by RC Boldt
“Those two are something else, huh?” Pearce remarked quietly. Tate glanced over at him but his eyes were still on the couple. If she weren’t mistaken, there was a faraway look in his eyes.
“Yeah. They’re something else, all right.” Directing her attention back to Laney and Zach, her lips tilted up at the corners. “She fought it forever, and just when we all thought it was too late …” Crap. Was she getting choked up just retelling—remembering—how her friends had nearly missed out on their happy ending?
“But, all of sudden, it wasn’t too late?”
“Exactly,” she answered softly.
“She reminds me of my sister. Full of sass and fierceness.” Pearce’s lips curved into a smile. “People like that aren’t quick to jump on the love bandwagon. But when they do, they love wholeheartedly.”
It was clear he had much affection for his sister. “Where does she live?”
“She’s lives on the Gulf Coast. In Pensacola.”
“Well!” A heavy arm slung over Tate’s shoulder, pulling her away from Pearce. Lawson’s blue gaze met hers. “I’ve got to head out and get my beauty sleep.” Turning his cheek toward her, he said, “Kiss goodnight from my favorite girl?”
Tate pressed her lips together to suppress a smile before speaking. “Oh? I’m your favorite girl, now?”
“You’ve always been my favorite, Tatey-poo.” He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “I just didn’t want the others to get jealous.”
Raising up on her toes, she gave her friend a quick kiss on his cheek.
Closing his eyes as if in euphoria, he let out a loud sigh. “My night is complete.”
“Complete, if you count his one-handed visit later in his bedroom,” came a mumbled response.
All heads whipped toward Langley, who shrugged nonchalantly. While, Lawson, of course, looked pleased. Interesting.
“Strangely, I’m aroused by your insult laden words,” Lawson replied with a cocky smile. “And this clearly means you’re thinking about me in my bedroom …” He trailed off with a pointed look, raising one eyebrow. Langley’s stare merely made Lawson’s smile widen.
Clearing his throat loudly, Miller said, “And, on that note, I’m calling it a night.” The others voiced their agreement. Miller nodded at her with a small smile before heading toward his Jeep. She vaguely heard the others’ good-byes, mumbling a distracted greeting to her friends as they left, as her attention had been pulled in a different direction.
And, damn, if her eyes didn’t follow Miller’s form as he walked away. Those broad, muscular shoulders pulling his T-shirt taut, muscles in his toned legs flexing with each step he took. He had always been a fit guy, but now … now, he was insanely fit; ripped, even. Her fingers twitched with the desire to touch him, to see just how firm he was. To see if he felt as good beneath her fingers as he had—
“There’s a past, there.” Pearce’s words came out as a statement rather than a question, jerking her from the treacherous path her thoughts had taken.
Had she been standing here, alone with Pearce, ogling Miller? Yeah. She had. Like a freaking lovesick little girl. Puke-worthy didn’t even begin to cover that.
“Um … yes. But it was a very long time ago.” She attempted to add more firmness to her words.
Pearce’s brown eyes studied her as they stood, now alone, in the parking lot, the sounds of music trickling out from the nearby bars in the downtown area. Sliding his hands into his pockets, his mouth quirked into a grin which was tinged with sadness.
“Sometimes the past has a way of coming back to settle its unfinished business.”
She made a face. “We definitely don’t have any unfinished business.” Shaking her head as if to add emphasis to her statement, she added, “Our ‘business’ was finished long ago.”
“So … there aren’t any lingering feelings there?”
“Besides some irritation, you mean?” she quipped, trying to lighten the tone of their conversation.
Slowly nodding, his eyes watched her intently before he took a step toward her, closing the distance. Reaching a hand out, he gently smoothed a few stray strands of blonde hair which had been tousled by the light breeze.
Leaning in, his dark gaze flitted from her lips to her eyes. “So it wouldn’t be an issue if I were to kiss you, right now?” Those words, spoken in a low, husky tone, washed over her and she felt as if she could get lost in the depths of his eyes.
She moved so that her lips brushed ever so slightly against his own as she spoke. “No issue whatso—”
Her words were cut off when Pearce’s lips found hers, swallowing her words in a sweet kiss. His lips sipped at hers, hands sliding up to cup her face, the slight calluses on his fingertips grazing her skin. And, she felt … nothing.
Huh.
Something must be off with her. Deciding to test it, Tate ran her hands up along Pearce’s firm chest to slide her fingers through his short, dark hair. Lightly grasping his head, she tilted her own, slanting it to deepen their kiss. And when she slid her tongue past his lips to touch his own, it felt like she were … kissing her brother. If she had one, that is.
They both broke the kiss simultaneously, rearing back to stare at one another.
“Huh.” His one-word utterance was spoken in awe.
“Huh,” she echoed. That was, honestly, all she could manage. Because, here was an utterly handsome looking guy who had just kissed her like there was no tomorrow and she had felt absolutely nothing.
Pearce stared at her for a moment before tipping his head to the side. Tate watched as his lips curved upward into a smile that started out small, growing wider the longer they stood there studying one another in the parking lot.
“That was … decidedly unsatisfying?”
She felt her own smile form. “Deficient.”
His eyes lit up. “Lame.”
“Dissatisfactory.”
“Inadequate.” He paused before leaning to press a kiss to her forehead. “On that note, Tate, I am going to head home to brush my teeth and scour my mouth with mouthwash to rid the feeling that I just,” he paused to make a sick face, “mouth-fucked my own sister.”
Tate threw her head back in a laugh. “Oh, Pearce. I do believe I adore you.”
Hooking an arm around her shoulders, he gazed down at her fondly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Likewise, Donnelly. Likewise. In a completely platonic way, of course.”
“Of course.” She grinned. “BFF’s forever?”
“Damn straight.”
And that was the night when what should have been a hot kiss with Pearce Hadley turned into a blossoming friendship instead.
Dear Miller,
I don’t know why I’m even still writing this since the logical part of me knows it’ll get returned. Maybe I’m an absolute idiot but a part of me still believes that, deep down, you’ll change your mind. That you still love me and still want to be with me.
Yeah. Just writing that made me feel über pathetic. I think it’s because things are so … just not the same. God, that’s an understatement. I wish you were here with me. Even not being my boyfriend anymore, just being a friend would be enough right now with everything that’s going on. My heart hurts so much. It seems like everything just blew up in my face at once, without any warning.
I still think about you. Often. I know I need to move on. Cassie tells me all the time, which is why I’m applying to a ton of schools down South. I think she’s right and I need to make a clean start somewhere else. Cassie’s soccer scholarship is keeping her here, but like my mom once told me, she’s the kind of friend you just know will be around when you’re old and gray. Heck, Cassie’s already set aside money to fly down to wherever I end up for a visit.
I wish I could talk to you. Tell you everything that’s happened. God, Miller. Part of me wants to hate you, but there’s another part of me that would give anything to just hear your voice.
I’ve given myself until next November—that marks a full year si
nce … well, since everything turned to shit—before I stop writing these letters to you because the grief counselor suggested it might help. And, yeah, I realize how pitiful that made me sound. If anyone would’ve told me I’d be seeing a grief counselor, I would’ve laughed my ass off. Hell, if anyone had told me that my entire world would be rocked, knocked off its axis—in the worst way possible—I would’ve thought they were crazy.
It’s kind of a double-edged sword to still admit this, but you’re still it for me, Miller.
Tate
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK was he doing?
Oh, nothing much. Just driving around Fernandina Beach late at night, doing a pass by Tate’s place, every so often, to see if she were home yet.
And every single pass of her house that her car wasn’t yet there, the tightness in his chest increased. Because he knew what was keeping her. Or, more specifically, whom. Pearce Fucking Hadley. The former PJ and bonafide badass with a titanium leg. The guy who had been by Tate’s side the entire evening.
The guy had gotten way too fucking close to her as Miller had pulled out of the parking lot. A sick part of him had wanted to linger, to wait and see what would happen when the guy went in for the kiss. When, not if. Because Miller could see the writing on the wall. And it screamed “Pearce is going to kiss Tate tonight.”
Fuuuuck. He couldn’t take this shit. He should just call it a night and stop torturing himself over what might be happening in that parking lot between the two of them. Was he kissing her, fingers threading through her silky blonde hair? Did he back her up, push her against her car, needing to feel her body against his own? Was she sliding her own hands over him?
Hitting the steering wheel in frustration, Miller decided on making one final pass before going home. Turning the Jeep onto her street, he couldn’t deny the whoosh of breath that was released as he saw the familiar vehicle parked beneath the stilts of her tiny beach house. Pulling into her driveway, he parked, turning off the ignition.
Before he gave further thought to his actions, he quickly exited the Jeep. Pressing his key fob to lock the vehicle, he ambled up the stairs to her door. Giving two swift knocks, he waited. And waited. And waited some more. He knocked more firmly, louder, again. Still nothing.
What the hell? Was she okay? Had she brought Pearce back to her place? Maybe she had driven them back here together?
Running his hands over his hair, he muttered to himself, “You’re fucking pathetic, Vaughn.”
On his last word, the door opened. That was the moment Miller felt as though he’d been kicked in the solar plexus, unable to find his breath. Because standing before him was Tate Donnelly, hair wet, face scrubbed clean, dressed in a pair of loose shorts and a tank top. A tank top which was displaying nipples that were pressing against it, reacting to the night breeze.
“Did I catch you talking to yourself, Vaughn?” Eyebrow raised, she looked at him curiously.
Wrenching his eyes away from the tantalizing view of her breasts, he saw her brows furrow suddenly.
“Wait a minute. What are you doing here so late?” A look of concern crossed her face. “Is everyone okay?”
Inhaling a calming breath, he answered, “Everyone is fine. I just …” his brain scrambled to come up with an answer, “I just wanted to check and make sure you’d made it home all right.”
Hey, that actually sounded pretty legit. Not bad, Vaughn.
“Really?” Tate seemed doubtful. Uh, yeah. He probably should’ve upped his excuse game since this woman standing before him had once known him inside and out.
“Can I come in?”
She stared at him for a moment before glancing away with a sigh. “It’s late, Miller.”
He regarded her suspiciously. “Do you have someone here?”
Her head drew back, the crease between her brows becoming pronounced and his thumb itched to smooth it out. “How is that any business of yours?”
Miller couldn’t identify what made him do it, but the next instant, he was crowding Tate, his body pressing against hers as he walked them inside her home, kicking the door shut behind him.
“Because I need to know.” His hands gripped her hips, fingers flexing at the feel of her, and he pressed his body to hers, her back against the wall. “I need to know if Pearce kissed you.” Miller’s lips found the side of her neck, pressing a light kiss against it before the tip of his tongue darted out to taste her. The sound of her gasp made his cock twitch.
“Yes.” Her breathless answer made his spine stiffen.
That fucker had kissed her?
“Did you like it, Tate?” He murmured against her earlobe, running his teeth over it before gently sucking on it. Hearing her elicit the tiniest moan encouraged him. One hand slid up from her hip, grazing her side to cup one breast, thumb brushing over her already hardened nipple.
“Did you like it, Tate?” he repeated. “Did you get turned on?” Pressing his hardness against her, he felt her body instinctively arch against him. His other hand grazed across the center of her shorts, between her thighs, feeling her heat and a touch of dampness.
“Did you get wet like this? For him?” Pressing a trail of kisses along the column of her throat, he slid a long finger beneath the hem of the leg of her shorts. Grazing over her clit in the slightest caress, he slid a finger deep inside of her.
Holy shit, she’s so wet. And so tight around his finger. He could only imagine how she would feel if he were to slide—
“Stop.” Tate’s palms pressed against his chest, pushing at him. “We can’t.”
A part of him swelled with pride at the breathless quality of her voice, arousal still lingering. Leaning away from her after sliding his finger from inside of her, he took in the sight of her chest which was slightly heaving, nipples pressing against the fabric of her top. Her eyes were slowly losing the glazed look of lust.
“We can’t do this, Miller.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “We just did. And it seemed to happen easily.”
Tate looked away briefly before returning to meet his gaze. Her lips—lips he was currently kicking himself in the ass for not kissing—rolled in as she chose her words.
Letting out a sigh, her eyes implored him. “It can’t happen between us ever again.” Her face took on a touch of anguish when she continued. “We’re different people now. And we have too much of a … past.” The last word came out in barely a whisper before she swallowed thickly.
Anger ran through him at her words. “Is this because of Pearce?” he bit out.
Her eyes grew cold. “That’s none of your business,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m not your business anymore.”
Abruptly turning away from her, he walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. Staring blankly down at the handle, he inhaled a deep, fortifying breath in an attempt to calm himself, to prevent himself from saying something he would later regret.
“You’re right, Tate. It’s not my business, you’re not my business anymore.” The words felt like they were sticking in his throat. He blamed it on the intense emotions which were free-flowing around them. Twisting the doorknob, he had just stepped over the threshold when he heard Tate softly call out.
“Hey, Miles?”
Without turning around, he paused in the open doorway, lips curving into a mirthless smile. Because he knew what she was trying to do, that she was attempting to put distance between them after what had just happened. “Yes?”
There was a long pause before she finally answered, “Be careful driving home.”
His smile was tinged with sadness and he couldn’t resist giving the same response he had always given to her back in the day.
“Careful’s my middle name.” With those final words, he closed the door behind him, jogging down the stairs to his Jeep.
As Miller drove down South Fletcher Avenue heading toward his own place, he had a sudden realization which made the corners of his lips curve upward into a
half smile. Because even after all that had transpired in her entryway, with her resorting to purposely calling him by the wrong name, Tate had still told him to be careful on his way home. And that could only mean one thing.
Tate Donnelly still cared about him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“DO YOU THINK YOU GUYS will take things to the next level?”
Raine’s question came as the three women were sitting out on the lower outdoor deck of Raine and Mac’s house. Though the three of them tried to set aside ‘girl time’, it had become more challenging now that Laney and Raine were in serious relationships. At the moment, they were enjoying their take-out sushi and girl talk.
Laney’s jaw slackened, eyes wide with alarm. “What do you mean? Next step?”
Tate and Raine exchanged a look before Tate deadpanned, “Next step, as in adopting five orphans from a Third World country, of course. Duh.”
Raine gave her a halfhearted shove, failing at withholding laughter. “Tate, stop!” Turning to face Laney, she gave her a look. “Next step, as in rings, perhaps?”
Laney worried her lower lip. “I don’t really … We haven’t even …”
Tate tried to mask her smile, taking a drink of her sweet tea.
“You and Zach have been living together for about a year now, right?” Raine asked before softening her tone. “Have you given any thought to marriage?”
Laney’s lips parted and she faltered in an attempt at formulating her answer. Finally, she shrugged, making a face. “I’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
She and Raine stared at their friend in shock.
“What? Laney! Are you completely nuts?” Tate shook her head in disbelief. “That man is head over heels crazy for you. In fact, I’d guaran-damn-tee you he’d marry you right this instant if you told him you’d be down for it.”
