Josh nods soberly. “I agree with you there. Our arrangement sucked. I was tired of just being your fuck buddy and I sense you were too.”
His expression dares me to deny it, but I can’t. I don’t have the strength. And I’m tired of hiding the truth to protect my heart.
“You didn’t say anything.” I can’t help the accusatory note that manages to slip into my voice.
Lifting his hand, he slowly sifts his fingers through the heavy fall of my hair until he’s clasping the back of my head, his hold firm but gentle.
“Neither did you.”
Before I let myself be consumed by the heat of his gaze, something pricks at the edge of my conscience.
“We can’t go out now,” I protest. At the knot that appears in his brow and the what the hell are you talking about expression on his face, I explain, “Chloe’s my friend.”
“You were my friend first,” he counters smoothly.
I huff a dry laugh. “Have we ever actually been friends?”
He leans down. A breath away from my lips, he whispers, “I don’t have sex with women I don’t like—and neither do you.”
My eyes are heavy and slowly drifting closed, but somehow I manage to keep my wits about me. “You’re right. I don’t have sex with women I don’t like either.”
He makes a soft amused sound in his throat. “You know what I mean.”
I also don’t mess around with someone else’s boyfriend. It’s that thought that shakes off the lethargy seeping into my limbs. My eyes open wide and I draw back, my back pressed against the fireplace mantle.
“You can’t talk like that. Chloe’s still your girlfriend,” I reason even as my body stridently disagrees with me. It wants sex. And it wants sex with Josh. His mouth and body on mine. Him pounding me straight to orgasm.
“Not for much longer. I’m taking care of that—” He abruptly breaks off and swiftly glances at his watch. He mutters a string of curses under his breath.
Before I can ask him what’s wrong, the apartment buzzer goes off.
Startled, we automatically look at each other.
“Are you expecting anyone?”
“Oh shit,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Chloe’s coming over. But she isn’t supposed to be here until nine-thirty.”
Oh shit is right. I can’t let her find me here.
“I’m breaking up with her,” Josh is quick to reassure me. “But she has something she wants to talk to me about too and she insisted on coming here.”
What does she want to talk to him about? I give my head a shake. I can’t think about that right now. I have to get the hell out of here. I hurriedly brush by him and grab my purse off the sofa. “I’ll just get going then.”
“No!”
I nearly start at the vehemence of his voice.
“Go in my bedroom and lock the door. She won’t be here long.”
“You want me to wait in your bedroom while you talk to your girlfriend?” My voice rises to the level of incredulity. “Are you insane?”
“My soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.” He’s quick to correct me. “And if you leave now, you’re probably going to run into her.” Josh walks over and lightly palms my cheek. “Trust me. She won’t be here long. It won’t take more than twenty minutes and then I can put her behind me. I promise.”
I hate that he can do this to me—crumble my resolve so easily. “Fine,” I grouse, “I’ll wait in your room. But I’m giving you exactly twenty minutes and then I’m leaving whether she’s still here or not.” I don’t mean it and he knows they are empty words. “Now would you buzz her up so we can get this over with.”
Chapter Seventeen
Josh
I have one woman hidden in my bedroom and another sitting on my living room sofa.
This is CW level drama shit happening right here. How the hell did I get myself into this?
Forget how you got yourself into this. Find a way to get yourself out. Erin is waiting.
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask Chloe, who is regarding me in silence. It’s hard for me to gauge her mood but she’s definitely not her usual bubbly self. Instead of her customary peck on the lips, she greeted me with a light kiss on the cheek when I answered the door. This may bode well for me.
She draws in a deep breath as she weaves her fingers together on her lap. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking—about us.”
That’s an ominous beginning if I ever heard one. But only if you’re dreading getting the Dear John speech, which I’m not.
“You don’t know what it means to me—that you’ve been so patient about me being ready to sleep with you.”
Jesus. I hope to hell Erin can’t hear us.
“Most guys would have walked away by now.”
I try not to grimace but…damn. I may be minutes away from breaking up with her and she’s praising me for this? If I didn’t know better, I would swear I’m being Punk’d.
“And the fact that you haven’t tells me everything I need to know about you. About your heart.” She smiles as she places her hand over the organ in question, which is pounding like a racehorse during the final quarter mile of the Kentucky Derby. “What I’m trying to say is I’m ready.”
Like I said, CW level drama.
I gently remove her hand from my chest and hold it between my hands. “Chloe, I like you a lot but—” I pause to dislodge the words stuck in my throat. God, I hate this.
“But you don’t want to see me anymore,” she says, relieving me of the burden of having to say the words out loud.
“I’m sorry.”
Her smile kills me. It’s sad and oddly resigned. “I kinda thought that’s what you were going to say. You know, when I told my friend back in Nebraska that we hadn’t had sex yet, she said you must be gay. She said a straight, attractive guy would have at least tried to get me into bed by now.”
I laugh before I can stop myself. But then who can blame her? People need to justify actions they don’t understand. “So she thought you were my beard, huh?”
Her mouth twitches at the corner. “I told her she was wrong. But I think I also know why.”
I go still. “You know why what?”
“Why you’ve been so patient.”
The hairs on the back up my neck stand up. “And why is that?”
She studies me with a quiet intensity before stating simply, “Because of Erin.”
With the care one would take in freeing a lion’s paw from a man-made trap, I release her hand. “What about Erin?”
“You like her,” she says, her manner straightforward and direct. “No, I take that back. You more than like her. I think something happened between you two before I was ever in the picture, and I’m pretty sure it’s still there.”
Oh fuck.
After holding her gaze for a few more seconds, I inhale and exhale a long breath, angling away from her.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
I’m drowning in so much guilt, it’s hard to keep my head above water. My nod is barely perceptible. “But nothing happened between us while we were going out.” It’s imperative that she believes me. I’m not a cheater. I’m not like her ex-boyfriend.
“I know. You’re not that kind of guy. That’s why you’re breaking up with me.”
“And yet you don’t sound like you’ll be nursing a broken heart,” I remark mildly. For someone who just claimed she was ready to have sex with me, she sure seems to be taking it well.
Chloe huffs a humorless laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, Josh, I like you a lot. You’re the whole package—for the right woman. Unfortunately, that woman isn’t me. Looking back, I don’t think you ever really wanted to be with me. And now I know it’s because you’re hung up on Erin.”
Hung up is kind of a strong term. I’d rather say I’m still really into her. Then something occurs to me. “Is that why you tried to set her up with your brother?”
“Oh my goodness no,” she exclaims, looking at me aghast. “Give
me a little credit. I do have some pride. It was only after I spoke to Erin yesterday that I connected all the dots. It finally explained your reaction to her.”
Her stare turns expectant as if willing me to ask but I refuse to go there. I don’t want to know what Erin did or said to make the whole thing fall into place. Especially not with her hiding in my bedroom.
“I didn’t tell you because me and Erin were over when we met.” I run my knuckles along the side of my jaw. “And because our best friends are together.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I also want you to know that Erin isn’t involved—I mean she didn’t put me up to this. She’s not like that.”
Her smile is tinged with sadness. “Don’t worry, Josh, you don’t have to explain. And as funny as this might sound, I really like Erin. She’s always been sweet to me, and the fact she didn’t badmouth you to me speaks volumes about the kind of person she is.”
I nod in agreement. We may have spent years exchanging barbs but at her core, Erin is a sweetheart. She isn’t a pushover and comes across as boldly assertive. But at the same time she’s compassionate and fiercely loyal to her friends. I should know, I’m still carrying the scars of that loyalty.
“I half hoped she would try to talk me out of going out with you. That way, I would have a reason to hate her,” Chloe confesses. “But she didn’t. All she did was listen.”
I smile. “That’s Erin. She’s good people.”
“Yes, she is,” Chloe says as she rises to her feet. “Anyway, I need to get going.”
I silently escort her to the front door, relieved things worked out as well as they have. No recriminations or tears. Neither of us is walking away holding a grudge.
At the door, she looks up at me, her expression tender. “Josh Marshall, the woman who ends up with you is a lucky woman.”
“I feel the same about you.” And I’m not just blowing smoke up her ass. There’s no two ways about it, Chloe’s a catch and one day she’s going to meet a guy who appreciates her for the wonderful woman she is.
Rising on her toes, she brushes a kiss against my cheek. “Don’t be a stranger. It would be great if we could still be friends.”
Being friends with someone I used to date would be…novel. And something that should be outlawed if it isn’t already. I’m not exactly sure how that’s going to work.
When I don’t immediately respond, she gives a one-shoulder shrug, adding, “Or whatever you’re comfortable with.”
I decide to settle with, “Sure, that would be great.”
“Actually, you may not have a say in it.”
Really?
My raised brow earns me an amused laugh. “Not in us being friends but in seeing me around. You see, I consider Paige and Erin my friends and I don’t intend to give them up just because we’re not going out anymore.”
What?
When her response is an amused snort, I can only imagine the look on my face. Horrified probably doesn’t fully encapsulate it.
“Don’t look so thrilled.” She feigns a look of affront. “You have no idea how hard it is to make friends when you’ve moved to a new city.”
“What if Erin and I—” I clear my throat, but it does nothing to ease my discomfort. “—if Erin and I get back together?” Something I’m going to do everything in my power to make happen as soon as Chloe leaves.
“I have no doubt you will,” Chloe replies. “But if Erin doesn’t have a problem with it, I hope you won’t either.”
It’s a good thing we never had sex. A good fucking thing because this whole thing just got…weird. No, weirder.
“I guess I’ll be good with whatever.”
Chloe smiles, appearing satisfied with that. “Great. Then I guess I’ll be seeing you.”
Let’s see what Erin has to say about it.
After I see Chloe out, I head straight to my room. I open the door to find Erin curled up on “her” side of the bed. At least when we were doing our thing, it’s the side she’d end up on the few times she slept over.
“Erin.” My voice is a whisper as I make my way to her side and gaze down on her sleeping form. Her hair trails across the pillow in glossy streams of dark auburn.
Beautiful.
With her face in repose, she looks achingly sweet.
Suddenly, her eyes fly open and she bolts upright.
Looking up at me, she says, “I can’t believe I fell asleep.” She looks around, the vestiges of sleep still clinging to her. “What time is it? Is Chloe gone?”
I lower myself onto the mattress beside her. “It’s ten and yes, she just left.”
She stares expectantly at me. “So? What happened?”
“We broke up,” I state matter-of-factly.
Pushing the fall of her hair over her shoulder, Erin’s blue eyes darken, her expression unreadable. She gestures toward the open bedroom door. “I couldn’t hear anything from in here.”
“You tried?”
She snorts lightly. “Are you kidding? Of course I did, but your walls are pretty much soundproof. I know that’s probably a good selling point, but it sucks when you’re trying to eavesdrop.”
“Do you want me to tell you what we talked about?”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Okay, well, brace yourself. She knows about us,” I announce soberly.
Erin’s eyes go wide and her mouth goes slack. “You told her?” she asks in a scandalized whisper.
“No, I didn’t tell her. She said she connected the dots when she talked to you yesterday.”
Yeah, you. What did you do?
Erin is still in a state of shock. “What? But I didn’t say anything. I told you, we talked about her brother. I didn’t talk about you at all. I was her sounding board and nothing else. She was the one who brought you up.”
“Well, whatever you did, however you acted, it helped her figure it out.”
Erin buries her face in her palms and groans. “She must hate me.”
What? I shake my head. “That’s your reaction? You’re worried about what my ex-girlfriend thinks of you?”
Visibly distressed, Erin drops her hands from her face and glares at me. “She probably thinks you were screwing around with me behind her back.”
“Believe me, she doesn’t think that. She was more upset at the thought of losing you and Paige as friends than us breaking up. She actually told me that she doesn’t intend to give up her friendship with you two over this.”
Erin stills, her eyes huge in her face. “She said that?” she squeaks.
I nod.
“But she barely knows me.”
“She said something about it being hard to make friends when you move to a new city.” Except for my four years at Stanford, I’ve lived in Georgia my whole life, so I can’t say I know how she feels.
Erin scrunches her nose at me. “Would that be weird?”
“Just a little,” I reply ruefully. We may not have had sex, but let’s face it, the current and ex-girlfriend worlds are not supposed to intersect.
Alright, sometimes they do. In a perfect world, my ex and current girlfriend being friendly would be cool. The chance of them running into each other is small but it’s there. Shit happens. But them actually being friends is a whole other ballgame. There’s danger ahead in those hills.
“I guess that’s something to think about.”
She makes a move to get off the bed. But I like her right where she is. In my bed, warm and flushed.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going home.” When she tries to scoot around me, I capture her bare ankles in my hands to keep her in place.
“We haven’t finished talking.”
“Josh, will you let go of me so I can leave,” she grouses, as her legs twist futilely in my grasp. “Unlike you, I still have a forty-five-minute drive home and I’d like to be in bed before midnight.”
“You don’t have to go home. Stay the night.” Now that Chloe’s no longer i
n the picture, there’s nothing stopping us from picking up where we left off.
Erin goes motionless and swallows hard.
My gaze drops to her mouth and there’s nothing I want more in the world right now than to kiss her. And the way she’s looking at me, her pupils dilated and her eyes at half-mast, are telling signs that she wants it just as much.
Chapter Eighteen
Erin
I don’t know where I find the strength because I want to kiss him. My body is clamoring for his. But I do. Call it will-power or self-preservation, it’s all the same.
“I’m not having sex with you tonight, Josh.” My voice is firm-ish. Sort of. Okay, let’s just say it’s as firm as it’s going to get.
If I kiss him, that’s where it will lead. Me under him—or over him, take your pick. But it won’t stop at a kiss. And I can’t let that happen. Not like this. Not when his last relationship isn’t even cold in its early grave. For goodness sakes, she left the apartment less than fifteen minutes ago.
Stark disappointment flashes in his eyes. Then just as swiftly, his expression clears and he chuckles deep and low, the sound setting off tiny sparks in every one of my erogenous zones. “Okay, no sex. But I still want you to stay.”
Reluctantly, he releases my ankles. But before I can breathe a sigh of relief and corral my senses, his fingers are trailing up my leg, his touch a caress I feel in my core.
I give an involuntary shiver. Dammit, that feels good. And just like that, my muscles go slack, and I stop resisting. He’s like a riptide, the harder I fight, the greater the struggle. Everyone knows it’s the powerful undertow that gets you in the end. But shit, what a way to go.
When his fingers stroke their way over to the inside of my thigh, my entire body contracts, my pink-polished toes extend as a startled breath of air escapes my lungs. A telling gasp follows.
If I had an ounce of sense in my brain, I’d either tell him to get his hands off me or I’d remove them myself, something I’ve never been shy about doing when guys get too handsy. With Josh, I steel myself against the growing pleasure and state in a choppy voice, “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.” Oh, it’s working alright. My damp panties and stand-at-attention nipples can attest to that.
Played (Trapped Book 3) Page 14
