Paige in Progress (Reluctant Hearts #3)

by Brighton Walsh

  The laughter dies in my throat, and I wish I’d known that when he dropped her off. Although it’s probably better I didn’t. The last thing I need right now is to spend the night in jail for assault and battery.

  “Oh, you can wipe the macho, scorned man look off your face. I can take care of myself.” She lifts the beer to her lips, takes a healthy swallow, then sighs as she rests the bottle on one bare knee. “Just wish I didn’t have to suffer through that and pay for it in the end. Literally.”

  “That guy’s an ass.”

  “No argument from me.” She glances at me. “So what are you doing out here?”

  I shrug. “Couldn’t stand being inside anymore. Got tired of looking at spreadsheets and needed a break.”

  “Spreadsheets? Oh, for your parents’ business? How’s that going?”

  I’m surprised she remembers why I’m here, with how much she’s put into the act of pretending she doesn’t care. “It could be going better. Though it could be going a lot worse, too, so I should count my blessings and shut the hell up.”

  “I think I’ve been to their shop before. Pretty sure we got my new skis there in high school.”

  I glance over at her with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t know you ski.”

  While she doesn’t laugh this time, she offers me a smirk, her lips curved up on one side and pure amusement in her eyes. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she says, returning my words from earlier. “And, yeah, I do. Growing up with two brothers and a military dad meant I didn’t get handled with princess gloves. I can run with the boys any day of the week.”

  My assessment earlier of her actually doing shit and not spending her time just looking pretty was spot on. And if the reaction in my jeans is anything to go by, I really, really like it.

  She tips her head back, swallowing the rest of her beer, then turns to me. “Thanks for this. And for the chat.” She pauses and looks at me, then glances down at her lap as she fingers the hem of her dress. “The evening started off pretty shitty, but this made it suck less.”

  “Careful, Paige, that sounded suspiciously like you actually enjoyed your time with me.”

  Bumping her shoulder into mine, she says, “Don’t get used to it.” She stretches out her legs, then stands, and I should be a gentleman and not watch the way the hem of her skirt rides up even more before she can tug it down. I should be, but I’m not. “I’m going to head in, I think. You coming?”

  Pulling myself away from the silky skin of her legs, I shake my head. “Nah. Every inch of my shoebox apartment is covered with shit for the shop. I can’t look at it anymore tonight. I’m going to stay out here for a while.”

  Paige hesitates, shifting from foot to foot, and I’m trying to get a read on her, but she makes it damn hard. She’s got a poker face nearly as good as mine. Finally, she says, “You can hang out at my place, if you want. I was just going to watch a hilariously awful horror movie, but I do have a couch that’s not covered in paperwork.”

  She looks like a model, talks like a sailor, skis and who knows what else, and watches horror movies? Who is this girl?

  I must hesitate for too long, because she quirks an eyebrow. “You know, ‘watching a hilariously awful horror movie’ isn’t a euphemism for anything.”

  “Damn.”

  That pulls another laugh from her, and she turns her back to me and opens the door to the building. “Sorry, buddy. Just you, me, some really ratty clothes, and a bunch of blood and guts between us.” She leans against the open door. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  I stand from the stoop, bottle clutched in one hand, and grab the door above her head. Leaning toward her until I can feel her breath on my lips, I glance between her eyes and her mouth, restraining myself from swooping in and capturing those lips in a kiss. A kiss I’ve thought about getting every day since December. A kiss she’s withheld from me, for whatever reason. From the way her breath hitches, I don’t think I’m too far off the mark thinking she feels the same. This should be fun. “I’m in.”

  TEN

  paige

  Why is it that whenever I’m around Adam, every single one of my brain cells runs for the fucking hills? It’s like all common sense just totally bails on me. That’s the only logical explanation, really. Because if I did have an ounce of sense left, I wouldn’t have invited him into my apartment for the night. I also wouldn’t have changed out of my dress and heels and into my pajamas, tossing my bra on the floor while I was at it, letting the girls just hang free. And I definitely wouldn’t be sitting on the couch with him, so close his knee brushes my thigh more often than should be legal. It doesn’t even matter that I have on yoga pants and that he’s not actually touching my skin, because I already know. I know exactly what it feels like when his fingers brush against me, like tiny sparks are lit up under my skin.

  Trying to get my mind off what his hands feel like all over me, I grab the remote and navigate to Netflix, pulling up my queue. “Okay,” I try to say, but it comes out like a porn star moan, so I clear my throat and try again, hoping he didn’t notice. “On the docket for tonight in the hilariously awful horror movie genre, we have Big Ass Spider, Sharknado, Evil Bong, or Zombeavers. Preference?”

  Adam studies each of their summaries as I pull them up, like he’s trying to pick an Oscar contender instead of the movie we’re going to spend the next ninety minutes heckling. His brow is furrowed, his eyes scanning the details of each as he reaches up and scratches his jaw. The sound of his short nails scraping against his stubble echoes through the room, and I swear I feel those echoes in my body.

  When he crosses his arms against his chest, the tattered sleeves of the deliciously thin T-shirt he’s wearing wrapped tightly around his biceps, I’ve had just about enough of his unintentional sexiness. Really, there’s only so much a girl can take. “All right, buddy. You’re thinking way too hard on this. Just pick a goddamn movie.”

  He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “It’s a serious decision that can’t be rushed.”

  I scoff and roll my eyes, tucking one leg under the other as I turn toward him. “You must be new to the hate-watch. You just have to go with your gut. First instincts, and all that. The only logical way to go is Zombeavers. I mean, the title alone guarantees a plethora of laughs. And that graphic? She has a beaver coming out of her beaver. Comedy gold.”

  “You do make valid points.” He nods. “All right, Zombeavers it is.”

  “Glad you finally came to your senses.” I turn on the movie and settle in to watch, very aware of just how close Adam is. Even worse, I’m remembering what happened the last time he was in my apartment… When he had me bent over the arm of the couch. How it wasn’t impersonal like it sometimes can be in that position—like it usually is. Instead, he curved his body over mine, his chest pressed against my back, his lips at my ear whispering the dirtiest things while his fingers stroked my clit, pulling orgasm number too-many-to-count from my body.

  Jesus, is it hot in here?

  Adam snorts next to me, bringing my attention back to the TV and what’s happening in the movie. I laugh when one of the characters scrolls through pictures on her phone, the images taking up the majority of the TV screen. “You know it’s gonna be good when dick pics show up within the first five minutes.”

  “Definitely. Dick shots are really the only reason I watch horror movies, anyway.” He says it with so much sincerity, I can’t help the laugh that bursts free. Turning in my direction, he joins me, a smile curving his lips. His attention drops to my mouth briefly before he looks into my eyes again, and there is an undeniable heat behind his.

  This just reaffirms how stupid I am. Adam and I are attracted to each other; there’s no denying that. But being attracted to him because of what he can do to my body is one thing.

  Being attracted to him because I genuinely like him is another thing entirely.

  ELEVEN

  adam

  Before coming to Cade’s place today,
I wondered how it would be being around Paige after hanging out just the two of us—even though nothing sexual happened the night of Zombeavers. And while no one else probably notices the changes, I do. Paige is less guarded, more relaxed, bullshitting with me while Cade and Winter are paired up against Jase and Tessa to face off in a game of bean bags in Cade and Winter’s backyard. Paige and I are taking on the winners, and even that is a huge step for her. Before, she’d find any and every excuse in the book not to even be around. And yet here she is.

  “You see that?” She leans closer to me, the neck of her beer bottle clutched in her hand. Her voice is pitched low and serious as hell, but all I can think about is how sweet she smells. “You see how Jase can’t throw if he’s on the right? You have got to get that side to throw from, okay?”

  Pulling myself from her sweet-scent inducing haze, I glance over at her, seeing her brows pulled down, her face set in concentration. While I’ve been wondering if it’s her shampoo or body wash making her smell so fucking good, she’s been plotting world domination via Cornhole. “You know this is just a game, right? And not even a real game. Just one where we throw bags filled with beans toward a hole in a giant sloped ramp thirty feet away.”

  She spins on me, poking me in the chest. “Okay, look, buddy. This may not be a contact sport, but it’s a game. And I do not go into games unless I plan to win. If you’re not man enough to kick their asses with me, tell me now. I’ll get Cade to be my partner.”

  “How do you know Cade and Winter aren’t going to win?”

  She snorts. “Oh, please. The score is 15-1. And Winter…I love that girl, but she can’t throw for shit. Plus, she’s at a disadvantage. We’ve all been playing this for years. I think this is her second time. She doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “You know as well as I do that the score means fuck-all. It can be flipped in no time, especially when they try to get twenty-one.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t miss how you’re not answering about bringing your A-game to this party. Don’t hold me back, Reid.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Auntie Paige! Come swing with me!” Haley yells from her perch on the playset across the yard.

  Paige presses her beer bottle to my chest, leveling me with a serious look. “You’re my eyes and ears now, big boy. Find their weaknesses so we can exploit them. Don’t fuck it up.” She says it with such seriousness, she might as well be talking about a mission in Afghanistan, not a game of bags in the back yard. Then she beams a smile toward Haley and takes off in that direction. “Coming, Haley girl!”

  Jesus, why does her talking to me like that get me hard? And now I’ve got two beers in my hands and can’t even reach down to adjust the statue growing in my cargo shorts.

  I try to focus on the game, watching for weaknesses or patterns from any of them, but all I can concentrate on is the sound of Paige playing with Haley, her laughter settling on my shoulders. If I thought I was fucked before when I only wanted to explore this attraction between us, it has nothing on the need coursing through me now to get to know her.

  “Aw, shit,” Cade groans when Winter’s last toss misses the ramp completely, making Jason and Tess the winners. To Winter, he says, “It’s okay, baby. Next time.”

  “Fucking hell.” Winter kicks the side of the ramp, sending it off-center.

  “Hey, hey, hey, don’t take out your frustration on inanimate objects.” Jase straightens the ramp again, lining it up perfectly.

  “I could kick you instead,” Winter says with a saccharine smile.

  “Not again, baby.” Cade walks toward her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to where I’m standing. “I had to listen to him whine about that bruise on his shin for a week.”

  “I was not whining. I thought she broke something!”

  “I know you did, babe.” Tessa rubs her hand along Jason’s back before standing on her toes to give him a kiss, and the jealousy hits me like a freight train.

  Seeing my best friends happier than they’ve ever been should make me happy. And it does. I’m not that much of a selfish prick, but I can’t deny this overwhelming want consuming me as I witness them together. I’ve always felt the urge to be in relationships. To settle down. Getting married wasn’t ever a maybe someday kind of thing like it was for my best friends. It was a foregone conclusion for me. I’ve entered every relationship I’ve ever been in thinking it might be the one. And when I figured out it wasn’t, it ended.

  So how the hell did I get here, watching my two playboy best friends settle down before me?

  Once we were old enough, I stood by, content in my relationships, as Jase and Cade went through their phases, the two of them going through more girls in a few months than I did…ever. And now? Now they’re both in relationships, and I’m off to the side, coveting every goddamn minute of it.

  “Your turn, man. Don’t let Jase win or we’ll never hear the end of it.” Cade knocks me from my daydreaming with a slap on my shoulder. “Paige! You’re up!”

  Paige gives Haley one final push on the swing before jogging toward us. Her eyes are focused, like a soldier going into combat, but it’s a total contrast to the rest of her. Her face is pure warrior—her jaw set, her eyes determined—but her body? All woman. Her long blond hair blows behind her as she runs, her full lips brushed in some kind of shiny pink stuff are pursed in concentration, and her simple white V-neck tee clings to breasts that bounce with each step she takes. And her shorts that are so fucking short they might as well be panties? They showcase long, solid, muscular legs that I want wrapped around my head again. How is this girl real?

  “You ready, hot shot?” She takes her beer back before guzzling it and passing the empty bottle to Cade. Then she walks toward the game, glancing to make sure Haley’s still occupied all the way at the other side of the yard. To Jason and Tessa, she says, “All right, it’s game on, motherfuckers, and I’m not here to lose. Let’s get this bitch started.”

  And I’m snared just a little bit more.

  * * *

  paige

  How can Adam make tossing a beanbag look so goddamn hot? I don’t understand it, but I certainly can’t deny it. His arms bunch and flex when he tosses the bag across the lawn, and I’d love to be behind him to watch the muscles in his back move along with him. I also wouldn’t mind seeing his tight little ass in those shorts. Again.

  But it’s not just the physical attraction I feel with him—though that’s there in spades. That’s never been in question, but it was never more apparent than when I invited him in to watch a movie. I still have no idea what I was thinking. That I could sit next to him in the dark, feel the heat of his body next to mine, get lulled by the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest, and not want to climb into his lap and ride his cock? It was the longest ninety minutes of my life, and after he left, with nothing more than a strained goodbye, I got good use of B.O.B. Twice.

  Besides the attraction, though, I actually like him. We just…click. We’re more alike than I ever thought. Like right now, he pretends he’s not as into winning this as I am, but the determined concentration on his face proves him wrong, as do his strategic throws. He’s just as competitive as I am; he just doesn’t voice it quite as loudly.

  “Come on, baby, you’ve got this one!” Jase says as Tessa prepares to throw her last bag, the other three littering the ramp along with mine.

  “No, you don’t,” I taunt. “Face it, Tess, you don’t have jack. It’s gonna land in the grass and then you’ll fall behind, thus leading to Adam and me winning.”

  Tess laughs. “Shut it, bitch.” She lines up her throw before pulling her arm back and releasing the bag in her hand. It sinks straight through the hole.

  She fist-pumps and does an air high-five to Jason while I say, “Fuck.”

  “Gonna take more than teasing words from you to make us lose, girl.”

  “How about awesome throwing skills on my end, then? That work?” I ask her as I take my shot, sinking my bag r
ight behind hers. We canceled each other out this whole round, neither of us gaining a point, but I can’t even be bothered by it. Not when Adam turns his blinding smile on me and makes me feel like I’m sixteen all over again. Seriously. What is up with me and this guy?

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he says. And my stomach is absolutely not flipping because of that grin being directed at me. Absolutely not. Those fancy burgers Cade made for us must not be sitting right with me.

  “All right, babe, nice and easy,” Tessa calls to Jase as the boys take their turn to throw.

  I barely resist rolling my eyes. If I have to hear one more term of endearment from any of these sickly sweet couples, I might actually puke. It’s been nearly non-stop all day, and I’m goddamn sick of it.

  “Coming to you, baby,” he says.

  This time I can’t resist rolling my eyes, just thankful nothing regurgitated into my mouth. “Enough with the chit-chat, fuckers. You wanna whisper sweet nothings, go into the house and take care of that shit. Otherwise, throw the damn bag.”

  “If I didn’t know better, Paige, I’d think you were on a drought,” Jason says. “Feeling a little neglected?”

  I try to ignore the way Adam’s shoulders stiffen. I also pretend I don’t feel his gaze burning into me. I know if I look at him right now, I’ll see everything written all over his face. That look that says, I’ll give you whatever you need. Anytime. Just say the word.

  Word. Word word motherfucking word.

  Can’t say that, though, so instead I keep my gaze focused on Jason and offer a sweet smile. “Not any more than Tess. She told me you had a little problem the other night. You know”—I lean toward him and stage whisper—“getting it up.”

  Tessa gasps beside me. “Oh my God, I did not! Don’t listen to her, babe. We both know it’s not true.”