They're Strictly Friends (Tough Love Spinoff Book 1)

by Chloe Liese

  Mum pursed her lips at me. “You really can be. What’s gotten into you? It’s Elodie’s party, and you’re looking like someone just told you the ship is going down.”

  “It just might,” I muttered, rubbing the sweat off my forehead. Kai caught it and peered curiously at me, as Mum craned closer, a hand cupped around her ear.

  “Eh? What’s that? Couldn’t hear you.”

  “I said, it’s nothing, Mum!” I smiled as genuinely as possible. “I just got lost in thought for a moment. It’s a wonderful party, and you’ve made Elodie ridiculously happy, thank you.” I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

  Glancing around, I caught Zed’s eye and gestured toward the back of the room. He frowned, then nodded in acknowledgment, first bending down to speak to Nairne, who chatted happily with my dad and waved Zed off with a smile.

  “I’ll, uh…” I glanced between my family and Elodie. “I’ll be right back. Have to go water the flowers.”

  Mum scrunched her nose. “Goodness, so crass. Men,” she muttered, shaking her head and sidling up to Elodie and Sarah, while Ollie and Kai dropped into their usual topic of conversation—footie.

  “Right, be back in a jiff, darling.” I gave up Elodie rather reluctantly with a quick kiss on the head. She peered over her shoulder at me curiously as I backed away.

  I navigated my way carefully through patches of shadow and strobe lights to the hallway that led to the loos, finding Zed still trying to keep an eye on Nairne as he stood and waited for me. When I approached him, his gaze finally left her and looked me over, pinched in concern. “Everything okay? You kinda look like you’re going to puke.”

  “I sort of feel like I’m going to puke.”

  Zed looked at me seriously. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…” I wiped my forehead, running my hands through my hair. “I think I’m about to ask Elodie to marry me.”

  Zed’s brows flew up, his eyes wide. “You think? As in you’re not sure? About what? Asking her at all or asking her right now?”

  I paced back and forth, shaking out my hands, trying to lose the jitters. “I’m positive I want to ask her. It’s just that now feels perfect but it also feels terrifying.” I glanced over at him as his face broke into a slow, amused smile. “Much help you are. Don’t just stand there, do something!”

  “What the fuck am I supposed to do? Hold your hand? I went through that shit already; once is more than enough.”

  I glared at him. “You’ve no words of advice or encouragement? Bloody hell, Zed, I figured I could count on you.”

  Zed threw his hands up. “I—I don’t know, Lucas. You know you love her, you know you want to marry her, you know she’s crazy about you. Just ask her!”

  I stopped and turned toward him. “How helpful. Thank you, Zed. Just ask her,” I muttered, resuming my pacing.

  Zed stood there in exasperation, his gaze constantly bouncing back over to Nairne because the poor bloke was still so traumatized from their past few years. First his narrow escape from sordid family ties in Boston, then a string of violence that followed them as they tried to settle into life here in London. Zed’s life of peace had been hard won. I felt for him, that his anxiety and caution never really left him.

  “Sorry, Zeddy. Go back to Nairne. I know being away from her sets you on edge.”

  “Yeah,” he huffed. “But I need to get over it. Your dad’s right there, she’s completely safe, and I’m a neurotic asshole.” He turned back toward me, eyeing me critically. “You kind of are too, right now.”

  I pulled my shirt back from my chest and tried to get some air. “Fuck, it’s hot. It’s just, Zed—I don’t want to cock this up. She’s so precious to me, and I want it to be perfect. I want her to be impossibly happy.”

  “She will be, Lucas. It’s all right.”

  “How do you know?” I kept pacing, hands on my hips. “I could make an absolute mess of it.” Pausing, I turned toward him. “How did you do it, ask Nairne? You never said.”

  Zed rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s because I didn’t do it. Nairne did.”

  I gaped at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You’ll remember it was the dead of winter. She proposed to me in the middle of the night, right on the shore, shivering and stuck in the sand in her wheelchair. I wanted to fuck the sense into her afterward for being so dangerous, but it was pretty romantic, for Nairne. And we know Nairne doesn’t have a romantic bone in her body.”

  This was true. She was British like me, whether the Scotswoman wanted to admit it or not, and romance was not our forte. Practicality, yes. Romance, no.

  “So it wasn’t really perfect.”

  Zed laughed. “No. I was scared she wasn’t safe. Confused as to how she could possibly suddenly want to marry me after the great anti-marriage campaign of hers. But…” He shrugged. “I loved her, and I wanted to be with her. I figured so long as we kept communicating, kept choosing each other, we’d be okay. And so far we are.”

  I smiled, relief washing over me. “Right. Okay. Perfection is not the goal. Authenticity.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “Elodie loves you. Give her the man she loves.”

  “I can do this.” I clapped my hands together and shook out my arms, like footie days.

  “Fuck yes, you can, Lucas,” Zed said. “You love her, just tell her, and ask her in the way that’s right for you both. If it’s here in front of the entire population of Northern London, fine. If it’s tonight when you’re both going crazy over each other, fine. If it’s next week during coffee in the breakroom, fine. So long as it’s right for you both. Nobody else can speak into that.”

  Zed stepped forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “You got this. And now I’m gonna go get what’s mine, ’cause fucking Griff is closing in again, and I’m not feeling as nice as I was last time.”

  I laughed, patting his hand and shoving him off. “Get you gone.” He grinned, then turned, striding toward Nairne. “Zed,” I called, and he whipped around, brow furrowed. “Thanks.”

  On a nod, he winked and dissolved into the sea of people.

  “Right.” I took a deep breath as my hand slid into my pocket, feeling the little box I’d carried around for days now. “Time to put up or shut up, Lucas.” Then I joined the throng of people myself, my compass set to my North Star—the beautiful woman who waited across the room.

  Twenty-Two

  Elodie

  Feedback reverberated from the speakers onstage. I cringed and glanced around, trying to discover the source of the screech.

  “Bloody hell, what’s he up there for?” Sarah said. She craned around the few heads that were actually tall enough to obstruct her view. The whole Farthington-Edwards clan was a lesson in Viking genetic dominance—most over six foot, all shades of blond and ginger, long-boned and handsome. They were a rather daunting, albeit genial, lot.

  Sarah frowned and shoved someone aside to get a better look. “Must be serious. The man loves a microphone about as much as I loved my episiotomies.”

  I choked on my drink at her words, craning so I could see Lucas too. He stood under the lights, trying to adjust the microphone that came up to his sternum.

  “Sorry about that.” He smiled, eyes shining like liquid silver against the harsh lights. “Being six inches above the average-height male has its detractions.”

  Finally, he loosened the stand enough to raise it. Most voices were quiet by now, heads turned his way. Lucas wiped his forehead with his hand, then shielded his eyes from the glaring stage light.

  “Right, there you all are. Staring at me. Good. Erm, can somebody turn those down?” He pointed to the lights, and Remington called out to someone in back. Quickly the lights dimmed. “Brilliant, thank you.”

  The room was eerily quiet as Lucas scanned it. When his eyes landed on me, he smiled.

  “There she is.” A number of people turned around to see where he was looking. “That is the birthday lady, the woman of the hour. Elodie. But you all
know that by now, and if you don’t, you’re in the wrong place, so get out.”

  He was met with laughter and a few indecipherable jeers.

  Lucas smiled, like he was surprised people had been entertained by that. “Anyway. I’m standing up here because I wanted to say a few words that won’t adequately express how grateful I am that twenty-seven years ago, Elodie was born. In that moment, the world gained an incomparably generous heart, bright mind, and beautiful spirit. She is precious, and a true gift to the world. We are lucky to have her.”

  People raised their glasses in cheers to that. Tears pricked my eyes, and Sarah rested her hand on my back.

  “I don’t need to go on, because if you know Elodie—hell, even if you just met her because Mum cajoled you here with the promise of free booze and food”—Charli scowled while fighting a laugh as she shook her head—“you know this already. Everyone loves Elodie. She is pure goodness, loyal and intelligent, beautiful and funny. Tonight, we’ve celebrated that, and toasted her to many more years. And yet as I was peering around a little while ago it felt like the night wasn’t done yet, that something important was missing.”

  Lucas glanced down at his shoes, toeing something on the floor before he glanced back up. “It seems only right that in this room full of people who know and love us—well, at least who know me and love Elodie—” More people laughed, and Lucas chuckled to himself, then he glanced up at me as my heart began thundering against my ribs. “That I ask you to witness not just a celebration of Elodie’s life, but something else—something that will, I hope, see her on a continued path of happiness.”

  The sound of blood rushed in my ears. I tried to take a deep breath as Lucas smiled at me bashfully. Rubbing the back of his neck and squinting into the lights, he spoke into the microphone. “Darling, do you think you might come up here right about now?”

  People laughed, and others sniffled. The flash of cameras flickered, eager to catch the moment. Sarah nudged me forward, and those in front of me parted readily, smiling between me and Lucas.

  I walked up the three steps at the center of the band’s platform, empty but for Lucas, trying hard to keep my wits and breath. It was difficult to do, as he smiled at me and bit his lip nervously as I came close. When I was within reach, he took both my hands in his and faced me.

  “Elodie, a few months ago I told you none of this could be possible. Little did you know how long I’d wished for that possibility, how much I wanted what I believed we couldn’t have.”

  I exhaled unsteadily, tears dropping down my cheeks, but Lucas just smiled at me as his eyes bored into me with love. “You asked if you had any say in the matter, and I told you of course not.”

  Everyone chuckled, but Lucas didn’t look at them, he just saw me. “But as each day passed with you, I realized no matter how much I feared, I could not exist in a world that does not have you brightening it.” Gently he squeezed and relinquished my hands, reaching into his pocket.

  “So, now…” He dropped down to one knee, smiling up at me nervously. “I’m asking you to make of me either the greatest fool or the wisest man, and give me your answer, love.”

  His beautiful eyes, the colors of life—stormy skies and verdant earth—pierced me. His hair flopped over his forehead and shone in the lights that caught the handsome angles of his jaw and cheekbones. Those smooth lips and that long, straight nose pursed and exhaled patiently as I stood there, sobbing in silence.

  “Elodie Josephine Marie, will you marry me?”

  I nodded furiously, dropping to my own knees and kissing him madly. My fingers gripped his hair, pulling his neck so we were impossibly close. “Yes, my love, yes.”

  The whole place erupted in claps and calls, but we didn’t hear them. It didn’t matter really. It was nice that they were happy, that they got to share in our moment, but the world condensed to this breadth of space where Lucas kissed me and whispered sweet nothings. Where he flicked open a box with a diamond ring. A band of pavé, little cobblestoned diamonds, and in the center a perfect, rounded stone. It was proportionate and tasteful, yet just a little extravagant—a perfect expression of how Lucas loved me.

  “Oh, Loulou, it’s so beautiful. Thank you.” I cried as he slid the ring on, his eyes flicking from my mouth to my eyes. “Even so, you know I don’t need any of this, right? I just need you. Just you and me, d’accord?”

  Lucas smiled, smoothing my hair from my face as he kissed me again. “D’accord.”

  “El, slow down, darling, I won’t—Lord Jesus Christ,” Lucas groaned, slamming his hands back on the pillow. “Elodie, stop. I want to be inside you.”

  I just shook my head, murmuring around his cock as I took him deep down my throat. His strong hand gripped my shoulder, trying to pull me off, but I smacked him away, releasing his thick, perfect length with a loud pop. “Stop interrupting me, I’m making love to ta bitte with my mouth, and I can’t concentrate with all your complaining.”

  “Christ’s sake, woman. I don’t want to shoot my load down your throat the night you tell me you’ll marry me. Call me old fashioned, but I’d like to lay you back and take you good and slow. Make you scream my name a few times before I come—not get off from a jobby,” he grumbled.

  “Lucas, you have the rest of our lives to obliterate mon minou, now just let me suck you off for a bit like I want to.” I slid my hand up his length, reveling in the heat and tautness of his skin. Soft skin, painfully hard. I was crazy about it. As I ran my fingers lower, he groaned, glaring down at me.

  “You’re the devil incarnate.”

  I shrugged, pulling down the skin to expose his sensitive tip. Licking it thoroughly earned a string of curses that surprised even me. “I don’t know, Lucas, I think even I couldn’t conjure such colorful language. Maybe it’s you who’s the devil, not me.”

  As I took him deep again, his eyes drifted closed. “I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore, just that you’re going to make me come now if you don’t stop.”

  I moaned in pleasure, reveled in taking it all as he spilled, hot down my throat. Sitting up, I licked my lips, feeling like I’d just delighted in dessert.

  “I love that,” I sighed, lying on my back and rubbing between my thighs, where I ached. I glanced over at Lucas, and his face was terribly pained. I sat up quickly, pressing my hand on his chest.

  “Loulou, are you all right? Did I hurt you? Tell me, please.” I searched his face frantically, but he just shook his head back and forth.

  “I’m fine,” he wheezed, hands groping around until he found me, and pulled me tight against him. “I just—my vision went for a second, and it startled me.”

  “Oh God, Lucas. I’m so sorry.” I crawled on top of him and pressed my heart to his, chest to chest, stroking one cheek and kissing the other softly.

  “It’s all right,” he said hoarsely. Turning, he met my lips. “I wasn’t afraid.”

  I stared up at him, stroking his cheek still. “What do you mean?”

  He looked at me, adjusted his head on the pillow. “You know I see terribly at night, thus, all the nightlights. After Jo told me what was coming, I used to panic once the sun set. It was like a blanket of black draped over my eyes. Like when you go out in the woods, and there’s no light. No candles, no stars, just darkness. What if I woke up and it stayed that way?”

  I curled tight around him, wrapping my arms about his neck, wishing I could take this from him. Lucas pressed his lips to my hair, feeling my face with his hands. “But I don’t anymore. I’m not frightened, just…startled, perhaps.”

  “Lucas, it’s okay to be afraid,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair.

  “I know, darling,” he whispered back, kissing my nose, my cheeks, then my mouth. “There, I found it,” he laughed quietly, and tears fell down my face. “Now, no crying, not on your birthday, and doubly not on the night we got engaged, understood?”

  I nodded, directing his lips straight to mine, kissing them. Biting that bot
tom lip, my tongue dancing with his. He breathed in as our mouths deepened their touch, tongues tangling. Slowly his hips rocked into mine, his cock slipping against my center.

  “Elodie,” he whispered, his hands drifting down to smooth over my arse.

  “Yes, Lucas,” I answered against his lips, kissing them still and losing my fingers in his thick, tousled hair.

  “Take me inside you.”

  Silently, I rose up, guiding him in as he slid home. We both gasped, the familiar feeling of being nearly too full robbing me of air until I could get my bearings. Slowly I rose up and sank down on him, finding a steady rhythm. Lucas sighed, his eyes resolutely shut, hands moving everywhere over me—my shoulders and breasts, tugging softly at my nipples and scraping down my stomach. Then he found my clit and swirled over it with light, tantalizing circles.

  “Oh, God,” I whispered. His length hit me deep, beautifully hard as I took him, while his fingers worked their magic. I started to get close, then Lucas slowed my hips, softened his strokes.

  “Not tonight,” I pleaded. “Don’t make me wait.”

  He grinned, the bastard. “You love it when I make you wait. You come forever.” Shallow thrusts, fingers off my clit. His hands drifted featherlight up my ribs, tenderly cupped the undersides of my breasts. “Besides, I like to savor you.”

  He palmed my nipples, and I almost wept at the relief. My clit had a pulse, and I was so close.

  “Not yet, Elodie.”

  I wanted to smack his hard, ripped stomach, but his eyes were closed, and it would startle him. So I settled for swearing, foully, in French.

  Lucas’s eyes flew open. “Well then, someone’s tetchy.”

  “I’m serious, Lucas. I needed to come five minutes ago.”

  He sat up, curling my legs around his waist. Soft kisses, tongues tangling. His hands wrapped around my back and held our fronts pressed together. It was impossibly intimate, our bodies intertwined.

  “Darling, what you do to me.” His lips were soft and warm, whispering over my mouth and cheeks. I surrendered to our gentle rhythm and curled my arms around his neck.