shoving it into my hands. I look down at it, reading the song playing. I can hear the music blasting through the attached ear buds. “You’re finished with me?”
I sigh and step back, giving Annie room to come in so we don’t have to do this out in the hallway.
I forget I’m in a pair of boxer-briefs until I sit down on the couch, the pleather cold on my bare back.
“What’s it mean?” Annie demands. She places her hands on her hips, her eyes boring into mine. “Tell me,” she whispers.
“I stopped by your room after work.”
She looks at me blankly. “Okay…?”
I rake my fingers through my hair roughly. She’s going to make me say it. Fine. “I heard you. With your company. I can’t…” I trail off as my voice gives out. I still can’t say it.
“You heard me? What company? I haven’t been home all night…” Her eyes narrow and she takes a deliberate step in my direction. Her chest is rising and falling quickly with her angered breaths and she looks like she wants to dick-punch me.
“I haven’t been in my room since nine o’clock because Hannah’s boyfriend came for a surprise visit,” she states slowly. Her tone razor sharp. “It’s their anniversary. What did you hear?”
Oh.
Shit.
My eyebrows rise in revelation. And then I smile. Because I’m happy. She’s pissed. But I’m ready to start river-dancing or some weird shit. Annie didn’t do a rich douche bag.
“I, um… I’m sorry,” I say. “I heard them and—”
“And you just assumed it was me. Having sex with someone else in my room.”
Ouch. Does she need to say it like that? “Yes?”
She slits her eyes, her lips pressed so firmly together the surrounding skin whitens. And then she kicks me in the shin.
“Damn it,” I hiss. “I said I was sorry.” I look up from checking my leg for bruises—one’s already forming—and I notice a gloss to her eyes.
“Are you crying?”
A tear slides down her cheek and she bats it away. Shit. She is crying. I stand up, wanting to comfort her, but she puts her hand up in warning.
“I listened to that song over and over, trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong. I played it on repeat, trying to come up with some reason you’d do this to me. I couldn’t understand… And it’s all because you thought I was hooking up with another guy?”
Both of her hands disappear into her hair as she combs it out of her face. She starts pacing and I watch her silently. She’s been right all these years.
I’m an asshole.
And stupid.
But mostly an asshole.
Annie whirls around to face me, her hair falling right back into her face. “The hardest part for me,” she murmurs, “is how you could think—even for a second—I would want anyone in my room, unless it was you.”
Unless it was you.
I freeze. Every inch of me is still, except for my heart, racing inside of my chest.
Unless it was you.
“You want me in your room?”
She licks her lips and shoves her hair off her shoulders. “I want you…”
“You want me to what?” I ask carefully.
She shakes her head. “That’s it.” She swallows tightly. “I want you.”
I take a step, and then another until my chest is brushing hers. I lift my hand, skimming it across her cheek. I wait for it, but it never comes. She doesn’t flinch. Her gaze holds mine with determination. I can see myself reflected in her eyes and I know with certainty that’s how I always want it to be.
I bring my other hand up and gently guide her head back, angling her mouth closer to mine. I smooth my thumb over her parted lips, softly, but with enough pressure to make the plump skin move. They’re like velvet. I can feel the warmth of her breath. The moisture of her mouth. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so much.
Each heartbeat that passes while I touch her like this is agony. But the best kind.
I move in until I can taste her breath on my tongue. “I want you too,” I whisper into her mouth. I slide my tongue across her bottom lip, groaning at the sweet flavor. I nibble there for a moment, savoring.
Annie gasps and then moans against my lips.
Fuck.
Her hands trail up my bare stomach, my muscles clench and spasm in response to her soft caress. She stops on the back of my neck, her fingers locking firmly. Standing on the tips of her toes, she arches her body into me until all our points are touching. Her hips flex into mine. I drop one hand to her back, pressing her closer.
“Annie?”
Her breathing is erratic. Her eyes pinched closed. And her lips… God her lips are parted, waiting. Wet and ready for me.
“Hm?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
She nods, causing our mouths to brush once, twice, three times. She whimpers in her throat and I feel it coarse through my body. Hot and needy.
I lick my lips, but we’re so close, I catch hers as well. She quivers, her chest trembling against mine. I close my eyes and finely, finely press my mouth flush against hers. She opens for me immediately, her tongue searching.
We both make a noise at the first contact. Something primal and appreciative. I’m so hungry for her. My hands hook around the curve just below her ass and I pull her closer. Press into her harder. I’ve never been allowed to touch her like this. Taste her. Feel her. I don’t want to stop. I don’t think I would even know how.<
br />
Annie’s leg glides up mine. Higher. Higher. The movement brings us closer together. It’s the sweetest torture. I skim my hand over her leg, hooking it around my hip, and then I pick her up. Her other leg naturally wraps around my waist and I step back until I find the couch. Falling back heavily, Annie securely in my arms, I hit somewhere in the middle, jostling us, but never breaking the kiss.
As if on instinct, Annie sways her pelvis, rubbing against my lap. She’s so warm. Everything she’s doing feels incredible. But I’m a greedy bastard because I want more.
I find the hem of her thin tank top and push it up, exposing her stomach. I love the way it feels, skin to skin. I slip my hand inside and let my thumb trail the under curve of her breast. I want to do so much more, but I know I need to take it slow. It’s taken us over six years to get here. I don’t want to scare her off. She shifts, giving me better access to touch her more, which surprises me as much as it excites me. She’s not scared—she wants me to touch her.
So I do.
I go higher, working my fingers into her bra. She sighs when I meet her naked skin. My other hand skims up her leg, continues through an opening in her pajama shorts—the ones I’ve always loved—and I caress her. She feels damp and swollen, and so incredibly good.
I freeze, one hand inside Annie’s shorts, the other up her shirt. She pulls back, looking at me questioningly.
I reluctantly remove my hands from inside her clothes and pull her shirt down. “I want you so badly,” I growl. “But I don’t want to take this farther than you’re ready for.” It’s a question, not a rejection.
She stands up, her cheeks red, her hair falling to shield her from my view.
“Okay,” Annie utters. “That’s probably a good…a good idea.” She exhales roughly. “Guy’s probably wondering where I am.”
I adjust myself and pull her back into my lap, brushing my fingers through her hair. It’s messy, tangled, and I grin because I know I did that. She looks perfect like this. Disheveled hair, pink cheeks, sitting on my lap.
“You’re staying with him tonight?” She nods stiffly and I narrow my eyes. “I’ll take you back—I want to make sure you get in okay. But I need to know that you’re leaving because it’s late and you don’t want Guy to worry. Not because of this.” I gesture from her chest to mine, and then trail my thumb over her red and puffy lips. “You aren’t running from me, are you?”
Her eyes meet mine and she smiles softly. “No. No running.”
“Good,” I say. “Because, regardless of my name, with this hard-on, I don’t think I could chase you.”
37
Something Real
Annie
I couldn’t sleep last night and it had nothing to do with Guy’s couch—it’s actually extremely comfortable. It was the fact I was incapable of turning my mind off. All I could think about was Chase. That kiss. And what it will mean for us. Plus, I was so physically worked up, I actually contemplated…easing the tension myself on my step-brother’s couch. I couldn’t get past the awkwardness, so I ended up tossing and turning until the sun rose. I finally nodded off just in time for Guy to wake me while he banged around in the kitchen.
After borrowing his shower and getting myself ready for the day, I feel a little less like I got an hour of sleep and a lot more like a fifteen year old girl who just got asked to prom. I’m…almost giddy.
I bounce into the small kitchen and join Guy at the tiny folding table with mismatched chairs for a cup of coffee. Guy may not know his way around an oven to save his life, but the boy can make a mean-ass Carmel macchiato. I inhale the sweet aroma and sigh.
“You are my savior,” I say as I finger up some whipped cream and lick it off. “You have no idea how much I needed this today.” I grin before taking a long sip.
“What’s wrong with you?” Guy asks suspiciously. He flicks his finger, gesturing at me. “You’re all…bubbly.”
Regardless of cheering through my high school years, I have never been mistaken for bubbly before. Bitchy, boring, bold, blatant, blonde, these are all my B descriptives.
I think I like bubbly.
I shrug as I take another drink. “Must be you,” I say wistfully.
His eyebrow rises as his head tips forward disbelievingly. “Mm-hm.” Smirking at me, Guy pushes his chair back and places his cup in the sink. “I have class. Lock up when you leave.” He pauses in the doorway, glancing at me over his shoulder. “And don’t clean anything. I like my shit exactly where it is.”
Damn. I was totally going to alphabetize his movies as soon as he was out the door. It had bothered me all night while I tried pointlessly to sleep. I almost got up four different times to do it, but was afraid I’d wake him. I follow him into the living room, hands on my hips. “Whatever. Enjoy your disorganized life.”
“It’s not disorganized,” he corrects me. “It’s controlled chaos and it works well for me.”
Controlled chaos.
“Now there’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.”
“You’re an oxymoron,” Guy states as he picks up his backpack. He smiles proudly as he pulls the door open. “Don’t touch my stuff.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “Your mess is safe. I promise.”
Before he has the chance to reply with whatever shitty comment he has ready on the tip of his tongue, Chase is gliding down the hallway with a heart-melting grin.
“What’s up, man?” Guy says. “I was just on my way out.”
“I’m not here for you,” Chase answers. He squeezes past Guy and strolls straight toward me.
Panic fills my chest. I don’t know why, and I can’t explain it, but I completely freak out inside. As Chase stops in front of me, extending his hands to place them on—I don’t even know where, my hips, maybe?—I step sideways, ducking out of his reach.
Guy shuts the door behind him, leaving Chase and I alone, and I have the strongest desire to bolt after him.
“What the hell?”
I look away from the door, Chase’s voice drawing my attention back to him. His eyes are narrowed, watching me with disappointment.
“You said ‘no running,’” he reminds me.
“I’m not running,” I squeak.
The way he smells, fresh from the shower, has my belly clenching as he moves closer. I take a step back. He sighs as he drags his long fingers through his hair. It’s still wet and he looks agonizingly sexy.
“Back away from me one more damn time. I dare you.”
I blink in surprise. And then I cross my arms over my chest. “You don’t tell me what to do,” I say. It’s meant to be strong, forceful, but my voice quivers and the tone is completely off. I don’t know if it has more to do with the fear of talking back to a man now, or the fact that this is Chase, and I don’t know how to act.
Part of me wants to jump into his arms and pick up exactly where we left off last night. My body is still throbbing for him. From the memory of his hands on me. His fingers. His lips. His tongue…
But there’s this other part that’s so scared, and I don’t even know of what. Or why. Or…
“I didn’t tell you what to do,” Chase says, his husky voice breaking into my mangled thoughts. “I dared you.”
I tilt my head to the side, my hands slipping to my hips. He dares me? What is that supposed to mean? “That sounds like a threat.”
He doesn’t reply. The only indication he heard me is the cocky arching of his brow.
So I take another step back.
But here’s the ridiculous part… I’m shaking as I do it.
Two years ago, I would have immediately taken five of the biggest steps I could just to prove to him I wasn’t scared. And I’m not, theoretically, scared of Chase, but Loden has instilled this fear in me that, regardless of the time that’s passed, I can’t seem to get past.
My fight or flight reflex is always activated.
Chase stalks toward me and I continue to back up with each of his strides. Until I hit the wall.
>
He pauses in front of me, not touching. His hands move slowly, settling on either side of my head. My heart is racing. From fear.
From fear that he’s going to kiss me.
From fear that he won’t.
From fear that I don’t know what he’s going to do.
I take a stuttering breath as Chase leans in, his nose skimming my cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I knew you’d run.” His soft lips brush my ear, his breath warm against my skin, causing goose bumps to prickle across my arms. I shiver. “I’ll just need to give you a reason to run back.”
He shifts, his mouth hovering in front of mine. My cheeks are on fire. My entire body is burning. For him. The anticipation is too much. I inch forward, just my head, lifting my chin. I’m relenting, giving myself to him. All he needs to do is take me. But he just looks at me, his eyes watching me fixedly.
“I don’t… I don’t think we should tell anybody,” I murmur.
He doesn’t budge as he asks, “Tell anybody what?”
I lick my lips, my eyes focused on his mouth as he forms each word. “About us.”
His arms bend, bringing him closer. His chest is flush against mine. I can feel the pounding of his heart. The rough shadow on his cheek. His hair, warm and slightly damp as it falls forward.
“How can I tell anybody about us when I don’t know what we are?” He lowers his head, nestling his face into my neck. He inhales deeply as his tongue sweeps the sensitive skin at the base. “You’re in control here, Annie. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
Something comes apart with his words. Something inside of me that has held me together for my entire life. I know, because I feel it break. I feel myself break.
What do I want?
I don’t know.
But I know it involves him.
“I want…” I swipe my tongue across my lips as he pulls back enough to meet my eyes. I take a deep breath, forcing my chest to press into his tightly. And then I try again.