by Melissa Blue
Victor finally pulled back after she'd moaned.
“Anything more than this and I'll have to tell Porter.” His hands made their way under the sheet. “No argument will budge me, and you should know that.”
She jerked on his hair, hating his words and maybe him a little.
He laughed though. “Violent, aren't you?”
“That was me fighting the urge to head-butt you.”
“Why?”
She met his gaze and could see the truth. “Because you're a man of your word. You'll tell Porter we're fantastic at sex with each other if we try to carry on an affair. You'll do that no matter how much that will screw everything up.”
“Then you understand that's the line I won't cross.” He pressed his thumb to her lower lip then dragged it over the soft flesh. “I've known you forever and not once have I touched you like this.”
And there he was, being horrible for her ego once again. Didn't any woman want to believe she was the one who could make a man lose himself?
“Victor—”
“You said my full name.” His brows rose. “You're serious.”
She’d planned to say something else but from the way his jawline hardened, he'd prepared the firing squad in his mind. Anything she uttered would end up riddled with holes.
“It was sex,” she said anyway. “You're not even thinking about taking me to get endless pasta and salad. So eloping is off the table.”
Yeah. There was that stubborn look she hated.
Ash shook her head.
“It's that simple for you?” He spread the words out like he had to speak with care.
She searched his face for a reason why. His guarded expression revealed nothing. When she'd kissed him in the kitchen, she hadn't been thinking happily ever after. She liked him when he wasn't being a dick. She loved him like she loved everyone in the Goon Squad. But forever? A cold hand gripped her heart. Could she love anyone that long...without hurting them?
She shook her head again. “Yes. This was just sex, Vic. Long overdue, but nothing more.”
“I see,” he said, no inflection in his voice.
But she couldn't see what he meant. What more was there? Lust had been making them crazy, and they'd tossed alcohol onto those feelings. Surprise, they were good in bed. Outside it? She didn't know.
Their interactions over the years had always been framed by the hard limits of what they shouldn't do. And that meant Victor couldn't know what they could be outside those restrictions either. This was all new and confusing and ending before they could start and find out for sure.
Do I want more?
Why taunt herself with someone she could never have any way? She was a lot of things. Masochistic wasn't one of them.
Deciding to share her frustration at the unanswerable internal questions, Ash tugged on his hair again, and he laughed again, likely knowing his response had set off a mental landmine.
Ash dropped her hand onto the mattress. “I knew what I was doing, Vic. I wanted you. You wanted me. Still do. Both of us. Yes, it's that simple.”
His jaw clenched and the air seemed to crackle around him. “And Porter?”
“My brother will be pissed. If he really gets himself going, he'll be hurt and the world won't make sense to him anymore. But his need isn't reasonable, or entirely rational, either.”
“Doesn't matter. He asked for it.”
That was simple for Vic to understand and to honor. And that right there was why Porter and Vic were friends. They both had a habit of taking on responsibilities that weren’t theirs to take. Often her responsibilities. She flicked her gaze to Victor's. Yeah. It hurt that they could think so little of her. She could slay her own dragons, but they would never let her lift her sword. It was their job, never hers.
Victor took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Once I walk out that door, we're done. I'm not going to smile in my friend's face, knowing—”
Her oh-please side-glance seemed to cut off his speech before he could really begin it.
“Porter probably still has a hit out on Owen for taking my virginity in high school,” she said, “So I don't go around telling my brother about the men I sleep with.”
He tilted his head, disbelief clear on his face. “You have to know this is different.”
She clutched at the cool sheet. “Is it?” she asked honestly.
She wasn't in denial or being stubborn. How she felt about Vic was the same way she'd felt about him since forever. If anything happened to him, it would feel like a mortal wound. But she'd be just as grief stricken if anything happened to anyone in the Goon Squad. They were as much part of her life as her brother. No, she wasn't part of their group, not really, but they treated her like a sister—too precious for the world.
Except for Victor, and those reasons had played out in her kitchen and then her bedroom...
Ash said to explain, “If you cut out the fact that we've known each other since grade school, what makes this anything more than answering a physical need?”
He narrowed his eyes. For a moment, she thought he'd say something. Instead, Vic dragged his hand down to her nape and then tilted her head back before kissing her softly.
Her heart kicked into overdrive. He could make her forget gravity existed when he kissed her. She felt weightless but the unspoken words between them forced her to pull away. “That wasn't a goodbye kiss.”
The scowl was back as he looked down at her. “I'm taking the job if your boss calls.”
“Oh?” She blinked, surprised at the change in subject.
“Yup. Your company is small. I like small.” He kissed her again, harder.
That definitely wasn't a goodbye.
“Oh,” she murmured against his mouth.
He sucked on her bottom lip, and for the first time since he'd walked into her apartment, a smile ghosted in the corners of his mouth. “I haven't walked out the door yet and it's early Saturday morning...”
She got it then. “Then why did you get dressed?”
He edged away, his gaze unreadable. “Because this isn't casual, no matter what you've convinced yourself to believe.”
She cupped his face, but shook her head. “We're scratching an itch.”
“Right,” is all he said.
Whatever this was wasn't love and would hurt Porter. In short, “this” was an unmitigated mess that she didn't want to end, not yet. And that's exactly what Victor had planned to do.
And Ash?
She brought Vic in for another kiss, falling off the sharp edge of lust again. When she landed, she'd take stock of her injuries and go from there, and hoped like hell her brother didn't find out.
CHAPTER FIVE
~Gamer Truth: Crashing the car can be more fun than winning the race.~
Brew and Bagel screwed up Victor’s order. Had to be a Monday morning. Normally, he would have forgiven that since most of the workers were co-eds at the university down the street, but the pretty blonde barista had added whipped cream and cinnamon to his plain black coffee. They always added bullshit to his caffeine. It was almost like the workers didn't believe he just wanted coffee in a big-ass cup.
He scowled down into the concoction that sat on the counter and then at the barista smiling at him. “Black coffee. Biggest you've got. That's what I ordered.”
He pushed the cup across the short counter and her shoulders lowered. “All right, Mr. Yang.”
She knew his last name. So word got around about him and still they didn't believe he wanted plain coffee. There had to be a life lesson in that, but to give a shit, he needed caffeine first.
Someone behind him moved much too close. Victor tensed, alert and ready.
A familiar voice said, “I'm coming up behind you. Don't kill me with your pinky.”
It was too early in the morning for humor, so Victor turned his disgruntled look to Wade. “Why are you here? You work nights, so shouldn't you be asleep.”
“Well, I'm definitely being much nicer to
the help.” At that moment, the barista brought another cup.
Not for one second did Victor believe there was actually any coffee under all the whipped cream and caramel. The damn thing even had a cherry. Who ate maraschino cherries with their coffee?
“Thank you, Lizzie,” Wade said. “You're perfection.”
Lizzie walked away without giving Victor his order and that meant he'd have to wait an eternity for his plain fucking coffee.
“So...” Wade said, not taking his attention from his—Victor wouldn't call that shit coffee.
Took him a second to realize his friend didn't add anything else to the statement. Since Victor was still waiting on his coffee, he said without an ounce of patience, “What?”
They held each other's gaze.
Wade and his brother Grady looked so much alike. Both had sandy brown hair, blue eyes, strong jawlines and athletic builds. That was where the similarities started to diverge. Wade was the surfer to Grady's hipster. Wade was an astrophysicist working at the local observatory and Grady was an instructor at Cal State. Wade was blunt, a bit of an asshole. Grady was...home for everyone.
And at the moment, Victor would have preferred Grady staring him down from behind his black-rimmed glasses.
Wade ate the maraschino cherry, his gaze seeking. His friend murmured, “You're on edge. What's up?”
This was Oliver territory, talking about emotions. Victor's attitude had to be more shitty than usual if Wade felt the need to point out the tension.
Yeah, well, Victor had spent a good portion of his weekend in Ash's bed. He didn't regret his time spent with Ash, only that his actions would dig a knife into Porter. Just how much of an asshole did that make him?
A big one.
Asshole of epic proportions. So today was the first day of dispensing a slew of lies he'd have to tell for the rest of his life.
Victor scrubbed a hand down his face. “It's Monday morning and I'm headed to a new job.”
Ash's boss had called him late Sunday, and as he'd told her, he'd accepted the offer. Victor worked freelance, he couldn't say no to any job that could hold him over for a few months. So what if it was at her job? He'd left her Sunday at the crack of dawn with no intention of repeating the weekend. Touching her, kissing her, fucking until they were both spent—yeah. Victor was an Ash-holic who would need meetings, a sponsor, and a twelve step program just to ensure he didn't fall off the wagon.
Wade scoffed. “Ashley,” his friend added without hesitation.
Every one of Victor's muscles coiled. Wade was solid. He was also honest and abrasive. It was why they got along, and often opened up to each other even if to no one else in their group. But some days...
“What do you mean?” Victor's tone said “fucking drop it.”
“I spent a lot of my teens on the outside looking in. I couldn't talk to you guys about my work. I couldn't talk to the people at work about my friends, my life. So I learned to pick up on subtle shit. So...” Wade said and then demolished the whipped cream.
Victor’s friend had never intended to finish asking the question. Wade had only expected a confession.
Victor had had all of Friday night and Saturday to think about what had happened and why it could never happen again. Unfortunately, he kept getting caught up in memories of Ash's thighs pinning his ears as he licked her. Of Ash moaning. Of Ash coming.
Ash, no longer Porter's sister in his mind. The only woman he'd ever denied himself.
Every reason to stay away from her was better than the next, but her kiss had broken his resolve. A kiss had fucking turned him inside out. And Ash had wanted to call it “just sex.”
The barista chose that moment to bring him his plain coffee. “Thanks,” Victor said.
He took a long sip to give himself time to cool his temper and to answer Wade's probing question.
Apparently it was one second too long because Wade's gaze narrowed. “If it had nothing to do with Ash, you'd have said something by now.”
They all felt protective of her. She was two years younger than all of them combined. She grew up with them. No man was good enough. Victor would never be in the running. He'd killed men. He'd washed friends and colleagues from his bomb suits when shit went south. He still sometimes slept with a gun under his pillow. One of her favorite colors was pink, for God's sake. She didn't need a man like him to come home to.
Years and years had passed but sometimes he still couldn't shake that feeling of having a target on his back just for being an EOD tech. IEDs were still taking down soldiers even though the war had moved to another country.
Some days were harder than others. Some people he'd never feel safe to even sleep around. That was why he'd left Ash's place so early. She'd dozed, but he hadn’t trusted himself to do the same, and he couldn't have stayed without sleep digging at him.
Again, he'd been quiet for too long.
Victor said to break the thick silence, “She thinks I'm the same pimply-faced boy who came over to Porter's to play on his Sega.”
“And you're not?”
“You know I'm not.”
Wade cursed. “Yeah. I do.”
He didn't want to see that disappointed look pinned on him, so Victor walked out of the coffee shop. Too many people were crowding into the place anyway.
Wade followed close behind. “Victor...”
The short hold Victor had on his temper snapped. “God, Wade. You just don't let up, do you?”
His friend shrugged. “I prefer logic, and logic here states something happened with Ashley that put you on edge.”
“What logic told you that?”
“Since you came back, Ashley is the only thing that puts you on edge. And, friend, you're edging toward a cliff.”
Victor tilted his face to the sky. “You know what I wish for?” He didn't wait for a reply. “I wish a woman would come into your life and make you stupid. You're going to apply every mathematical theory you know to her, and she still won't make sense and you still won't walk away from her.”
Wade seemed to consider that. “I'll try not to blink and miss her.”
“Screw you, Wade, you arrogant bastard.”
His friend shook his head and started toward his car. “People say they want honesty, but when you give it to them, they get shitty about it.”
“Fuck. You. Wade.”
The other man laughed. “I won't tell Porter you're having wet dreams about his sister. He'll kill you. And he'd never let you take her home again if he knew.”
Victor's heart stopped. “Porter told you I drove her home?” His voice was low and tight.
“He did.”
Whatever had coiled inside Victor loosened. Wet dreams. Wade thought that was how far things had gone. He didn't know. Vic hated to lie, but Wade wasn't the only one who people-watched.
He took a sip of his coffee before saying, “And I won't tell Porter you have the same damn problem.”
A rush of color filled Wade's face. They got along because they were both darker than the rest of their friends.
And Ash was the light.
“Yeah,” Wade muttered. “You aren't the same man who left for war.”
“Six years in the service, what did you expect?”
Wade grinned, his gaze lit with amusement. “I miss the kid who pooped rainbows.”
Victor snorted at that bald-faced lie. “I was never that kid.”
But Victor, back before he’d done his training and his tours, would have been the kind of guy who would have detailed his every experience while in Iraq. He grew up in a middle class home, fourth generation American. His great-grandparents had wanted to assimilate. His parents hadn't known anything different.
Hell, from what they'd told him, they had clung tighter to the “just blend in” philosophy during the Korean War after seeing how America had treated anyone who looked remotely Asian amid World War II. They'd shucked anything about themselves that made them different to avoid discrimination.
Su
re as shit didn't change the fact most people assumed Victor knew Mandarin, because he had to be Chinese and didn't Chinese people speak Mandarin? He was also, supposedly, a Kung Fu and Karate master. And more importantly, he must be related to Jackie Chan. Instant street cred.
Anything to make him stand out or that happened in his life that was extraordinary, he blabbed about it, but going to war was different. He’d entered basic training in Florida and had never spoken about any of it in great detail even to his friends.
He’d craved stories about home. All his friends had stayed in touch, but his anchors during his deployment had been Porter, Grady, and Ash. If not for them, he probably wouldn't have been able to piece himself back together when he got back home.
But he would never again be that pimply-faced boy who joined the military to fight for the country his great-grandparents had escaped to for a better life.
So he met his friend's gaze and asked, “Anything else you want to know?”
Wade tilted his head. “You make poking at you no fun.”
Victor shrugged, not feeling sorry about that at all. “Probably not. Still haven't answered why you came to Brew and Bagel.”
“Grady. He finally wanted to meet with some advisors so he can get started on his PhD. I called in some of our father's favors. It's too early in the morning. I needed sugar and coffee after kissing ass. Saw you and...” He shrugged.
They just stood there on the curb in a comfortable silence. Wade didn't push for anything more. He likely assumed the truth would come out eventually or that he knew it all. Knowing Wade, it was the latter.
Victor chugged down more coffee and felt a little more human. “So...”
Wade cut a glance at him. “No wonder I like you. You're a jackass.”
“Awww. Am I giving you warm and fuzzies?”
“Jerk.”
Victor’s mind went right to Ash and that she'd been watching Supernatural, so he took his insult inspiration from the show. “Bitch.”
Shit. His life was a fucking mess, again. He was a shit human being, again. At the first opportunity he had had, he'd pinned Porter's sister down and kissed her like her mouth was his very salvation. He'd fucked her and left her apartment like she could be forgettable. How could he confess that to any of his friends? Porter wouldn't be the only one to wring his neck.
