by J. M. Paul
The smirk at my messy bun, yoga pants, and pullover sweatshirt with a Bah Humbug graphic needs to be immediately smacked off his face. Before I can make a move, both he and Trey enter Cami’s apartment without invitation.
“Step right in.” I swish my arm as sarcasm drips off every word.
“Come on, Lunar.” Trey pushes his fingers against my cheeks, trying to lift them. “Turn that frown upside down. We’re here to help your sorry asses.” Trey tosses me a goofy smile that I can’t help but return.
I step away from him and head toward the box I was packing.
“There’s nothing sorry about my ass. It’s as fine as wine.” I rub it in a lewd fashion and give it a playful smack before I bend over to grab more newspaper.
My phone pings, and I pull it out.
Cami: Send help! This box is trying to kill me!
I shake my head at her laziness. “Cami needs assistance in the bedroom. Apparently, she’s dying.”
“Got it.” Trey saunters down the short hallway.
Connor licks his lips and scratches his cheek. “So, your phone does work.” He sheds his leather jacket and tosses it on the counter.
“Yep.”
“Then, you’ve been ignoring me?” Connor lifts the box I finished packing onto the counter, so I can write Kitchen on all sides.
“I’ve been busy, if you haven’t noticed.” I cap the marker and open the fridge to inspect the contents.
“Quit feeding me bullshit,” Connor whispers in my ear.
I gasp at his unexpected nearness. His stealth moves put me on edge. Does he study ninja in his spare time?
My arm springs out, and I grab the first item my hand touches. Turning quickly, I hold it out toward Connor.
“Would you rather I feed you a”—I look at the item in my hand, and my eyes go wide—“vibrator?” The last word comes out choked. “Oh my God.” I fling the horrifying device back in the fridge and slam the door closed. “Oh my God.” I cover my face with my hands, shivering dramatically.
Connor’s deep chuckle pulls me from my dismay, and I peek at him through my fingers. His eyes are twinkling back at me.
My lips vibrate when I huff out a breath. I fist my hands and perch them on my hips.
“Cami!” I yell. When she doesn’t answer immediately, I screech her name again.
“What?” She wheezes when she pops out into the small space.
“Why the hell is your … vibrator in the fridge?” I point at the appliance.
“Oh, you found it.” A relieved expression washes over her face. She retrieves it and holds the offending device against her chest. “Hi, EB. Mama’s sorry she misplaced you.”
“EB?” Trey questions with rapt attention.
Ew.
“Electronic Boyfriend.” She waggles her eyebrows.
Double ew.
“Why was it in the fridge?” Connor shoots her an amused expression.
“I was washing it when someone knocked on the door.” She shrugs. “I couldn’t answer it with this in my hand. I mean, hello? People are judgy.”
“And you don’t think we’re judging you?” I quizzically arch my brow.
“I don’t care if you judge me. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” She stands completely confident while discussing her sexuality. It’s something I admire about her.
“Okay.” I push her toward the bedroom. “Go pack that in your naughty box.”
Trey sputters, “Well, I didn’t know this was going to be a show-and-demonstrate. Sign me up!”
My brows pinch together at their amused faces.
Connor coughs out a laugh.
“What?” My head swivels between the three of them.
“Pack it in my naughty box. Think about it, Noles.” Cami pats me on the cheek and then wanders back into her room.
“Get your minds out of the gutter, pervs.” I start emptying the fridge. “And get back to work.”
I’m chucking items into the garbage and grumbling to myself about the stupid vibrator incident when Connor crosses his arms on top of the open fridge door.
“Need help?” He watches me.
“No. I’m perfectly capable of discarding food all on my own.”
“Why are you always so rude to me?” He straightens and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Because you annoy me.” I shut the door and open the freezer. Wafts of frozen air dance around me.
“How do I annoy you?”
“You breathe air.” I toss the solitary item—a half-empty carton of freezer-burned ice cream—in the trash.
Connor pulls the overflowing bag out of the bin and sets it next to the door to go out. I turn in circles, searching for something else to do.
I feel the warmth of Connor’s body behind me, and I freeze.
“Noel”—he presses closer—“turn around.”
I’m trapped between him and the counter, and I’m unsure of what to do. My eyes fly to the hallway. Part of me hopes to see Cami and Trey coming, and part of me hopes they stay in that room forever.
“Noel,” Connor says again.
My heart pounds against my ribs. I take a steadying breath and force my features to go slack.
When I pivot to face him, his jade eyes are burning. I swallow deeply, and his gaze momentarily drops to my lips before dragging back up to mine.
“I don’t think I annoy you.” He tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear.
Goose bumps pepper my arms, and I’m thankful I’m in a long-sleeved sweatshirt, so he can’t witness my reaction to him.
“In fact”—he trails the tip of his finger down my cheek—“I think I do quite the opposite.”
Connor’s focus falls to my lips again. I lick them in response, and I see his irises flare. He rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, and I have to fight back a shiver.
“You know what I think, Journal Girl?” He bends down, so his mouth brushes against the shell of my ear when he murmurs, “I think you’re just as attracted to me as I am to you.”
When he straightens, his gaze is so intense, I think it might set me on fire, and for the life of me, I can’t remember why this is wrong. Having Connor this close, this open and sensual, is everything my mind and body want.
“You’re wrong.” The weak words echo around the kitchen, and I’m not sure who spoke them.
“Is that so?” He steps closer, so there’s only a whisper of space between us.
I want so badly to press all of my soft parts to his firm parts, but something keeps picking at the back of my brain.
This can’t happen.
“Let me clue you in on a secret.” Connor’s hand grasps my waist, and a fire ignites in my panties. “Your beautiful mouth spouts one thing while your body discloses something completely different.”
Where is my smart mouth when I need it?
“We bicker as if it’s foreplay.” Connor’s other hand lifts to my neck and then trails lower. “Take this sweatshirt for example.” He runs a finger along my Bah Humbug graphic, which also allows his touch to graze the swell of my breasts.
If the counter wasn’t biting into my lower back, holding me up, I would melt onto the floor like the pathetic excuse of an independent woman that I was.
“I believe you wore this to drive me crazy.” He lets his hand fall to the other side of my waist and hoists me closer to him. It causes our hips to bump, and something deep inside me clenches.
“If that was your intention, it’s working.” Biting his lip, he stares intently into my eyes, and I can’t find my usual spitefulness to look away. “I love Christmas, so you wore this to frustrate me, which brings me back to what I was saying.” He crouches, so we’re eye-to-eye. “The bickering—our bickering”—he lets the statement hang in the air a beat to build suspense—“it’s foreplay.”
I swallow noisily, unable to find my voice.
“And, fuck all, is it hot,” he growls.
“Trey, don’t drop that box! It has breakable
s in it,” I hear Cami yell before heavy footsteps reverberate down the hallway.
It brings me to my senses, and I push Connor away.
“Hey, man. There’s another heavy box back there. Do me a favor and deal with it and your woman. She’s going a little mad.” Trey jerks his head back toward the bedroom and Cami.
“She’s not my woman,” Connor growls.
Trey walks out the door with a large box.
Connor stands quiet until I glance up.
His hand flits between us as he wears a determined expression. “This isn’t finished.”
With that, he turns and heads toward Cami. Toward the girl he should be investing his time in and efforts on.
That thought makes whatever Connor awoken inside me shrivel and die again.
“Noles, do you want something to drink?” Cami calls from my kitchen. Well, I guess it’s now our kitchen.
“I’m good, thanks.” I toss another moving box against the living room wall.
How can one small person accumulate so much crap?
We just finished unloading Cami’s stuff, and it’s already taking over my condo.
“Need help with that?” Trey saunters into the room with a bottle of beer in his hand.
“Nah. I was moving it off the couch, so I can plant my bum on it.” I flop onto the cushions and moan a little to myself.
Thank goodness Connor and Trey offered to help move Cami into my place today. There was no way the two of us could have hefted everything ourselves. I don’t know what we were thinking. Even with the guys’ help, I’m still exhausted.
“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” Trey sits next to me, a little closer than friends sit.
I swish my hand down myself and my position on the couch. “This.”
“Movie night!” Cami singsongs as she enters from the kitchen with Connor trailing behind.
Connor and I haven’t been alone since our exchange earlier this morning. I need to get my head out of the gutter where he’s concerned and find a way to deal with the feelings he evokes in me. My inappropriate thoughts and actions toward Connor are not fair to Cami—and quite frankly to myself. I deserve more, and so does she.
“Don’t.” I point at Cami as she starts to sit on the other side of the corner couch. “Don’t do it.”
“Do what?” Cami’s eyes bounce between me, Connor, and Trey.
“Don’t sit down yet.” I point toward the hallway and her room. “Go make your bed before you get too tired, or you won’t have a place to sleep tonight. You’re not crashing in my bed.”
Cami gives me her pouty face.
“That’s not gonna work.” I shake my head at her expression. “You’re a monkey when you sleep. The bed becomes your jungle gym until you’re wrapped like a burrito in all the blankets.” I shake my head with more force.
“Fine.” Turning toward Connor, she waggles her brows. “Wanna help me make the bed, hot stuff?”
I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.
“Uh …” Connor smiles awkwardly and slyly glances at me to see if I’m listening.
Of course I’m paying attention. I’m nosy as hell, and I enjoy seeing Connor squirm.
“Uh—” he starts to say again but is cut off by his ringing phone. He gives Cami what probably shouldn’t be a relieved expression and points at the device. “Gotta take this.”
Her shoulders drop.
“This is Connor.” He walks to the front door and exits to take the call outside.
Cami gives me puppy-dog eyes.
“Not gonna happen.” I gesture to my butt. “This thing isn’t moving for the rest of the night.”
“Trey?” Cami’s hopeful attention shifts from me to my couch-mate.
“Sorry, babe. My ass has the same disease as Lunar’s.” Trey stretches back against the cushions and gets comfortable.
“You guys suck.” Cami pouts and stomps down the hallway.
I can’t help but smile at her behavior.
The condo door swings open, and Connor enters with a big smile.
Trey tips his chin at Connor and his cell. “Was that—”
“No,” Connor cuts Trey off before he has a chance to finish his question. The grin on Connor’s face disappears almost immediately.
Interesting.
“That was work. They don’t need me tonight.” Connor heads into the kitchen.
I hear the fridge open and close, followed by a cap being popped off a bottle, and then Connor strolls back in with a beer.
“Hope you don’t mind that I’m making myself at home.” Connor tips the beer toward me as a thank-you and then takes a long swallow.
“I do mind.” I glare at him.
Connor stops mid-step. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re irritating.” I arch a brow.
“That again?” Connor arches a brow right back.
Shit, not the bickering is foreplay conversation again.
I cross my arms over my chest.
“But it’s okay for him to make himself at home?” Connor motions toward the big lump of a man sitting next to me.
“I like him.” I grin at Trey and then regard Connor again. “You’re a different story.”
Trey pats my knee and leaves his hand on my leg.
Connor’s eyes drop to where Trey’s touching me and then lift to mine. His expression is heated—and not in a good way.
Hmm … this could be fun.
“Okay, bitches. My bed’s made.” Cami rounds the corner and stops. “You’re drinking.” She points to the beer in Connor’s hand.
“Got called off work.” Connor slowly drags his attention toward Cami.
Cami plops down on the couch, grabs her beer that she sat on the table earlier, and pats the empty space next to her.
Connor flashes me a victorious expression, and I flip him off.
We decide to watch the latest action film, and before I know it, we’re on a second movie, which is a drama. Ten minutes in, Trey starts quietly snoring next to me. Cami yawns and then rests her head on Connor’s shoulder.
I feel someone’s eyes on me and lift my gaze to meet Connor’s. We don’t say anything or move, just continue to stare at one another.
His attention makes me tingle and sets my heart racing. Never have I reacted so instantly to someone the way I respond to him. I’ve barely known Connor a couple of days, yet the way he makes me feel is as if we’d been friends for years.
Voices on the television drone on, and the light it casts flickers around the dim room as Connor and I stay captured in each other. His dimples dent his cheeks, which in turn triggers my pulse to increase.
Despite the fact that Connor’s my best friend’s whatever and that I’ve known him only a short time, I want him, and I hate myself for it.
Season of Togetherness
A spaceship from no man’s land is trying to take over Earth, and the aliens want to eat my brains.
I squeeze my eyes closed tighter. Maybe the whole if I can’t see them, they can’t see me theory will work, and the invaders will move along and leave me to rot in my extraterrestrial fear.
Another spaceship noise sounds, further rousing me into consciousness. Blinking my eyes open, I realize ET isn’t sending his family to steal me from my living room.
“Answer your goddamn phone, Con,” Trey grumbles beside me. He adjusts his position on the couch and knees me in the side.
“Ugh,” I groan.
There’s fumbling around on the other side of the couch, and I lift my head from the back cushion. My aching neck protests, angry I fell asleep with it crooked at an odd angle. When my eyes focus, I see Cami and Connor in a sitting position, wrapped around each other. They seem to be asleep, except Connor’s hand is trying to dig in his pocket for what I assume is the spaceship that woke me up.
Connor silences his phone without looking at the screen. His head rests back against the pillow, but his eyes are open and pinned on me.
The telev
ision flashes with the home screen of the movie we were watching before falling asleep, and the same cheesy music keeps repeating. The clock on the cable box tells me it’s in the wee hours of the morning.
My attention diverts from Connor’s to take in his body entwined with Cami’s. Something burns in my chest, and my stomach hardens into stone. Cami has been my person since fourth grade, but I find myself feeling aggravated at her presence—or the fact that her body’s wrapped around Connor’s.
I grimace at my selfishness and lift my gaze. Connor’s staring down at Cami almost the same way I was. His face is pinched, and his brows are furrowed.
The spaceship ringtone sounds in the living room again. Trey growls and hurls one of the couch’s throw pillows at Connor. Connor ducks unnecessarily, the missile not even coming close to hitting him.
Connor glances at his phone. His face shifts from tense to loose, and a grin pushes up his cheeks.
“Hey,” Connor whispers as he answers the call. His voice is all raspy, sleepy, and seductive. It does unimaginable damage to my insides, and it’s not even being used on me.
Connor carefully moves Cami away from him without waking her, stands, and heads down the hallway.
“I’m glad you called. I’ve missed you,” he murmurs before a door closes.
What in the ever-loving hell?
I sit in the flickering light, listening to Trey snore beside me and the generic movie music repeat, as I desperately try to hear anything coming down the hallway.
My mind wanders in several directions, trying to decipher whom Connor was excited to speak with. Especially when he had Cami draped across him and he’d put the moves on me earlier this morning—or I guess it was yesterday.
Maybe Connor isn’t who I think he is.
What is his game?
As I contemplate, I close my dry eyes and listen to the annoying movie music grow quieter and quieter until I almost can’t hear it anymore, and the room seems to go still.
A blindingly bright light shines in my eyes, and I cringe away from it.
What the hell?
I hear snoring and a mewling noise, and I’m afraid to open my eyes to find out where I am. If I were at home, it would be quiet, peaceful, and dark.
