by Nikki Sloane
A girl from accounting sat two booths over so I had to choose my words carefully. “My boyfriend’s not real happy with me right now. He didn’t want me to have lunch with you.”
“I get it. I was confused, and I got scared. But, Evie, I’m not anymore. I love Amy. I had to screw everything up to figure it out, and I’m so sorry.”
I felt a smile dawn on my face. “I’m happy you got it figured out. Everything works out for a reason.”
The phone vibrated on the table.
I made a face. Why did that matter?
We chatted about Blake’s new plan to propose. Now that he was going to be a father, he couldn’t wait to get started on his happily-ever-after with her. That was how he knew Amy was the one.
“Do you know if Logan wants kids?” That forced my eyes to dart around and drew Blake’s suspicion. “What is it?”
“We’re not public with our relationship. It’s complicated right now. But yeah, he wants kids.”
“And other than today, things are good between you two?”
“Yes. Yeah.” I gave a slight nod. “They’re good.” And they were. Right?
Blake’s amber-colored eyes blinked and his eyebrows lifted. “What is it?”
I’d forgotten how well Blake knew me, and what a terrifically awful liar I was. “I told him I loved him. Like, a while ago. He hasn’t said it back.”
His eyes widened. “I’m sure he will.”
“I know. It’s just hard, though. I’m in love with him. Like, head over heels, crazy as hell in love. Birds singing and rainbows and all that shit. He feels it, I think, but I need him to say it.”
A half-smile formed on Blake’s lips, and the silence made me babble.
“You know,” I continued, “I thought he hated me and I couldn’t have cared less, because I thought he was an arrogant, self-absorbed jerk. But I was totally wrong, and the whole time I was too blind over you to notice him. I’m pissed at myself for not realizing sooner.”
“Realizing?”
Since we were having our first honest conversation with each other in what felt like a lifetime, I pushed through. “That he could be the one I end up with. I know it’s too soon, and that’s such a ridiculous thing to say. The One. Ridiculous to be feeling, but . . . that’s the way it feels.”
Blake’s gaze left mine and went over my head in alarm.
This restaurant had fast service, was affordable, and close to our office building, which meant it was crawling with coworkers. I’d never thought he’d walk in and risk it, but I’d been wrong.
“Hey, man.” Blake’s worried focus shifted back to me.
I glanced over my shoulder and couldn’t breathe. Logan hesitated behind me, his face unreadable.
“How long have you been there?” It was barely a whisper.
“Since the birds were singing,” he replied, his voice unsteady.
Oh shit. Shit! Nothing like confessing you believe he’s the one after only two months of dating. He came to the table and stood over us, his wide, hypnotic eyes on mine. At least he hadn’t bolted, but I had absolutely no idea what was going on inside his head. I wanted to slide under the table and hide.
The rich brown stare swung away from mine. “I’m Logan Stone.” He extended his hand out to Blake, who blinked at the hand, then shook it.
“Blake Haluson.”
My brain refused to function. My gaze went to the tabletop and my ears burned in embarrassment. What the hell was I going to do? Just when things couldn’t have possibly gotten worse, Debbie materialized from fucking nowhere.
“Hey, guys. You having an impromptu meeting?” she joked, but her eyes clouded with suspicion.
“I was just asking Evelyn and her friend what was good,” Logan answered. He was probably looking at me, but all I could do was stare at the dark oak table.
Debbie went on in detail about her favorite sandwich, and he pretended to care with enthusiasm until she flitted past.
“It was nice meeting you,” he said to Blake.
“Yeah, you, too.”
“I’ll see you back at the office, Evelyn.”
“Yeah, see you.”
I heard his footsteps carry him away. My eyes slid to Blake’s. He looked stunned.
“That was interesting.” I must have made a face that mirrored the sickening feeling I had inside, because Blake’s face filled with concern. “I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
I took a deep breath before turning my key in his lock, steeling myself. I’d gotten a text from Logan at twenty to five:
It wasn’t a question.
The train ride to his apartment had been spent mapping out a way to not make me seem like a lovesick, moon-eyed girl who wanted to have ten thousand of his babies.
He wasn’t in the kitchen or the living area beyond. I set my purse down on the entry table, then thought better of it and tucked it in the closet where he liked it.
“Logan?”
There wasn’t an answer. I checked my phone for text messages or a missed call. Nothing. Where was he? I sent a text asking when to expect him, and he replied he was stuck in traffic and would be home shortly.
I called Payton, frantic, revealing the whole mess. She tried to calm me, but wasn’t much help. Payton was always honest, and given Logan’s history, she was worried for me.
Behind me, the front door creaked opened as Logan came in. I turned to face him and almost dropped the phone. “Logan’s home, I gotta call you back.”
“Hi,” he said, setting the plastic bags carrying what I assumed was our dinner on the counter. He set the other item down too – a glass vase bursting with gorgeous red roses. “These are for you.”
My shaky hand shoved my phone in my back pocket. “Why?”
He paused. “Why? I can’t buy you flowers?”
“It’s suspect. Are you breaking up with me for the crazy things you overheard come out of my mouth?”
His smile was mesmerizing. “It didn’t sound like you want that.” He approached, his arms wrapping around my back and drawing me in. “I was being overly-protective. I came down to that restaurant thinking . . .”
“You were going to challenge Blake to a duel?”
His eyes glinted with amusement, then sobered. “I thought he was going to talk you into leaving me.”
“No. He wanted my advice on how to propose to his girlfriend, who’s pregnant.”
His eyes softened. “So, I bought flowers.” He motioned to the vase. “I should have trusted you to have it under control.”
“What about what I said? Can you pretend you didn’t hear it?”
“Why would I want to?”
He made everything upside-down again. “I don’t know, because it goes against the general rules of dating.”
The devious look he had made my mouth water. “I thought you knew I liked it when you break the rules.”
I’d forgotten to call Payton back, and the next morning she broke down and called me at work.
“What happened?”
“We’re okay. He was surprisingly cool about it.”
Jamie dropped a birthday card on my desk. It seemed like it was always someone’s birthday in the office, and I signed it before reading who it was addressed to.
“Who’s birthday is it?” I asked her.
She collected the card from me. “Logan’s.” She disappeared, and the gasp on the other end of the phone told me Payton had heard the exchange.
“Did you know it was his birthday today?”
“No.” I was so fucked. I hadn’t the faintest clue what to get him. He had everything he needed. And he’d told me on more than one occasion that having me in his bed was all he wanted. So, what now?
We hung up and Payton immediately started brainstorming ideas, sending me text messages. Stuff for his upcoming marathon? Nope, he had it covered. Some sort of tech item? If he wanted something for himself, he bought it. And what could I afford on my tiny paycheck?
I sent him a text.
We’d agreed no m
ore attempts at lunch after yesterday, so that meant I could go out during my break and get his present, but I had to come up with something first. For as creative as I could be at designing, I was the worst gift-giver on the planet.
Payton texted later.
No, he didn’t need porn. He had those cellphone videos of us. Watching us have sex was so much hotter than the fake stuff—
Oh.
Well, that was an idea.
It made my heart race. My throat clamped too tight to talk, and that was fine. I couldn’t ask what I was about to out loud, with only a half-wall partition separating me from my coworkers. My nervous fingers tapped out the message to Payton.
chapter
TWENTY-ONE
He wouldn’t be home until eight. I gave Payton the tour of his place and then pulled down the bottle of tequila.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked her.
“Hell yeah. Are you?” She motioned to the shot I’d just poured. I downed it and considered her question. When she’d said she wanted to watch us have sex, Logan had said he was flattered. Giving him praise or an ego boost seemed to affect him deeply. He loved it.
So, the plan was to recreate the night Logan and I had truly met, the night we saw each other as we were. Payton would blindfold me, tie me down, and then wait with me until Logan came home. If he wanted to ask her to stay and watch, I was okay with that. I’d have the blindfold on anyway.
I didn’t want to get performance anxiety though. Last time I hadn’t had any warning that we were going to be exhibitionists. Tonight, I had plenty of time to consider what was going to happen and get worked up over it. My hint of excitement was stifled by nerves. She was my best friend and totally comfortable with anything, but still. What if this made things weird? How could it not? I did a second shot, and she did one, too.
“What level of sloppiness are we shooting for?” she asked when I poured my third.
“Just on the drunk side of drunk.”
I didn’t eat dinner, so the liquor kicked in fast. Twenty minutes after we’d each done three shots, I swayed into the bedroom, buzzing. I was less anxious about her watching now. Much more eager to hear his reaction when he came home. I giggled to myself when I pulled my top over my head and almost lost my balance in the closet.
“Shit, he’s got you hanging up your clothes? You would do anything for him.” A smile spread across her exotic face. Payton set her purse down beside the chair in the corner. It was the one she’d be watching from if everything played out as I assumed it would.
She pulled a mess of black fabric from her purse and tossed it on the bed. Ribbon to tie me up. I tugged my jeans off and folded them, setting them on the shelf of the closet. At work, I’d snuck away for a late lunch and called Payton from a table in the back of the restaurant so no one could hear the indecent conversation I had with her. She’d agreed right away, even offering to pick up a blindfold and ties, and there was a crinkle of plastic now as she opened the blindfold from its package.
Like all of the other crazy sex decisions I’d made recently, once I’d decided on this I didn’t have a lot of regret or hesitation. Only excitement.
Payton bent down and secured one of the ribbons to the bed frame, rising up to view me when it was finished. Her eyes traveled upward over me, and they were hooded when they met mine.
“When do you think he’ll come home?”
I bent my arms to unhook my bra. “He’s usually back around eight.”
The bra was undone, and set on top of my jeans on the shelf. It was odd, the feeling that she was looking at me. She hadn’t looked at me like that the night in the club when I’d undressed, or the day I’d stripped in front of Joseph. Anticipation clung in the air, heavy and thick.
“He might be early,” she said, securing the other tie.
And it would look rather awkward if he walked in right now. I hurried, hooked my thumbs under my panties and pulled them off. I thought about leaving them on the floor of his closet, and because I was naked and drunk, I smiled. He disliked clothes on the floor, so I left them there to tease him.
Payton hesitated beside the bed, waiting for me to climb up on it, an expression I didn’t understand fixed on her face.
“What’s wrong?” I folded the comforter down to the edge of the bed, then again so it was a narrow strip, and climbed onto the sheets.
“I don’t want to make things weird between us, but . . .” She paused. “Your tits are amazing.”
I laughed at her unexpected compliment. “Okay, thanks. Yours are really nice, too.” I mashed the pillow with my hand and lay down on it, spreading my hair out beneath me.
“You’ve been checking out my rack?” She gave me a pretend judgmental look.
I’d only seen her naked, like, a thousand times. “You hardly ever had clothes on when we lived together.”
She handed me the black blindfold and I took it, along with a deep breath. Good things waited for me once I had it on, so I didn’t waste time. I positioned it right where I wanted it, slipped into darkness, then surrendered my first wrist to her soft hand.
“Tell me if it’s too tight, I’m not so good at tying slipknots.”
The ribbon wound around my wrist. A second time, and I felt the tug as she knotted it. It was tight, but not too tight. Her footsteps led her around the bed.
“Scoot over, you’re not centered.” My heart beat faster at her hushed voice. I slid across the sheets, carrying the pillow with me, and scratched my nose. Of course it had begun to itch. Her grip was light on my free wrist, drawing it up so she could tie it off.
“Now comes the waiting,” I said, when it was done.
But the side of the bed dipped down. She’d sat beside me, and with the blindfold on I could focus on her movements by sound. Ends of her hair brushed on my chest when she leaned over me, her breath right beside my face.
My head jolted backward when her lips brushed mine. “What are you doing?” It came out confused and not angry. It wasn’t the first time she’d kissed me. We’d been out bar-hopping after graduation, and she’d been hit on relentlessly by this guy who would not take no for an answer. He’d followed us to another bar, and it was the only time I ever saw Payton nervous. So when she told him she wasn’t into guys, she turned and kissed me, and I played along.
It hadn’t worked. All it did was put me in his sights too, and eventually we hid in the bathroom for twenty minutes and escaped out the back. She’d thanked me, and that had been all. But there was something nice about how she’d kissed me then, tentative and cautious at first, and then greedy and passionate when she knew I was willing to help her sell the lie.
It was sort of the same this time. She didn’t answer my question with words. Her satiny lips pressed against mine hesitantly, her breath hurried, and this time I was too stunned to react. A hand slipped behind my neck, and her fingers curled into my hair, and the kiss deepened another shade.
“Whoa, wait,” I said, breaking it off, my head spinning. “Payton—”
“I’ve never been with another woman.”
I don’t know which was more surprising; the fact that she hadn’t, or that I was technically more experienced than her at something. She tasted like tequila this time, and her sultry kiss was hypnotic. I didn’t have use of my hands, so I couldn’t stop her, nor could I slide my hands through her hair and hold her into the kiss. And I had absolutely no fucking idea which one I would have done.
The lips abandoned mine and sought out the skin below my ear, and her silky hair fell into my face, pulled into my mouth along with the ragged breaths I was struggling for. “What are you doing?” I asked again, desperate and disoriented.
“Getting you warmed up for him,” she purred into my neck. Her palm was flat on my shoulder, inching down, and when I realized where she was heading I jolted again. No idea if it was a recoil or a reaction to the fire her skin on mine created. The hand crept over and down, until . . .
“Your hand is on my boob.
” Sometimes when I’m drunk I like to say the obvious stuff out loud.
Her mouth returned to mine, muffling any protest I might have made. I couldn’t think when she was touching me. Everything scattered hopelessly. What would happen if I asked her to stop? Would things descend into awkwardness? What would happen if I kissed her back? She was a beautiful woman, desired by many, and that she now desired me was powerful.
There was a tiny voice that said this was cheating. I loved Logan. I shouldn’t be kissing someone else, and certainly not my best friend. I turned my head again, ending the kiss, but I couldn’t do anything about her hand that continued to massage me. Her fingernails scraped lightly over my nipple and I gasped. It felt wrong. And good.
“We can’t,” I said, breathless. “You’re my best friend, and I’m with Logan.”
“You don’t want to?”
I struggled to find an answer. One that wouldn’t hurt her feelings, wasn’t a lie, and wouldn’t require me to really consider whether or not I wanted this, because I worried I did. “We shouldn’t. It’s going to mess things up between us.”
She shifted on the bed to where she seemed to be lying beside me. “No, it won’t. We could do it as a one-time thing. As long as we communicate and set some rules, I think it could be really fun.”
Like I needed more rules. “But Logan—”
“Won’t be here for at least a half-hour.” Something flat and wet dragged across my nipple, then swirled. Her tongue.
I jerked against the ties. “Oh my god.”
She followed it by using her teeth, sucking me into her mouth and nipping at my flesh. I felt a rush of wetness between my thighs at how naughty this was. If Logan walked in right now, what would he do? Would he be angry? Would he want to watch? Encourage?
“Please, Evie?” she whispered against my skin, her lips moving on me. “I’ll make you feel so good, and I promise I won’t let it get weird.”
My conflicted mind, impaired by the tequila, couldn’t raise an answer, but my body could. When she kissed me on the lips, I parted mine and gave her tongue entrance into my mouth. I kissed her back, telling myself the liquor had made this decision, like that would absolve me. I moaned against her mouth as her body rose over me and her jean-wrapped legs went on either side of my lap. Her touch was more deliberate now, caressing and exploring my skin, followed by her hot mouth. The weight of her body pressed onto my center, increasing the sensation there.
