Easy Ride (South Florida Riders Book 3)

by Breezie Bennett

  Suddenly, she rolls her eyes and looks out over the balcony, forcing a laugh and shrugging, as if to push away the moment. “I’ve never had your dick in my mouth before, either, Six.”

  I laugh heartily and wrap my arm around her shoulders, still wanting to kiss her. “Talk about a crime against humanity.”

  She rests her head on my arm, and we watch Miami Beach sparkle and glow for miles.

  I swallow hard, remembering that messing around with Whit is very temporary, and it’s pretty much certain that I’ll never see those fiery eyes looking up at me like that again. I’ll never watch her experience passion and desire and that kind of fun again.

  She clearly doesn’t want to feel anything, and I just flat out don’t know how.

  I pull in a deep sigh, wondering how the hell “just friends” has ever been enough. How it ever will be after this.

  Twenty

  Whitney

  It was a blow job. It can’t be emotional. I mean, even the most love-struck obsessive couples don’t have emotional blow jobs. Do they? It’s not a thing. It felt so intense only because I’m not used to it. And Chase is sinfully hot. And the fact that he was looking at me with something deeper than raw sex drive and physical desire was purely in my imagination.

  Right?

  “Cuz!” Melody snaps her fingers in my face. “Hello? I’m asking you if this is cute.” She holds up a strappy blue crop top and jiggles the hanger.

  “Sorry. I’m spacey. Just tired. But yeah, I like it! It’s very you.” I smile brightly and run my hand along the rack of shirts, trying to force last night off my mind.

  I promised Melody a cousins’ mall day since I don’t have work and she doesn’t teach yoga until seven p.m., but I can’t seem to get myself into the shopping mood.

  “Okay, Whit.” She shoves the shirt back onto the rack and loops her arm through mine. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee, and you can tell me what on earth is really going on.”

  I groan and let her drag me out of the store, knowing full well I’m an absolutely terrible liar, and since Melody already knows what’s going on with Chase, I might as well just dump the rest of it on her.

  “Two grande iced caramel macchiatos upside down with extra caramel and whipped cream, please!” Melody sings as we walk up to the Starbucks kiosk. “Trust me,” she says sternly, catching a glimpse of my eye roll.

  I snort. “As long as you’re paying, girl, I’ll drink your crazy liquid sugar all day.”

  She hands her card to the barista and arches a brow at me. “This coffee is a symbol of truth.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I’m buying you a coffee, right?”

  “Right,” I say slowly, nodding at the drink getting doused in whipped cream. “If you can even call it that.”

  “This is my gift to you, and in return you are going to tell me the truth and the whole damn truth. Because I know something’s up with you. And I think I know who it’s about. Got it?”

  There’s no point in denying anything. I take a deep breath, tearing the paper off a straw and popping it into the top of one of the drinks on the counter. “Okay, Mel.”

  We sit across from each other at a table next to the splashing fountain in the middle of the mall.

  “Dish,” she demands with a slurp of her caramel drink.

  “It’s about…Chase.” I lower my voice and peek around, as if some random group of mall patrons is going to hear me and judge the messy pile of confusion that is my love life.

  Melody fakes an exaggerated gasp. “Chase? What? I never would have guessed. Don’t tell me you’re running into problems with your little sex game.”

  I stifle a laugh and hush her. “Would you please keep your voice down? And don’t say I told you so. Okay…” I sip the sweet drink that has the vague taste of coffee buried deep within it. “Here goes. I think I might have just a tiny, itty-bitty, smidge of a crush on Chase.”

  “I’m shocked,” she says with flat sarcasm. “Keep talking.”

  “Last night, we had…oral sex.”

  “Ew! Why do you call it that? This isn’t a clinic, Nurse Cooper.”

  “Fine.” I lean close and meet her bright blue eyes. “I blew him. Better?”

  Melody nods approvingly. “Details. Please, God, details.”

  “It was…” I toy with a hangnail on my thumb and try to find the words to describe that particular activity. There really aren’t any that will do it justice. “Really something. I never thought of that part of sex as one of my favorites, but…” I can’t fight the giddy smile that pulls at my lips. “I had so much fun. It was so hot and wild and like nothing I’d ever done before. Nothing I’d ever felt before.”

  “Nothing like a good beej, cuz.”

  “Can’t argue with that. Apparently.”

  “So, from that it just seems like you guys are hooking up. Sounds physical enough to me.” She shrugs.

  “That’s the thing. It was so insanely physical. But sometimes, he would look at me, and it was, like, something more. It was hot and everything, but it was…Chase. I guess that must be what’s freaking me out. I think it was so amazing only because it was with him. The way we know each other, the way we see each other… It was like all our years of friendship and constantly being there for each other somehow made it way more intense, as if our bodies and hearts have subconsciously wanted to explore each other for a decade. It was in his eyes. He has such incredible eyes—”

  “Okay.” Melody holds up her hand and cuts me off. “I’m not gonna say I told you so, even though, wow…I literally did.” She rolls her eyes and nudges my arm playfully.

  “I’m not falling for him, Mel. It’s not like that. It’s just that I’m seeing him in a new way, I guess.” My voice trails off as I look into the rushing fountain and wonder what I would wish for if I threw a penny in it right now.

  “Do you want to, like, be with him?” She twirls a strand of pink hair and narrows her gaze.

  “It wouldn’t matter even if I did. Chase Kennedy doesn’t want to be with me. Or anyone. He doesn’t know how. I’m sure he just thinks he got some nice head from his hot friend and nothing more.”

  She purses her lips. “You guys still have to go all the way, right?”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “But maybe I should cut it off. End the whole sex lesson thing before I get in too deep and feel something…serious. Not only is he a grade-A womanizer, he’s my best friend in the world—both valid reasons why I cannot fall for him.”

  “Oh hell no.” Melody’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “You can’t cut it off, cuz. Then he’ll know you’re catching feels. And if he thinks you’re getting all lovey-dovey and totally crushing out on him, that’ll for sure mess with your friendship. He’ll feel weird about the whole thing, and you don’t want that. I know how important he is to you.”

  “Crap,” I whisper. “You’re right.”

  “You gotta finish out the agreement. At least just to prove it’s purely physical and you still see him solely as just your hotshot douchebag best friend. He can’t know you’re feeling anything beyond friendship and a little bit of fun sex.”

  I drink my caramel thing and shut my eyes, nodding slowly.

  “Besides.” She lifts a shoulder and bites her lip. “Maybe if you bang him, this will go away. Like, get it out of your system or whatever. As long as you can keep it physical.”

  I swallow hard and think of all the years I’ve spent side by side with Chase Kennedy and how I’ve never so much as considered the idea of having a crush on him. These few short weeks won’t matter in the long run. “I can keep it physical,” I assert, trying to convince myself as much as my cousin.

  “There you go. Just remind yourself: no emotions. It’s Chase!” She flicks her hand. “Lovable asshole Chase, who’s been your friend as long as I’ve been your cousin. Oh, and say it, please.” She grins widely. “Just once.”

  I roll my eyes and chuckle. “You were right, Mel. You
were so right.”

  She reaches across the table and gently holds my hand, her tiny wrist tattooed with the word Peace and her slender fingers decorated with rings. “You’ll be fine. And look at it this way!” She gives my hand a squeeze. “You said you felt…wild.”

  I laugh. “Yeah.”

  “So, at the very least, your little plan is working, right?”

  I smile and feel a sudden sense of relief. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

  I just hope I’ll be able to feel the same wildness when I’m looking at someone other than Six and his dirty-blond hair and magical, soul-melting eyes.

  Twenty-one

  Chase

  “Good practice, everyone.” Coach Watson’s voice booms through the locker room. “Rest up for Sunday.”

  I sit on the bench in front of my locker and start unlacing my cleats. I subtly roll out my shoulder, thanking God it hurts a lot less today. Whit’s electrifying blow job must have relieved more than just the tension in my dick.

  The image of her wide eyes and naughty mouth must have raced through my mind a hundred times during practice. I have no clue why I can’t stop thinking about it, but I’m chalking it up to the fact that it’s Whitney, and the other night was just another level of satisfaction for some subconscious curiosity left over from high school or whatever.

  No matter how many times I tell myself it’s just physical, it’s just Nit Whit, the whole thing makes me feel uneasy. I get this strange floaty feeling in my chest when I think about her now, and it’s not me being horny and wanting to screw her. It’s different. It’s weird.

  “Dude.” I hear Elliot Danes’ voice from a few feet away. “You’re gonna have to ask Kennedy. Sterling’s been out of the hookup game for a while now, and I was never really in it to begin with.”

  I see Matt McKenzie standing next to Elliot and Leo, clearly with some burning need for advice. Of course he asks Danes, aka Daddy Does No Wrong.

  “He’s right,” Leo agrees, glancing in my direction. “This is a Chase Kennedy specialty. And trust me, I don’t generally send anyone his way for this kind of advice.”

  “I can hear you, dickhead,” I call in their direction. “Whatcha need, shrimp?”

  Matt walks over and squats down on the bench next to me. “I’m looking for some lady advice.”

  I give him a cocky smile. “And you ask those pussies? Dude. They’re both married. Two living, breathing examples of how to get your balls locked up in some chick’s panty drawer.”

  For the first time probably ever, I don’t really believe what’s coming out of my incredibly douchey mouth.

  “Yeah,” Matt says through a laugh. “You’re right, man. I am only twenty-three. You were probably a total player at my age.”

  I hold up a hand. “Okay, rule number one is that you have to stop acting like I’m your fucking dad. I’m still a player.”

  Yeah. A player who can’t stop thinking about his childhood best friend and her freckles and shiny hair and cute-ass little nose.

  “Right, true.” Matt clasps his hands together. “So there’s this girl. And she’s giving me, like, hella mixed signals. It’s confusing. I really want to get with her, but I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

  I furrow my brow and shake my head. “Dude. You don’t need mixed signals. You’re an NFL QB.” I pat his back, surprised at how nice I’m being to the rookie who poses the biggest threat my professional career has seen.

  “Backup QB,” he corrects with a humble smile that almost makes me like him.

  “That was implied. Point is, you’re past the time where you need to play mind games with women. You’re a pro now, Junior. They’re gonna start falling at your feet.”

  He shrugs and raises his brows. “I’ve never been much of a playboy.”

  “Lucky for you, I’ve been enough of one for everyone on this damn team. So I know what the hell I’m doing. Tell you what, meet us at the Atlantic tonight. I’ll show you some classic ways to have a banging single life. So to speak.”

  Matt smiles and stands up. “Passing the torch, hell yeah. Thanks, Kennedy, that sounds sick.”

  “Yeah, don’t say sick. And I’m not passing anything.” I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Just be there at nine.”

  I decide tonight is as good a night as any for Whitney and me to score our…touchdown, since it’s always been part of the deal, and I can’t seem to stop picturing it. Besides, I can’t get Junior laid and go home by myself.

  Not when Whitney Cooper exists.

  Matt walks back to his locker, and I toy with the idea of “passing the torch.” Why does it sound like my era of being a fuckboy athlete drowning in pussy is over? Why does it feel like that? Why am I weirdly kind of a little bit okay with it?

  Goddamn Nit Whit and her seductive mouth and enchanting eyes and personality that I’ve adored since I could walk. She gives me shit for casting a spell on everyone I meet, but she’s the one who’s really magic.

  Twenty-two

  Whitney

  “You can just drop me off in front,” I say brightly to my Uber driver. “Thank you!”

  The car pulls up in front of the glitzy skyscraper on top of which the Atlantic sits and overlooks downtown, filled with hotshots and money and fancy drinks.

  I step out, and the car whips away from the building. The warm nighttime air wraps me up as I try to push away the swirl of emotions that races through my chest and heart and mind.

  I pick up my phone and reread Chase’s text, as if I wasn’t staring at it the entire ride to the bar.

  Meet me at The Atlantic. Take an Uber, because you’re coming home with me. Touchdown awaits.

  I silently curse the girly smile that pulls at my lips and the butterflies that soar in my stomach every time I read that stupid message.

  It’s just sleeping together. It’s just Chase. It’s part of the deal, a part I’ve known was coming from the very day I decided to take sex classes from my professional athlete best friend.

  I’m still trying to figure out if that was a miserable lapse in judgment or the best thing I’ve ever done. My logical mind and lady bits can’t seem to agree, and I refuse to let my heart enter the equation.

  I step forward, and the sliding doors into the lobby open automatically. The cool AC blasts my skin, and I feel the prickle of goose bumps ripple down my spine as I walk into the elevator. Which is because of the icy air conditioning. It has nothing to do with seeing Chase and kissing Chase and banging Chase.

  “Physical. Nothing more,” I whisper during the blissfully private elevator ride. “Just sex. Have fun. Learn a thing or two. Don’t fall for…”

  The elevator slows to a stop as the doors glide open, and those goddamn brown eyes are already sparkling in front of me.

  “There you are, Nit Whit.” Chase’s face is vibrant and bright. He’s full of his usual Kennedy charm and charisma, but tonight he’s more handsome than I’ve ever noticed, and just his smile is making my knees weak.

  Stay strong, Cooper.

  “Ask and you shall receive, apparently,” I tease with an eye roll, careful not to let my gaze linger on the painfully tempting bulge in his khakis.

  “Already got your favorite.” He hands me a cold bottle of Bud Light and places his hand on my back, guiding me to the table where the other guys are sitting.

  His hand slides lower and down my back, and I try to hide my gasp as he gives my ass a sneaky grab, an obvious reminder of what’s happening later tonight.

  As if I could have forgotten.

  “Kennedy’s best friend!” Frankie hops out of her seat and gives me a tight hug. She turns to Chase with her arm wrapped around me. “We completely love her, by the way.” She looks back at me, her stunning green eyes bursting with joy.

  Is that what people who are in love are supposed to look like?

  “No offense, but I’m so glad you broke up with your lame-o boyfriend, because now you’re at all the games and at the bars, and you’re so fun!” Frankie flips a sh
iny lock of hair over her shoulder.

  I laugh heartily and slide into the seat next to her. “Yeah, I’m so happy I get to see Six and his team and all you guys so much more now.”

  Jessica leans close to me. “It was very confusing to me at first that you guys are actually just friends and nothing more, because, I mean…” She nods toward Chase. “He puts his dick in everything that moves.”

  The joke stabs my chest way harder than I expect it to. I force a laugh and take a swig of beer.

  I feel Chase’s massive hands on my shoulders and lean my head back to look at him. “Hi, Six,” I say with a laugh.

  “Come here. Meet the little twerp who’s trying to take my spot.”

  I stand up and chuckle in surprise. “You invited Matt McKenzie to come out with you guys?”

  “Yeah, don’t read into it. It’s charity work. Like a Make-A-Wish kinda thing.”

  I snort and smack him lightly as we walk over to where Matt is standing by the roof railing.

  Matt McKenzie is young, but definitely handsome. He doesn’t have Six’s palpable aura of arrogance—at least not yet—but he’s got a lot of potential. And he’s apparently a massive threat as quarterback, so this kid could definitely end up like Chase in a couple of years.

  Although Chase was never shy or humble. He came out of the womb with a cheerleader’s panties in one hand and an All-Star trophy in the other.

  “Hey, I’m Matt. I saw you after the game the other day, but I don’t think we’ve officially met.” He holds out his hand and gives me a charming smile.

  “Yeah, I heard you’re the new QB with a better arm and a way more tolerable personality.” I shake Matt’s hand and wink at Chase.

  Matt laughs softly and juts his chin toward Chase. “Nah, Kennedy’s awesome. He’s actually been helping me get into the Riders offense a lot.”

  “Is that so?” I narrow my eyes at Chase, who bites his lip and looks skyward. “He is quite the altruist. Always thinking of others.”