Unfriended: A Geek and Stud Romance (Love in New Highland Book 1)

by Deana Farrady

  "So you thought, why not settle for Karl?" Asher brought me back to the issue at hand—his loony hypothesis. "Maybe he'll change. Maybe Karl will be the perfect husband despite all the evidence to the contrary. Then I go and break up with her. Come on, you said it, Sloane, we were the perfect couple, Aura and me. Obviously we were some kind of inspiration for you. Now my relationship is dead you finally see what a mistake you're making. If Aura and I had no chance as a couple, then you and Karl are dead in the water. Admit it, Char. You wimped out. And you regret it now."

  "Look, you're in my space. Could you please back up?'

  He didn't move. It was like I hadn't spoken.

  I shoved at him. He caught my right hand and held it.

  Oh, shit, now he was gripping my wrist. And kneeling between my legs and surrounding me….Lying there feeling his closeness, my body secretly burst into flames.

  Forget my nipples, my pussy was involved now.

  I hated when I responded to him like this. I am a very weak person.

  "Stop intimidating me," I ordered, bringing in my lecturer voice. I consider it one of my superpowers, to be used outside of the classroom only in emergencies.

  "You are not intimidated."

  He sounded so sure. But how wrong he was. I was intimidated. I wasn't afraid of him. It was my own reactions I feared.

  But I knew what he meant.

  "I am, too," I lied, and scrambled to get my feet under me. That only made the situation more crowded, trapping my knees against my own chest.

  So then I used the ultimate weapon—my megawatt Big Sister look. "You're being super-pushy, Asher. I—would—like—to get up now."

  "If you want to get up, why don't you just push me away?"

  "What? I seriously just did."

  "That was a baby pat, not a real push. You're fully capable of tackling me if you want to."

  My mouth was hanging open. Why was he arguing with me? He was supposed to just do what I said, as part of the UFC (Universal Friend Code) as it pertained to friends of unequal strength.

  "Well, I, uh, do want to get up." But my words were absent-minded. I wasn't protesting anymore, I was thinking. Something new was going on with Asher, and I needed to understand it.

  "If you want my opinion, I'd say you definitely don't want to get up, Char." His voice had taken on a suggestive tone I'd never heard from him before, and I saw his nostrils flare.

  I automatically sniffed. And then I smelled it.

  Myself.

  Oh. Lord.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  Mortified, I realized I could smell my own wetness. My legs were splayed and he was right there, and, oh crap, he'd caught me basically displaying in his arms with a sexual response.

  Some guys wouldn't have a clue. Not Asher. Stud that he was, of course he'd notice with it staring him in the face, or the nose if you will.

  CRAAAAAP.

  So humiliating. Sure, it's only the primal biological reaction of a fertile female to a potent male. Totally natural. But WRONG in this particular case.

  I'm a closet cougar.

  Not to mention how awful it feels—the pinching hurt, the emptiness, the frustration—so familiar, so aggravating, so devilishly distracting.

  Lust.

  Normally I have a decent sex drive, nothing major. Around this man, though, my body goes haywire.

  It's a real trial, the worst thing about my otherwise fantastic friendship with Asher. I hate it even more than I hate my unreasonable possessiveness.

  He's cost me hundreds of dollars in adult toys.

  I'd hoped he'd never know.

  But now it had finally happened. Asher, the one man—no, the boy, he's a boy relative to you—that I should never want, had noticed I was a perv who got wet around him.

  Mel's little brother. Still in college.

  Cringification.

  Should I apologize for being inappropriate?

  I couldn't meet his gaze anymore. I turned my face away, trying to distract myself. Was that a spot on the wall? Maybe a spider or just a smudge from the time I accidentally kicked the wall in a dance move—

  His fingers settled on my jaw, turned my head like he'd done before. And like before, I didn't know what to do.

  Without closing my eyes, I couldn't avoid his gaze. And I couldn't close my eyes, not with the way he was looking at me. What was he searching my face like that for, anyway?

  He shook his head slowly, like he was saying no to something.

  Then his finger stroked along my cheek.

  Well fuck. An arrow of electricity darted down my body, arching my spine.

  And there went my nipples again.

  "Whoa!" I gasped. "What are you doing? Dude!"

  I saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. "Just wondering about your mouth."

  "My mouth?" That husky note in his voice—I'd heard him use it with girls he was into. He never used it with me. What in the name of Marilyn Vos Savant was going on?

  "Open your mouth for me, Charis Sloane."

  Something shameful exploded in me. My brain said, there-must-be-a-mistake-and-you-didn't-hear-him-right. Maybe he actually said "All in the house with me." Mouth and house were really quite similar sounding words…

  "Mouth. Open." No mistaking that.

  And his voice…he didn't sound young at all. That deep, rumbling voice stroked me all over.

  "Mouth," I said stupidly, stalling for time.

  "Yeah. Tilt your head back and open—your—mouth. I want to check something out real quick."

  Okay, this was getting weird. Now I was curious. I lifted my chin and pretended I was at the dentist. "Like thish?"

  "Yeah. Thanks."

  I closed my mouth along with my eyes, and when I opened my eyes again, he was even closer, if possible. "What was that about?"

  His nose almost touched mine. "I wanted to see the inside of your mouth," he whispered.

  "Why?"

  His thumb drifted from my chin to trace my lips.

  Shock reverberated through me, paralyzing me. Whatever this was—practical joke, payback of some kind—I couldn't seem to stop it. I couldn't move at all. My heart was doing its damnedest to break out of my ribcage.

  "I wanted to know what it was about your mouth that makes me…"

  He shifted closer. His hand was curling around the back of my head, pressing me forward.

  Oh, fuck, no. He didn't just…

  "…want to do this."

  Now his finger was probing at my lips, tracing the moist inside, and my tongue came out and tasted him.

  I couldn't help it. I had to. Besides, I knew, in a burst of relief, that there was no harm. None! For it had suddenly occurred to me what was actually happening. Blessed be! Hallelujah!

  This was obviously an honest-to-God hallucination.

  I was in bed right now, having a lucid dream.

  Almost certainly.

  Possibly someone had slipped me a pill in my water bottle. A student, worried about a late paper—sometimes those undergrads really went too far. Why hadn't they talked to me? I had generous office hours.

  Right, so clearly I'd stumbled home and the whole Thai food thing hadn't really happened. None of this was happening…

  "And this," said a deep voice.

  Then the hallucination who seemed to be Asher put his mouth directly on mine.

  Warm. Soft. Assertive.

  Male lips moving expertly, sending tingles along the nerve endings of my mouth.

  Tiny, teasing nips.

  Wonderful, luxuriant sucks.

  Holy crap.

  This was starting to be real.

  He lifted his head and sucked in his breath. "Char. Fuck. Kiss me back."

  It was Asher. I wasn't imagining anything.

  I shook my head, aware of breathing hard and feeling dizzy. "No. What are you doing? You're acting crazy!" I shoved him away, hard enough to budge him this time. And immediately he released me.

  I scrambled to my feet,
twisting the fabric of my sweater in my fists. I think I was kind of insane right then.

  He seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He ran a hand through his hair. "What's wrong with you?"

  I pointed. "You. That. What was that that just happened?"

  His chest rose with his breaths, like he was breathing as hard as I was.

  "Technically, it's the friction encountered when epidermis meets epidermis, with a bit of mucosal tissue thrown in. If you want the layspeak, Sloane, I was kissing you with tongue."

  I scrounged up all my reserves to glare at him. "Not cool."

  "What's not cool?"

  I knew that innocent look and didn't trust it a bit.

  "That. Whole kissing me. Thing." I backed up as if he were coming after me, when all he was doing was staring at my chest, the lord knows why. Had I spilled espresso on it?

  "This is some kind of backlash, isn't it?" I blabbered. "You're not over Aura yet. What do they call it in the lexicon of relationships—the rebound. You're on the rebound. Or maybe it's the next stage of grief. I think there are five or seven stages total. Obviously you're in one of them and it's making you act loony. Unless—high! You're high! You decided this one time you'd…no? Or, or, wait, I got it, it's that you're dealing with understandably hostile feelings because I went and got engaged to your brother."

  The words were pretty much spilling out with no way to stop them.

  "Hostile? You think what just happened was hostility?" He started to laugh.

  "It's not funny, Asher."

  He sobered. "No, it's not at all funny that you've managed to get yourself engaged to a fucking commitment-phobe. At least now you'll be calling it off."

  "Huh? No, I'm not calling it off." I was furious. "The engagement is on."

  "After what just happened?"

  "You mean the way you kissed me? That has nothing to do with anything." Then realization dawned. "Oh, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Was that what that whole thing was all about? Was that why—you don't want me marrying Karl and so you think if you give me a big ol' smooch I'm going to just call it off!"

  "Oh for—yeah, I don't want you throwing your life away like that. But that has nothing to do with what just happened. I took your mouth, Char, because you wanted it. You were leaning into me and you were so ready for it you were practically hyperventilating."

  My jaw dropped and I just stood there. Really, what could you even say to such over-the-top arrogance?

  Then:

  "Go. Get out. Get out!" I was screaming. Me, cheerful lecturer, the epitome of reason, a bastion of control…what can I say, he'd pushed my red button. I grabbed a spring roll off the counter and hurled it at him. "And take your stupid pity kisses with you!"

  CHAPTER 12

  Two Years Ago—The Tease

  Asher: Now it's my turn to ask you a profound question. Do dust mites think of vacuum cleaners as black holes? And if so, do they wonder what's beyond the event horizon? Close your jaw, Sloane. Turnabout's fair play. You get to ask dumb questions, so do I.

  Charis: All right, fair enough., Hm, so, event horizon. Is an event horizon like when you're at a fundraiser and the canapes are disgusting and the night goes on forever?

  Asher: Yeah, Sloane. That's what it is.

  Charis: I thought so. Eek! What was that f—okay, okay, uncle, UNCLE! I was messing with you cause you're always messing with me. I know an event horizon is the edge of a black hole and a black hole has all the crap. ALL THE CRAP, YO!

  Asher: Nobody messes with me and gets away with it. Is that the last time? Is it?

  Charis: It's the last time, except, okay, I lie, I lie, I'm still gonna mess with you. I'm never gonna stop messing with you. Stop, stop, cease, I'm not ticklish, I'm not, you're wasting your time, bro.

  Asher: Bro? Bro? We blood now?

  Charis: Not bro!

  Asher: That's better.

  Asher

  I MIGHT HAVE FUCKED UP.

  I might have sort of fucked my relationship with Charis all to hell.

  By saying she was desperate to be kissed, I might have done that.

  On the other hand, what could I have said?

  I wanted to fuck your beautiful mouth with my tongue, Char, so I did. And my cock got so hard that when you withdrew it felt like a gut punch.

  Yeah, that would fly.

  But there it was. I could still taste her, and it had been over twelve hours.

  Those silly books my sister Ryanna is always reading where guys take one look at a girl with a magic pussy and fall in love? Raises hand. That's me.

  A couple of days ago I was kinda, sorta, half-assedly trying to get along with my girlfriend. Then suddenly that's over and now I have a hard-on that won't quit for my bestie.

  I'd become a fictional character.

  It was ego-crushing.

  Getting the text from Aura from out of the blue didn't help matters.

  I'm so upset about our fight. Call me. We need to work this out or I'm afraid we'll be through for real.

  I stared at the letters, trying to get them to make sense. What did she mean, afraid?

  We were through. The words had been said. The deal had been shaken on. Good-bye, have a nice life.

  Maybe I hadn't been sufficiently clear. I dialed her, annoyed.

  "Hi, you." Her voice sounded hoarse, shaky.

  I felt the glimmerings of guilt, a Pavlovian response to her distress signals. Over the years, I'd let myself be conditioned well. "Aura, there's nothing to talk about. We're done."

  "Oh, God." She burst into sobs. "I was so afraid of that. I was so afraid you meant it, Ash. And now you're saying you did. Oh God, oh please, I can't believe it. Oh, God. I can't handle this."

  The good news? Her outbursts used to have me riding to the rescue. Now I seemed to have broken the chain somehow. All sense of guilt evaporated. I found myself checking the time on my phone. My last exam of the quarter was in a few hours. Essential to my future or not, I felt obligated to study for it.

  "Trust me, you'll be fine."

  "Asher, please, there are things you don't know. Things deep in my past I was afraid to share with you. I think it's time. We need to work them out—together. I know we can get past this."

  Yeah, a day fucking late and a dollar short. Cruel to be kind it would have to be.

  "Aura, we both know there's only one thing that can help you. You need to see a counselor and work out your problems so you can get past this shit."

  "I know, I know. If I promise to get therapy, for real this time, will you listen to me? Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

  It dawned on me that she fully expected me to say yes. "Let me be clear. I hope you get the help you need. But you and me, we're not happening. There's no redeeming this. The probability of our getting back together is zero."

  "I can hear anger in your voice. I've hurt you. I didn't know I'd hurt you so much. You're always so strong, I forget how tender you are inside, Ash."

  Now she cared? Sure she did. "I'm over it," I said crisply. "Take care of yourself."

  I felt her silent fury. If she could have, I have no doubt she'd have slammed the phone down then.

  As it was, she disconnected with controlled calm.

  I hoped it meant she'd finally accepted reality.

  Yet somehow my confidence in that outcome was nonexistent.

  KARL WORKED AT A COFFEE shop in the Village. It had been years since I'd visited him at one of his jobs. He'd held a shit ton of them in his life, some at home in Detroit or New Highland, others on the road. One and all, they were short-lived, easy-come, easy go stints.

  I halted at seeing my oldest brother leaning on the counter in his coffee clothes smiling at coffee customers, like he lived, ate and breathed coffee, when I knew he hated the stuff. But that was Karl. He didn't care what he did to earn a living.

  What didn't surprise me was the line of customers being 90% female. That's also Karl. Actually, it's all of us—all three Norrell boys
and even Dad. Hell, probably Grandpa too. Women gravitate toward us. But only Karl is disinterested in relationships. I've seen women get pissed off about it, but that doesn't stop them from fucking him anyway.

  I caught his attention. His face brightened into a smile. I didn't take that in any particular way; Karl is always smiling. Always sociable, easygoing, kind of like me…except where I'm driven and motivated, Karl is laid back and apathetic. We're polar opposites, but I've always thought he was a good guy at heart.

  Until recent events, that is.

  He bent and whispered something into a barista's ear. She beamed up at him and patted his arm in a you-go-ahead gesture.

  "How goes it?" he called, untying his apron.

  I controlled my volume by speaking between my teeth. "Where do you fucking get off using Sloane?"

  He stilled, then threw back his head and laughed. "She told you. I wondered when she'd get around to it. Ain't it grand, kid? Me and your best friend. Who'da thunk it?"

  I grabbed his arm and yanked him out the door. "I thought you didn't care about Alice's stuff."

  "I don't."

  "Then would you mind telling me what's going on?"

  "Touchy, aren't we?" He snapped his fingers. "I got it. Exam week. The stress is getting to you. But don't worry, bro, if things fall through in that direction, you can always join me here making lattes."

  I didn't let him sidetrack me. "I'm done with exams. They went fine. Why are you being an asshole?"

  "Brr, it's cold out here. Asshole, huh? How exactly am I doing that again?"

  "By asking Charis to marry you. You're just using her to get your inheritance."

  "Well, yeah. I wonder if I should mention the wedding and the whole marriage thing to the family one of these days. What do you think? Would they be interested?"

  I'm not easily riled, but right then I was ready to try to bash him. "Try" being the key word here, since in the normal way of things Karl could totally annihilate me and Doug in any kind of fight. Our muscle mass might be similar, but real-world experience defeats recreational tussles in their training value.