Straddling The Edge

by Julie Prestsater

My heart is still racing, practically thumping right out of my chest when Matty and I are finished making love for the first time in months without interruption or having to pound it out in less than a couple of minutes. “Holy son of a … fuck me,” I tell him, completely breathless.

  “That was amazing, Shel. I love you so much.” He curls his arms around me and pulls me into him so he can spoon me—my favorite way to sleep.

  “Damn, I hope Summer was as lucky tonight.” I smile at the thought. The poor girl could use some good loving. Once I was with Matt, I discovered what I was missing for all those years with Chase who was a very unskilled lover in comparison.

  “Dean could never be as lucky as me, but I hope things worked out for him tonight.”

  I tilt my head back and kiss the bottom of Matty’s chin. “You’re too good to me.”

  “You deserve it,” he says.

  “Summer deserves to be happy too. You think we should tell her Dean and Chase have history? That they have been each other’s worst enemy since we were in high school?” I know they’ve only just met, but I saw the way she looked at him, and he was no innocent bystander to her stare. His eyes lit up like neon lights in Vegas when he saw her. When he shook her hand, the heat between the two of them could have melted glaciers in Alaska.

  “Do you even know what the story is?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Chase would never tell me. We were just teenagers and I didn’t think much of it. But it’s lasted years.”

  “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think if he never mentioned it to Summer. You said she didn’t know who he was before you introduced them.”

  He has a point. Or … “Or maybe it’s so bad that he didn’t tell her so she wouldn’t ask any questions.”

  “That could be it too, I guess.” He tightens his arms around me and kisses my cheek. “Okay, enough about Summer and Dean. I have something else I’d like to talk about.”

  The hard press of his topic of conversation is poking between my cheeks right now. “Talk? Really just talk?”

  “Yeah,” he whispers, nipping a trail down my neck to my shoulder. His hand traces the length of my body, his touch creating a sizzle of heat along my skin. Reaching between my legs, he lifts my leg and hooks it back over his own. “Now, shhh. And just listen. Let our bodies do the talking.”

  Chapter 7

  Summer

  When Dean is settled on my loveseat with a beer in one hand and the remote for the TV in the other, I excuse myself to get more comfortable. It was a scorching hot day, but as soon as the sun went down, the evening turned cool and I haven’t been able to shake the chill since the graduation ceremony. The only thing that has warmed me up is Dean’s hands on me, but I’m not about to ask him to touch me, no matter how fantastic the idea sounds.

  I return to the living room wearing a pair of black yoga pants, a hot pink Adidas hoodie, and my hair pulled back in a ponytail. I even decided to wash the makeup off my face. I thought better of it at first and then decided if Chase hadn’t made Dean run for cover, my naked face sure as heck wouldn’t.

  “Wow,” he says when I plop myself on the couch next to him.

  “What? You want me to sit somewhere else? I can bring a chair from my dining table over.”

  He places his hand on my thigh to stop me. “No. I didn’t say whoa, I said wow. As in, you look great all dressed up at work, but in a sweatshirt with your hair pulled back in a sloppy mess, and no makeup,” he slides his index finger along the curve of my face, “you’re stunning.”

  Suddenly, I feel very naked. Not just my face either. “Thank you. I think. Most guys would think I’m a mess.”

  “I’m not most guys.”

  “Definitely not,” I say aloud before I can stop myself.

  He chuckles and the roughness in his throat makes me shiver.

  “You’re cold?”

  Oh my. He caught that. “Yeah, it was cold tonight. I can feel it in my bones. That’s why I changed.”

  He sets his beer on a coaster, rests his arm on the back of the sofa, and says, “Come here, I’ll warm you up.” My brows furrow, and I give him a weak smile. “Come on. I’m not trying to put the moves on you. I’m just being friendly.” He pats his chest, marking the spot where I should snuggle into him.

  “Fine, I guess I’ll take advantage of your friendship.” I scoot closer, so our bodies are touching and rest my head in the crook of his shoulder. I fumble around trying to get comfortable, not sure where I should put my hands. Dean curves one arm along my back and around my waist. With his free hand, he takes my fidgety palm and stretches my arm out across his stomach before resting his own on top of mine. At last, I’m warming up in his arms.

  I’m hoping the TV is loud enough so that he can’t hear my thoughts racing like they’re in Daytona. What the hell am I doing?

  “Is this weird?” he asks, with a soft chuckle.

  I chuckle right back, and his embrace tightens. “Which part?” I laugh again, this time a snort comes out. “The one where you had to save me from my ex-boyfriend? Or the part where I’m sitting here in your arms and we just met a couple of hours ago?”

  “I don’t want to talk about Chase, so I guess the being in my arms part.” He lifts his wrist and glances at his watch. “It’s been more than a couple hours so we’re all good.” I lift my head to peek at his smiling eyes. “Rest your head back down. We’re past the just met stage, so it’s not weird after all.”

  “You’re funny,” I tell him.

  “You warming up yet?” His hand runs up and down my arm, setting off sparks along the way, and making it hard for me to think about anything else.

  “Umm hmm,” I murmur. Wait, is he trying to get rid of me? Done warming me up? “You don’t have to do this anymore. I’m warm now. I can sit up and give you space.”

  “Shhhh,” he says, relaxing his head against the soft cushions of my sofa. “You’re fine. This is nice. I like it.”

  “Me too.” More than you know. The constant beat of his heart thumps under my ear, and his woodsy spicy scent has all my senses on heightened alert. Clouded by his closeness, I allow my fingertips to rub slow circles over his side. I sigh. “You make me feel warm … and safe.”

  “Summer, you’ll always be safe in my arms.” He presses his lips to the top of my head and I could just melt right into him.

  “Contrary to what most people believe, I don’t have a lot of experience in this department. But with the few arms I have been in, safe is not one of the feelings I’ve ever had.”

  He seems to pull me closer, so much so that there is no space between us. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m happy I can make you feel that way.”

  “Did it just get weird?” I ask, suddenly worried that this is taking an unexpected and awkward turn.

  “Not at all. Like I said before, I like it.”

  Again, I raise my head to get a better look at him. So that I can get lost in those eyes—the ones that are zeroing in on me like the crashing waves of the ocean.

  His lips are on mine, and I all but blackout from the sheer pleasure of it all. He doesn’t move his mouth or try to deepen the kiss. It’s just the hard press of moistened lips to lips, and when he backs away, my eyes are still closed and my lips are still puckered trying to savor every second of it.

  Dean reaches for the remote, clicks off the TV, and relaxes back into the sofa again. The room is dark except for glowing light switches on the walls. “That was perfect,” he whispers. “Now get some rest.”

  “Here?” I have a perfectly comfortable bed in my room that I wouldn’t mind sharing.

  “Yeah, you’re warm and safe and I’m comfortable.” He runs his fingers along my arm, the one that is across his waist. “Good night, Summer.”

  “Night, Dean,” I murmur. And then I doze off, still imagining the sweet taste of his mouth on mine, and longing for more. So much more.

  I wake up, stretching out across my bed in all directions, completely rested and full of hope.
Something I haven’t had in so long I almost forgot what it felt like. Dean is responsible for that, and I can’t help but smile just thinking about him. It’s been almost two months since Chase and I broke up and I thought I’d never recover. But since that first night when I saw Dean at the brewery, I haven’t cried for Chase once. The sadness and loss I once felt is gone. And it’s been replaced with hope. Lots of hope.

  I stretch my arms over my head and point my toes, sighing dreamily at an image of Dean playing in my mind.

  Then it dawns on me. I’m in my bed. I flip back the covers and sit up so quickly, my head sways with dizziness from the sudden movement.

  My cell rings and I look around. I usually put it on my night stand before I go to bed. It must still be in my purse, which I left where? Oh, on the kitchen table.

  I must have torn off my hoodie in the middle of the night because I’m wearing a baggy black tee and my yoga pants when I shuffle into the kitchen to find my phone.

  “Hey,” I say, when I finally find it at the bottom of my bag.

  “Yeah, good morning to you too.” Mel is way too chipper in the morning. “How’s Dean?”

  “Is that what you called for?”

  “Details, baby? I want the juicy gossip.”

  “There’s none to tell. I woke up this morning and he was gone.” I noticed the empty sofa on the way to the kitchen. There was a folded blanket on the seat cushion but definitely no Dean. “No, I didn’t sleep with him. We fell asleep on the couch. He must have jumped ship as soon as I conked out. He’s gone.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m still here.” I look up, and sure enough, he’s standing right there. Every sexy inch of him.

  “Mel, I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”

  “Did I just hear Dean?” She practically squeals.

  “Uh huh, I gotta go.”

  “No way … don’t hang up. You gotta …” Before she can say anything else, I end the call and put my phone on the table.

  “Good morning,” he says, his voice even deeper after hours of rest. I don’t say anything at first. I’m distracted by the sight of him. Dean must have taken a shower. His hair is damp, and so is his chest. Oh my. His chest is bare and on display like a buffet of my favorite desserts just waiting to be eaten. Like a Sugar Daddy caramel pop just waiting to be sucked on. His jeans hang low on his waist exposing the most delicious V cut into his mouthwatering hips. I must look like a pervert with my tongue hanging out and drool dripping down my chin.

  I blink several times wondering if my eyes are deceiving me … wondering if there really is a half-naked Sex God in my kitchen standing there for my eyes to feast on. When I’m convinced I’m not dreaming, I finally say, “I’m not disappointed. I would have been if you’d left without saying goodbye.”

  “Good,” he closes the distance between us and bends down, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “How about a cup of coffee?”

  “Sounds great.” He moves through my kitchen like he belongs here. He fills the Keurig with water and places the little cup in the brewer like he knows exactly what he’s doing. He finds two mugs in the cupboard, puts one under the dispenser, and turns on the machine.

  “How do you like your coffee?” he asks, as the first cup finishes brewing. He removes it and starts another.

  I stand and take a few steps toward the fridge. “I like my coffee all girlie. Lots of vanilla flavor.” I take out the quart of French vanilla creamer and place it on the counter. “How about you?”

  “Vanilla is good. I’m a latte kind of guy too. I don’t drink it black.” He places a cup in front of me. “I hope you don’t mind that I used your shower. I didn’t want to waste time going home before we go to breakfast and get your car.”

  He remembered. How thoughtful. “I don’t mind at all.” I add the flavor to my coffee and pass the creamer to him. I lean toward him and inhale. “You smell good.”

  “I smell like you.” He leans over me and takes a whiff of my hair. “Like sugar cookies.”

  “That’s more vanilla. All of my products are scented the same. Boring, I know. But, I can’t do flowery strong scents. They give me a headache.”

  He smiles and my stomach flutters. “Cookies are better than flowers.”

  “You can eat cookies,” I joke.

  Dean winks at me. “Exactly,” he says, and then brings his coffee mug to his lips, his mouth displaying one hell of a sexy grin.

  When I emerge from my bedroom, ready for whatever the day has in store, Dean has a wicked sexy smirk on his face. He takes a deep breath, shaking his head.

  “What? We’re just going to breakfast right? Should I have put on something more sophisticated?” I look down at what I’m wearing. A pair of denim cropped pants, folded up at the calf, a black loosely-fit cowl-neck tank top, and some small dangling earrings. I guess I could have put on some nice sandals rather than a pair of platform flip-flops, but I felt so comfortable with Dean last night, I thought I didn’t need to put on a show today. I was kind of hoping he might like the casual me. Not the extreme makeover version of myself.

  “You look stunning. You don’t have to change a thing.”

  Slowly, I walk toward him and don’t stop until I’m an arm’s length away. “Really? Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You’re gorgeous.” He reaches for my hand and holds it lightly.

  I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m not used to dressing like this. Or not taking over an hour to style my hair and put on makeup.” I just pulled my damp hair into a twist and secured it with a cheap clip, brushed on some mineral powder and mascara, and finished the look with some Buxom lip gloss.

  “Why not?” He holds up his free hand. “Wait, don’t get me wrong. You look beautiful at work, all done up to perfection. But the woman who caught my eye was the one at the brewery who was laid back and easy going. The one who just walked out of that door just now.”

  “Really?” I squeal. What did I ever do to deserve his kindness? He’s making me blush and making tears flood to my eyes. My heart is touched. And if I don’t watch out, my heart could fall in love with this man if he keeps charming me like this. While I’m sure I’ve moved on from Chase, I’m not so certain I’m ready for an instant relationship again. It’s just too soon, right?

  “Yes, really. But hey, it’s up to you. Whatever you’re comfortable in is fine by me.” He pulls my hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand. Every time he does something like that, a little piece of my heart attaches to him, clings to him like he could be the last decent man on earth. “Now, let’s go eat.”

  Chapter 8

  Summer

  I have to admit I was a little surprised to get a text from Shelly asking me to meet her and Mel at the brewery. And I also have to admit it made me a little happy. I’m dying to talk to someone about Dean and it’s not like I really want to call my mother.

  When I walk into the tasting room, the girls are already there. Where are their babies? I thought once you had a child you were destined to eighteen years of diaper bags and a kid hanging off your side.

  “Hey, ladies,” I tell them, a nervous smile on my face. “Thanks for the invite.”

  Mike, the owner, steps over and places a dark ale in front of me. “Hey, sweetie, nice to see you. Thanks for bringing in new customers.”

  “Thanks, Mike. So you met the girls?” I ask.

  “Sure did. This one is a spunky little thing,” he says, patting Mel on the shoulder. “I offered her a job.”

  Mel laughs. “Honey, I would take you up on that if I knew a damn thing about beer, but I’m more of a dessert wine kind of girl.”

  “Ugh,” he grunts. “Just stab me in the heart with your evil words.” We all chuckle at the display of poor acting as he holds his chest in fake pain. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Will do,” I tell him as he walks back behind the bar. “Already making an impression, huh?”
r />   Shelly nods. “This girl makes an impression everywhere she goes. Are you surprised?”

  “Not at all,” I tell them. “What did you do, Mel?”

  “He was talking crap about my wine so I challenged him to a pissing contest. Told him I could piss farther than him so he wasn’t as manly as he thought he was with his sophisticated brew.”

  I almost spit out my first sip of my so-called sophisticated brew. “You’re too much.”

  “Tell me about it,” Shel says. “Actually tell me how you think you can piss anywhere but straight down. Do you have a magical vagina or something?”

  “Ask your brother,” Mel says with a wink.

  Oh my. I’d love to be able to drink my beer in peace without spitting it out all over the table, but Mel just keeps them coming and I can’t hold back the laughter.

  “All right, all right, let’s get down to business,” Mel says. “Stop spilling your beer everywhere, Summer, and spill the fucking beans. Inquiring minds want to know.”

  Here it goes. I knew that’s why they invited me here, and it’s exactly why I came. Some much needed girl talk.

  I start out by telling them how we’d said our goodbyes in the car, but then my run-in with Chase changed that and Dean ended up coming in.

  “What the hell is his problem?” Mel shouts. “I don’t get it. He did this shit to Shelly too. He acts like a total dick and breaks up with you, and then won’t let go. Someone needs to knee him in the balls.” Shelly and I just stare at her wondering if she’s done with her outburst. “What? You want me to do it? I don’t mind taking one for the team. I’d gladly bring the bastard to his knees.”

  “Ouch,” Mike says, wincing behind Mel. “Can I get you ladies another round?”

  “No, thank you,” Shelly answers. “Being responsible sucks.” I’m assuming things have changed for her since she had Noah. She used to drink like a fish. Literally, used to drink out of glasses the size of a fish bowl. Now, she’s saying no to a second round of beer. Good for her. Mel shakes her head too.