Well Suited

by Hart, Staci

  “Some people say rules are meant to be broken.” He picked up the empty box, ripping the bottom tape to break it down.

  “Those people are philistines and monsters. Rules are meant to keep people safe and bring order. Without order, it’s anarchy. Mayhem. Just think—if I broke the rules now, what would stop me from breaking them again?”

  “That’s kinda what I’m hoping for, if I’m being honest.”

  I found myself chuckling simply because I wanted to break the rules just as badly as he seemed to want me to. We’d had a total of four hook-ups, including the first. And each one had gotten progressively more difficult to ignore or forget. I’d hoped I would get the urge out of my system, but instead, I wanted to slither over to him and slide my hands into his pants so I could—

  “Kate, did you hear me?”

  I straightened up, busying myself with putting things away. “I was daydreaming again. What was that you said?”

  “Just that I love that you love rules, that they give you what you want. And then I asked if you’ve always been this way.”

  “Always,” I said without hesitation. “Stuffed animals were lined up biggest to smallest, left to right, back to front. For Christmas, I usually asked for things like drawer organizers and closet organizers and, well, really any kind or organizers.”

  “Spice organizers?”

  “Oh, yes. And Tupperware organizers. Those little racks that sort your pot and pan lids? The kind that hang over the back of the cabinet door?” I shuddered in pleasure.

  He laughed. “We have those.”

  “You would,” I said with a smile. “I love when things are tidy. When everything has a place. Chaos and I are not friends.”

  “I’d imagine not. But you have the uncanny ability to bend almost anything to your will, Tupperware lids or otherwise. Chaos stands no chance against you.”

  Another box was emptied, the rip of tape sending that other shudder down my back, the one he seemed to trigger so often. And now we’d be living together, without space or the distance of time to keep all my feelings at bay.

  I should have been worried, but I wasn’t. Not beyond a fluttering of concern that was gone as soon as it appeared.

  Maybe the rules weren’t gospel. Maybe we could redefine them. Two days seemed like an eternity to wait.

  I wanted him to kiss me, and I wanted him to kiss me now.

  I wanted him to do more than that.

  And I knew how to make him.

  All it would take was a little tube of red lipstick.

  ❖

  Theo

  The kitchen was lively, the room full of congruent noise—music playing, Amelia and Ma chatting, the pan in front of me sizzling.

  Tommy leaned against the counter next to the stove, facing me with a smirk and his arms folded across his chest. “I cannot fucking believe you got her to move in.”

  I huffed a laugh. “I cannot fucking believe you ever doubted me. It’s like you’ve never seen me go after something I want.”

  He shook his head, amused. “Katherine Lawson and my brother. It’s both baffling and perfect. How’s she doing with the actual move-in? Amelia’s been trying to give her space, but she’s been crawling out of her skin all day about it.”

  “She seems fine. I was prepared for some grumping around or maybe an argument. But earlier, she laughed out loud at a stupid joke I made and smiled. With teeth.”

  “Only you could have that effect on her. Amelia can barely get her to smile, and they’ve been best friends for almost a decade.”

  I shrugged, pushing the chicken and sauce around the skillet. “What can I say? I speak fluent Katherine.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, man. There’s no way I could just sit and wait. Once I figured out it was Amelia, there was nothing I could do but go after her.”

  “That’s because you’re a doer, and I’m a thinker. You charge in, and I strategize. Truth is, if I’d gone after her hard, she would have shut down.”

  “Oh, come on. You know you want to lock her down.”

  “Maybe I do. Slow and steady and all that.”

  The curl of his lips was my first warning. “You bust out your wedding scrapbook yet?”

  I glared at him, flicking a look over my shoulder toward the stairs. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Pick out any fancy centerpieces?”

  “Do you want to eat teeth for dinner? Because that can be arranged.”

  He laughed, saying too loud, “You had that stack of wedding magazines under your bed like they were Playboys. I swear, you looked less guilty when I caught you jacking off than you did when I caught you looking at flower arrangements in Modern Bride.”

  “I was twelve, asshole.”

  He shrugged. “No twelve-year-old boy should know what pound paper he wants for his wedding invitations.”

  “Listen, I’ve got the end game in mind, but I can’t run in, guns blazing. I’ve got to come at her sideways. The entire operation is dependent on my ability to be still and quiet while I wait. One sudden move, and she’ll bolt. The rules are the only thing keeping us together, and even at that, I’ve only got her once a week for a few hours. The rest of the time, we’re…well, we’re just friends, I guess. I’ve gotta survive the in-between without touching her. It’s maddening.”

  “How long you think she’ll hold out now that she’s living here? Think she’ll be able to keep it to once a week when you’re in each other’s space like this?”

  “Katherine has the willpower of a honey badger. Once she decides something, no cobra or wasp hive could deter her. I’ll assume nothing.”

  His eyes flicked to the stairs, and whatever he saw there made his smirk climb on one side. “Oh, I dunno. I think you could maybe assume a thing or two.”

  My brows quirked at him, and I turned to follow his line of sight.

  Katherine had just reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes down and hand on the rail. When she looked up, it was straight at me.

  She was gorgeous. Her skin was luminous, pale and glowing, her dark hair twisted up in a neat knot on top of her head. Her eyes were framed by the line of her bangs, long enough to cover parts of her brows. And those eyes were amalgamated, a blend of colors, wide and bright and sparking with energy and wit.

  Her lips, smiling in sensual challenge, were red as a stoplight. My heart skidded to a halt at their command.

  It was my own fault, I realized as she ignored me, heading for the table to sit with Amelia and Ma.

  I’d teased her this afternoon, all afternoon. She’d been begging me to touch her, kiss her, without saying a word. And I’d made sure to push her to the edge of the line she’d drawn just to leave her there, panting.

  The ball was firmly in her court. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t use whatever methods of coercion were at my disposal to lure it back into mine.

  It had been a long week, and judging by Katherine’s current display, it seemed we were both at the end of our leashes.

  Goddamn, she was so beautiful. And she’d pulled out all the stops. She never wore her hair up, and the sight of her neck, the column long and creamy white, felt almost pornographic. I wanted to bury my face there and a few other places, like in the V of her dress, which was, by all standards, modest. I wanted to undo the row of tiny buttons down the front and make it immodest. I wanted her shamelessly naked and at my disposal.

  Immediately.

  But she’d planned this. She had known when she put on a pretty black dress and twisted up her hair and put that damnable lipstick on it would drive me crazy. And that I’d have to endure the sight all through a dinner with my mother.

  Clever, clever Katherine.

  But two could play at that game.

  I cleared my throat and turned back to the skillet, cursing myself when the sauce stuck to the pan.

  Tommy just laughed. “Oh, man. Have you got it bad.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m counting the days until you lose your cool,
man.”

  “Trust me, that should be the least of our concerns. It’s her I’m worried about. One wrong move, and the whole thing will fall apart.”

  He leaned in a little, smiling wide enough to make me want to hit him. “Better lock her down quick then.”

  “You act like that hasn’t been the job all along.”

  With a laugh, he helped me plate the food, the two of us serving the women in our life. Our mother, who’d given the best years of her life to raise us alone. Tommy’s wife, who’d saved him in more ways than one. And Katherine, the one who would extend our family to another generation. The one who’d gotten her hooks in me without intention.

  The one I’d have for my own.

  Everyone was chatting, getting settled in, and I sat next to Katherine. She met my eyes, the meaning behind hers clear.

  I leaned into her, pressing my cheek to hers as if for a kiss. But instead, I whispered with lips close to the curve of her ear, “I’m gonna fuck you the second this meal is through, Kate.”

  Her breath caught. My lips brushed her flushed cheek.

  And I smiled, smug as all hell as I laid my napkin in my lap.

  “Did you get unpacked?” Amelia asked, beaming and upright in her chair.

  “I did, thank you. The only thing left to do is organize my bookshelves.”

  Tommy dished out his dinner. “How do you file them? Amelia’s are all by genre, then subgenre, then author.”

  “By genre and alphabetically by author, and my reference materials are always in Dewey order. It’s the only way I can do it without flying into a panic,” she answered. “I follow a bunch of bookstagrammers on Instagram, and the ones who organize their shelves by color give me anxiety. Sometimes, I’ll zoom in on them just to see how bad it is and have to remind myself not to look. Like when you see something in the road that might be a dead animal—the best thing is to avert your eyes and assume it’s a T-shirt.” Immediately, she flushed. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t appropriate conversation for dinner. I’m…I’m a little nervous.”

  The admission affected every face at the table, mine most of all. I reached for her hands, which were clutched in her lap. But it was Ma who spoke.

  “I, for one, love a good inappropriate conversation,” she said as Tommy served her. “With boys like mine, it was inevitable. When they were little, they’d bring bugs to the dinner table and hide rats in shoeboxes in their closets. When they were older, someone was either getting in a fight, getting in trouble from a fight, or had a wound that needed medical attention from a fight.”

  Laughter rumbled between Tommy and me.

  “Ma’s a saint,” I noted, squeezing Katherine’s hands, which disappeared under mine.

  She offered me a grateful smile.

  “How many boxes of books did you have to lug?” Tommy asked me.

  “Seven or eight,” I answered.

  “Thirty-two,” he said. “Amelia had thirty-two boxes of books. I was sure Katherine would have her beat.”

  “Oh, these are just the first wave,” Katherine assured him. “I have way more at home.”

  Amelia nodded. “It’s true. Although she’s more of a discerning reader than I am.”

  Katherine shrugged. “I mostly prefer the classics. There’s something familiar and far away about them that appeals to me. I don’t enjoy reading much fiction that takes place in contemporary times. Harder to suspend my disbelief, I suppose.”

  I let her hands go but trailed my fingers across her knuckles, the touch lingering as long as I could. Her fingers relaxed their iron grip on her napkin, smoothing it out.

  The conversation drifted around the table as we ate, but my body was attuned to her. I wished we were alone. I wished she’d waited until my mother wasn’t in the room to put that fucking lipstick on. I wished I could speed up dinner so I could drag her upstairs and do all the things I’d been thinking about for a week.

  We’d spent more than two nights, one week apart, wrapped up in each other, the “no sleeping in the same bed” rule almost moot when she left my place at four in the morning. But, alas, she’d stuck to the rules, and though it took all my power, so had I.

  But she couldn’t get away from me here.

  I wondered if she really would continue to resist. If she’d tire of me. If she’d get me out of her system and call the whole thing off. Dismiss the phases, throw on the brakes, shake my hand, and put me in my place somewhere in the friendzone.

  The only comfort was this: I got the distinct impression that, as planned, the physical contact had made the longing worse for her, not better.

  I knew it had for me. Difference was, I was prepared.

  Judging by the delicate fluttering of her lashes when I hung my arm on the back of her chair, brushing my knuckles against the back of her neck, she had not been prepared at all.

  She’d put on that lipstick without understanding that she’d declared war.

  I took every opportunity to touch her in the most modest and unassuming of places. And every touch seemed to affect her a little more, tightening the string until she was thrumming, her energy pitched as high as the thinnest guitar string. My thumb on the meat of her palm seemed to set her on fire, my knee brushing the outside of hers under the table quickening her breath.

  Like I’d said, it’d been a long fucking week.

  When the meal was through, Katherine bolted out of her chair, scooping up plates and glasses with the determination of a wide receiver running for the end zone. Into the kitchen she went, hurrying through dishes with the efficiency of a general heading into battle. And when she wiped off the table, she might just as easily have been seconds away from the whistle blowing to signal the end of a never-ending workday.

  And with that task done, the whistle did blow, along with the gasket that kept my desire in the steam vent.

  She smiled, her cheeks pink and eyes darting to me only once.

  “Dinner was lovely. Thank you all for welcoming me. I’m very tired, as growing arms and legs is much harder work than one mightrealize. So I’d like to say goodnight.”

  Amelia’s frown bordered on a pout. “But I haven’t seen you all day, and it’s only eight thirty.”

  “I promise, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, stepping into Amelia to give her a stiff hug. “The day has been very exciting, and I’d like to…decompress.”

  I barely stopped myself from laughing out loud.

  Amelia sighed, resigned. “All right. Text me if you change your mind, and I’ll come down.”

  “Thank you,” Katherine answered. “Goodnight, Tommy, Sarah.” She turned to me. “Theodore, would you mind helping me with something upstairs?”

  “Not at all,” I said as every nerve in my body jumped in unison.

  I was completely composed, and Katherine was trying to be, bless her. But her face was inconspicuous, hinting so blatantly at her actual meaning, it might as well have been a blinking neon sign that said SEX, PLEASE.

  Tommy and I shared a look, and with a brief goodbye, I followed Katherine up the stairs, shamelessly staring at her ass the whole way.

  The second we were clear of the stairs, she turned on her heel and launched herself into my arms.

  I locked her there, locked my lips to hers, breathed in the smell of her soap and shampoo and her. She smelled like books and paper, like fresh laundry and the gentle sweetness of baby powder.

  She smelled like mine. The week since I’d held her last was gone with one deep inhale.

  Her arms threaded around my neck, mine around her waist, and when I stood straight, I kept ahold of her. Her feet dangled, toes inches from the ground. I knew because they thumped my shins as I hurried toward my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind me.

  I’d thought to ask her where she wanted to be, but I couldn’t be bothered to break the kiss. So I opted for my room where we’d gone every time, guessing it was best to leave her space her own until she indicated she wished otherwise.

  I hummed a sigh as
I laid her down, fitted my hips against hers, spent a long moment exploring her mouth, cataloging the feel of her body beneath me, her hands in my hair. The warmth of her. The way she fit against me despite the difference of our height.

  When I broke away, it was to trace her face with my gaze. Red lips plumped from the pressure of mine. Lids heavy with desire. Lashes black and luxurious, fanning when she blinked. Her eyes, a kaleidoscope of color, a mosaic of blues and greens, tans and golds, the color quickly fading as the black of her pupils expanded to swallow the sight of me.

  I thumbed her bottom lip, finding myself smiling. “That was a dirty trick, Kate.”

  “Well, I wanted you to kiss me, and you wouldn’t.”

  “You know the rules.”

  “I wrote the rules.”

  A laugh hummed behind my closed lips. “You made me sit through dinner with my mother when all I could think about was fucking you.” I tsked. “I’m gonna have to get you back for that.”

  “Please, don’t make me wait,” she mewled, shifting her hips.

  I rolled mine, pressing myself into her. “Oh, it’s too late for that. Maybe if you hadn’t teased me like you did.”

  Her thighs parted wider. “But you teased me all day.” It was almost a whine, the sound so uncharacteristically needy that I laughed my surprise.

  “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t follow the rules?”

  She sighed. “You’re incorrigible, do you know that?”

  “It’s been said.” I looked down my nose at my hand as it traced the V of her neckline. “But you’re no better.”

  At that, those crimson lips of hers curled at the very corners. “It’s been said.”

  Down to the buttons my fingers trailed, a dozen tiny, shiny buttons, rounded on top and marching between her breasts. I popped one out of its loop, trying not to let the feeling of her fingers ruffling the short hairs at my nape distract me.

  “I’m gonna take my time, Kate.” I unfastened another button. “I’m not giving you what you want until you’re begging me for it.”

  Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth, her hips shifting and rolling against my cock, pressing that spot where she needed me. “If I beg you now, will you give it to me?”