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by Corinne Michaels

I grin. “You will have to go find out.”

  There’s nothing this kid loves more than donuts, and I thank God I had the forethought to get them. She’s gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Jessica and I alone.

  I reach out, wrapping my hand around her wrist and pulling her back up onto the bed. A soft laugh escapes her before the moment shifts. I need to kiss her, to know that what we shared wasn’t nothing.

  “Tonight, I’m sending her to my sister’s and then I am going to make love to you,” I tell her.

  Her finger slips against my lips. “Is that so?”

  I raise one brow, challenging her to rebuke me. “Is that a no?”

  “What about Amelia? About all the reasons we have?” she asks.

  What Oliver said about which one being worth more is ringing in my head. I’ll lose her again, but isn’t loving her again, no matter the time I get, worth it? Looking at her, there’s no question anymore.

  “This is between us. I know it’s not forever, so we have to be careful.”

  “We don’t have to tell anyone,” she agrees.

  “This is just for us. We’ll take what we can, and no one will ever know.”

  She watches me, looking for something, and then nods. “Okay. Tonight.”

  My lips touch hers, and I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to the night.

  “You owe me,” I tell Stella as she moves around her loft, putting things away.

  “My debts are all paid up to you, dear brother. I can’t take her tonight because I’m busy avoiding your father.”

  Yeah, sure, he’s my father.

  “Stella, I swear to God, I ask you for nothing, but I’m asking now.”

  “You ask me for shit all the time,” she points out.

  I was banking on her helping me. She always helps, especially when it comes to Melia. Of course, the one time I decide to throw caution to the wind and let my dick decide the direction, this happens.

  “Okay, but you bailed on her the other night.”

  She drops the shirt she was folding, glaring at me. “Are you kidding? I was stuck in a storm! I didn’t bail on her, and I swear to God, Grayson Parkerson, if you even insinuated that to her, I’ll beat you to within an inch of your life.”

  My sister, who weighs a whole buck twenty, couldn’t do anything, but the look she’s giving me does inject a healthy dose of fear.

  “I would never.”

  Her heavy breath falls from her lips in a rush. “Good. I’m sorry I can’t take her. You know I love having her.”

  “What plans do you have?” I ask.

  “None of your business. What plans do you have?”

  “None of your business,” I echo.

  Stella turns, eyes assessing me in a way that makes me feel as if she could read my mind. “How did things go with Jessica and Amelia?”

  Oh, how I hate siblings. “Fine.”

  “That’s good. Anything happen?”

  “Nope.”

  We kissed, we got interrupted, and we aren’t telling anyone that.

  “That’s good. I’m thinking of inviting her to come tonight.”

  I clench my jaw and refuse to say anything. My sister is goading me, and I have to play the part right. “I’m sure she’d like that.”

  She nods. “Yeah, she hasn’t really gotten to go out much or meet anyone. I can’t imagine she has much of a dating life.”

  “I didn’t know you were so interested in her love life.”

  Stella grins. “I’m not, but us girls in these small towns have to help one another out.”

  “Is that what your plans are tonight?” I ask.

  My sister stands and grabs my face in her hands. “I love you, but it’s none of your business.”

  My grandmother used to squish my damn cheeks, which is who she learned it from, and I still hate it. “One night. I’m just asking you this once.” She breathes heavily through her nose, and I know I’m going to have to give her something. “Jess and I . . . well, we need to talk.”

  “Talk?”

  “Yes.” There will be talking, lots of dirty talk as I strip her naked.

  “Fine. I’ll cancel my plans and watch my niece.” I go to say something, but she points her finger in my face. “But I don’t want to hear shit when I ask for a favor in return.”

  I raise my hands. “Fine, fine. I won’t give you crap later on.”

  “I regret this already. You’re the worst of the Parkerson boys. You could talk a penguin into buying snow.”

  “You’re the best sister I have.”

  “I’m the only sister you have.”

  I head to the front door and she follows. I’m standing on the other side of the threshold, ever so grateful that my parents didn’t stop at Alexander and gave us Oliver and Stella.

  I kiss her temple. “Which makes you the best.”

  “Yeah, yeah, go away so I can call this guy and not get laid tonight.”

  My big brother instincts kick in, and I glare at her. “Who is he?”

  “Stop it. I’m thirty, and I am definitely not a virgin, so spare me the Neanderthal routine.” She takes a few steps toward me. “Plus, it’s not like I’m an idiot and don’t know exactly how little talking you plan on doing tonight.” She closes the door before I can reply, and I don’t even care that she guessed it.

  Chapter 20

  Jessica

  My leg won’t stop bouncing, and the smile I’m trying to smother keeps appearing.

  “Are you going to tell me what has you so overwhelmed with emotions?” Dr. Warvel asks.

  “Huh? Oh. It’s just . . . a lot.”

  “Are you stumbling over the words or was that you’re not able to voice them?”

  I lace my fingers together and hold my hands in my lap. “No, that wasn’t a stutter, it was more a jumbling of thoughts.”

  “I thought so.” She smiles softly. “Do you want to discuss it?”

  She’s my safe place, and talking to her is really what I should do, but I sort of like the idea of whatever Grayson and I are starting will be only ours. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about it. It’s what we both want.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “That’s fair. I want to remind you that there are no judgments here. My goal is to help you work through things.”

  “And you have helped,” I assure her.

  “I’m glad. You’ve made great progress in your time with me. It’s clear that your brain is healing, and with the techniques we’ve been able to implement, you’re able to handle most situations.”

  “Except for one,” I murmur.

  Dr. Warvel tilts her head to the side. “Which would that be?”

  “Grayson.”

  “He’s the one topic you’ve tried to deny.”

  I love my therapist, but I hate when she calls me to the carpet. In my heart, I haven’t denied anything. I know what I feel, I always have, I just haven’t wanted to deal with it. Those are two very different things.

  “I don’t think that’s possible anymore.”

  “Did something happen?”

  I may as well tell her. I need to be honest and work this out. Tonight, something will change simply because it’s not possible for two people who love each other this way to have sex and not alter their relationship.

  Not that I’m sure how we’d define this anyway.

  Friends? Friends who loved? Friends who are denying this is going to change everything?

  As the breath leaves my lungs, the words follow as well. I tell her everything from my time with Amelia, how he bought our spot and built a house there, and then the dream. That is the pivotal moment for me.

  “How could you not share that?” Dr. Warvel asks with a smile. “You didn’t have your nightmare.”

  “I know. I think I’m still not sure though.”

  “That you didn’t have the dream?”

  I nod. “Maybe I did and then this was just another dream.”

  “For argument’s sake,
let’s assume you had the nightmare. What does it matter? You didn’t wake up with your heart racing and covered in sweat. Your mind allowed you to rest through it, to get through the dream without forcing you to live it again. So, my question is, so what if the dream about Grayson came after?”

  I lean back, processing what she said. Maybe it’s not the nightmare that scares me, then. If I don’t remember it but still had it without waking up terrified, does that mean it’s still an issue?

  “I guess it’s more that I don’t want it to be a fluke.”

  I see from the shift in her gaze that I hit the nail on the head. “And also the fact that there are some variables that are different.”

  “Like I was sleeping in his bed, surrounded by all his things.”

  “In a world you gave up,” she adds on.

  Therapy is not always fun. “Which I have struggled with.”

  She rests her forearms on her knees. “Let’s use this time to think about it, Jessica. If you want to meet Grayson tonight and let go of it all, then you should. If you want to run away and marry him, then that’s your choice. I just want you to be self-aware enough to know why you’re choosing what you are. Is it because, when he’s around, you feel safe? And if you only feel safe with Grayson, why? There is no right or wrong answer, just the truth.”

  I look up at her, my heart pounding. “The truth is that I love him and I feel safe with him because he doesn’t want to hurt me.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I want to meet him tonight because I can’t imagine not having whatever parts of himself he’s willing to share.”

  Dr. Warvel sits tall and crosses her legs at the ankle. “And the question is, are either of you really giving up or are you sharing with the other as a gift?”

  I’ve washed, scrubbed, and shaved every part that needed some TLC. After leaving therapy, I felt good. I know what my limits are and what I need to do to continue being honest with myself and also what Grayson is asking us to do.

  We’re not going to be serious. This is two people who have feelings for each other but also know the outcome. At least, that’s what I think it is.

  Dr. Warvel suggested we talk about it to set the boundaries and expectations.

  I just really want him naked.

  However, she’s right, and so, I’m standing in my room an hour before he’s supposed to pick me up—with a long text unsent.

  Me: I know what we’re doing is very adult, but there’s still a girl inside me who will always think of you differently. I want to make sure that when we do this very adult thing (which I really want to do) that neither of us thinks it means something more or less to the other. So, this is me, asking you . . . what does this mean?

  I hover over the send button. Talking myself in and out of it on repeat.

  “Send it, Jessica. Just send it,” I tell myself. “What’s the worst that happens? You don’t have sex?”

  That would be a tragedy. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced.

  I close my eyes, deciding to let fate take over, and press the general vicinity of the send button. Either it’ll go or it won’t, but I won’t have to see.

  The whoosh sound plays, and my heart drops to my stomach.

  It’s sent.

  Now I have to wait for a reply.

  This is why I avoided dating all these years. Nothing good comes of it. I never understood my friends who loved this part. The will-they or won’t-they part of the beginning of something. I hated it. Give me a man who will be like, “You, there, I will love you so all this time we’re going to spend together will matter.”

  That sounds like a much better plan than this.

  My phone pings, and I want to vomit as I open it.

  Grayson: It means whatever we want it to mean.

  I roll my eyes. That doesn’t help.

  Me: That cleared it all up.

  Grayson: What does it mean to you?

  Now I want to throw myself out of my window. I don’t want to be vulnerable, damn it. I want him to be first to clarify so that, when I say what it means to me, I don’t feel stupid. However, I’m not sixteen and I’m a grown-up who needs to be honest.

  I’m also quitting therapy because it’s making me deal with shit I’d rather not.

  Me: It means a lot. It means that, even if we’re not telling people, I’ll know, and it matters to me.

  I wait for those little dots to show up on the screen, letting me know he’s at least typing, but there’s nothing.

  Great. I followed my stupid feelings and was honest, and look where it’s gotten me. I could’ve been having sex tonight. With a great guy who I could be naked with and would’ve left me very, very happy.

  Now, I’m pacing because I went and listened to my shrink and tried to define what this is to keep myself from getting hurt.

  I start to wonder if maybe I should text back and say I was just kidding and that I’m naked and waiting, but that seems ridiculous.

  This is all so damn complicated. Why do I have to love this man? Why couldn’t it be Jack or someone I don’t have a past with who wants to meet up tonight?

  The reason it’s not anyone else is because there is no one else. And that’s the saddest part of it all.

  Fifteen minutes pass without Grayson responding, and I sink onto my bed, rejected and embarrassed. I let out a long sigh and debate changing back into my sweatpants and removing this rather uncomfortable lace bra and underwear.

  Once I stand, I hear something tapping my window. The smile forms before I even have to look because there’s only one person who has ever done this. I rush over, push it open, and find him looking up at me.

  I rest my elbows on the sill, smiling like a lovesick teenager. Grayson turns me into this. A hopeful girl who doesn’t think life is full of nightmares. “What are you doing?”

  “Come down so I can show you.”

  “You didn’t answer my text,” I tell him with my heart pounding.

  His lips turn to a playful smirk before he reaches into his back pocket and takes out his phone. After a few seconds, I hear the chirp behind me.

  “I’ll be right back, I just got a text.” I practically dive for the phone to see what he said.

  Grayson: It means something to me.

  I clutch the phone to my chest, fighting back the urge to run to him, but I think about what Dr. Warvel said about expectations. It will mean something to both of us, which means we will both end up hurt. Then again, isn’t that the truth with anything in life? We take risks, we put our hearts out there, and sometimes, we don’t come out unscathed.

  I don’t want the rest of my life to be filled with regrets regarding him.

  He bought the land, built a house, and a part of me—the very stupid part—wants to think it’s because he’s been waiting for me.

  I head back to the window, looking at him with fingers hovering over the phone, knowing I need to reply.

  Me: I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you.

  He looks up at me and then back to the phone.

  Grayson: Then don’t make me scale your house. Come down here, Jessica.

  Me: Okay.

  There was never really any doubt I would.

  My feet move quickly, taking the stairs two at a time to get to him. I reach the front door, my breath is coming in short bursts as I throw the door open.

  He’s standing there—waiting.

  But it’s as though all the patience we had is gone in that single instant. The time that we’ve allowed to pass is used up and one more second will kill us.

  Grayson’s hands move quickly, capturing my face, and then his lips are on me. There’s desperation, desire, and determination that encapsulates us. I hold him tight, letting him kiss me, kissing him back.

  He walks us inside, his mouth not leaving mine until I kick the door closed, causing us both to jump. “Your mother?”

  “Work,” is the only word I can get out b
efore his mouth returns to mine. He lifts me up, my legs wrapping around his middle as he carries us back upstairs. “Third door on the . . .”

  “I remember.”

  I grin, running my fingers through his thick, brown hair. I want to ask him questions, ask him where we go from this, but I want him more than I care about any of it.

  Nothing will stop me from having him again.

  We enter my room, and he pushes me against the door. His hands on each side of my head as he cages me in. “I want you so badly.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I want you too.”

  Grayson’s lips move to my ear. “I’m going to have you here because I can’t . . . I can’t fucking wait.”

  My eyes flutter closed as the deep timbre of his voice goes through me. The blood pumping through me warms every part of my limbs. “And then?” I ask.

  “Then I’m taking you to my place where we’ll do it again.” He kisses my neck. “And again.” Another kiss, this one lower by the hull of my throat. “And again.”

  “That’s a lot of stamina,” I manage to get out, sounding breathless.

  “For you, love, I plan to go all night.”

  If his body weren’t pressed against mine, I would’ve sunk to the floor. Holy hell.

  As if to seal his promise, he kisses me again, hands moving almost frantically to get me out of my clothes. Grayson pulls my shirt off as I scramble for his belt.

  There is nothing about this that’s sexy and slow. It’s two people who can’t wait another minute to feel each other. I fumble with the button on his jeans as he takes my nipple in his mouth, sucking hard.

  He grips my wrists, pinning them over my head. “Stay like that,” he commands. “Don’t move.”

  “But . . .”

  “Don’t move, or I’ll stop, and trust me, you won’t want me to stop.”

  Oh, God. My back is against the cold door, and I’d swear I was on fire. Everything is burning around me as he pulls my pants down and drops to his knees.

 

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