Author: Cheryl McIntyre

No. I hated it when he was with Heaven and can’t explain the level of happiness when she stopped coming around so much.

“Is the difference between a friendly hug and a real boyfriend hug that big of a deal to you? A kiss? More? And would it hurt to know he’s doing those things with another girl?”

Hurt? No. It would be agony. I want that. I want him to kiss me and hold me. Not some other girl.

“How do I prove to him that I’m ready for more?”

Guy does this awkward headshake-nod-shrug gesture. “Talk to him? Tell him how you feel? It’s worked wonders for others.”

I’m back to staring at the freckle again. I’m not the best at sharing my feelings. Feelings are so messy and uncontrollable. It’s so much easier to pretend you don’t have any than it is to not only acknowledge them, but proclaim them.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Guy asks.

I groan. Because I know what the worst is.

36

The Kill

Chase

I clench my teeth as I glare at the caller ID.

Annie.

I wonder if she’s calling me with that guy still in her bed. If I hear him in the background, I might lose my shit.

I inhale a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

“Hello?” My voice comes out gravely, my tone tight.

“Hey,” she says softly. My insides twist. How can she sound so normal? Sweet even? “I’m just checking in.”

I grind my teeth until they hurt. “Okay.”

“You all right?”

I huff out a bitter laugh. “I’m great. How about you? You all right, Annie?”

She’s quiet for a moment, and then, “You sound pissed off. What happened?”

Ha. What happened? I heard some douche bag give you an orgasm and it made me want to stick needles into my eardrums. “Long night at work.”

“I won’t keep you then…”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Do you have a song for me tonight?”

I close my eyes, squeezing them so tightly my head begins to throb. “Yeah,” I say. “The Kill. Thirty Seconds to Mars. When you listen to it, I want you to really listen to it. Hear it. Hear me.”

“Okay,” she agrees. I can hear the confusion in her voice.

“By the way,” I add, “someone left your dorm room door open tonight. That’s not safe. Anybody could have walked in.” I don’t wait for her to reply. I hit end then toss my phone onto the desk. I hate myself for saying goodbye to her, but I can’t be her friend. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt to know she’s with someone else. It’s better this way. I’d rather rip the Band-Aid off once, quick and semi-painless, than pick at it over and over, day in and day out, for who knows how long. I can’t and I won’t.

~*~

I look at the clock on the nightstand in disbelief. Why the hell is someone beating on my door at three in the morning? I sit up, pissed off because I had just fallen asleep. I flip on the lamp, squinting against the harsh light.

“I’m coming,” I say as I pull the door open.

I’m not sure what surprises me more, the fact that Annie’s standing in front of me in her pajamas looking livid, or that I’m relieved to see her standing in front of me in her pajamas, livid or not.

“What the hell does it mean?” She thrusts her iPod at me, shoving it into my hands. I look down at it, reading the song playing. I can hear the music blasting through the attached ear buds. “You’re finished with me?”

I sigh and step back, giving Annie room to come in so we don’t have to do this out in the hallway.

I forget I’m in a pair of boxer-briefs until I sit down on the couch, the pleather cold on my bare back.

“What’s it mean?” Annie demands. She places her hands on her hips, her eyes boring into mine. “Tell me,” she whispers.

“I stopped by your room after work.”

She looks at me blankly. “Okay…?”

I rake my fingers through my hair roughly. She’s going to make me say it. Fine. “I heard you. With your company. I can’t…” I trail off as my voice gives out. I still can’t say it.

“You heard me? What company? I haven’t been home all night…” Her eyes narrow and she takes a deliberate step in my direction. Her chest is rising and falling quickly with her angered breaths and she looks like she wants to dick-punch me.

“I haven’t been in my room since nine o’clock because Hannah’s boyfriend came for a surprise visit,” she states slowly. Her tone razor sharp. “It’s their anniversary. What did you hear?”

Oh.

Shit.

My eyebrows rise in revelation. And then I smile. Because I’m happy. She’s pissed. But I’m ready to start river-dancing or some weird shit. Annie didn’t do a rich douche bag.

“I, um… I’m sorry,” I say. “I heard them and—”

“And you just assumed it was me. Having sex with someone else in my room.”

Ouch. Does she need to say it like that? “Yes?”

She slits her eyes, her lips pressed so firmly together the surrounding skin whitens. And then she kicks me in the shin.

“Damn it,” I hiss. “I said I was sorry.” I look up from checking my leg for bruises—one’s already forming—and I notice a gloss to her eyes.

“Are you crying?”

A tear slides down her cheek and she bats it away. Shit. She is crying. I stand up, wanting to comfort her, but she puts her hand up in warning.

“I listened to that song over and over, trying to figure out what the hell I did wrong. I played it on repeat, trying to come up with some reason you’d do this to me. I couldn’t understand… And it’s all because you thought I was hooking up with another guy?”

Both of her hands disappear into her hair as she combs it out of her face. She starts pacing and I watch her silently. She’s been right all these years.

I’m an asshole.

And stupid.

But mostly an asshole.

Annie whirls around to face me, her hair falling right back into her face. “The hardest part for me,” she murmurs, “is how you could think—even for a second—I would want anyone in my room, unless it was you.”

Unless it was you.

I freeze. Every inch of me is still, except for my heart, racing inside of my chest.

Unless it was you.

“You want me in your room?”

She licks her lips and shoves her hair off her shoulders. “I want you…”

“You want me to what?” I ask carefully.

She shakes her head. “That’s it.” She swallows tightly. “I want you.”

I take a step, and then another until my chest is brushing hers. I lift my hand, skimming it across her cheek. I wait for it, but it never comes. She doesn’t flinch. Her gaze holds mine with determination. I can see myself reflected in her eyes and I know with certainty that’s how I always want it to be.

I bring my other hand up and gently guide her head back, angling her mouth closer to mine. I smooth my thumb over her parted lips, softly, but with enough pressure to make the plump skin move. They’re like velvet. I can feel the warmth of her breath. The moisture of her mouth. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so much.

Each heartbeat that passes while I touch her like this is agony. But the best kind.

I move in until I can taste her breath on my tongue. “I want you too,” I whisper into her mouth. I slide my tongue across her bottom lip, groaning at the sweet flavor. I nibble there for a moment, savoring.

Annie gasps and then moans against my lips.

Fuck.

Her hands trail up my bare stomach, my muscles clench and spasm in response to her soft caress. She stops on the back of my neck, her fingers locking firmly. Standing on the tips of her toes, she arches her body into me until all our points are touching. Her hips flex into mine. I drop one hand to her back, pressing her closer.

“Annie?”

Her breathing is erratic. Her eyes pinched closed. And her lips… God her lips are parted, waiting. Wet and ready for me.

“Hm?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

She nods, causing our mouths to brush once, twice, three times. She whimpers in her throat and I feel it coarse through my body. Hot and needy.

I lick my lips, but we’re so close, I catch hers as well. She quivers, her chest trembling against mine. I close my eyes and finely, finely press my mouth flush against hers. She opens for me immediately, her tongue searching.

We both make a noise at the first contact. Something primal and appreciative. I’m so hungry for her. My hands hook around the curve just below her ass and I pull her closer. Press into her harder. I’ve never been allowed to touch her like this. Taste her. Feel her. I don’t want to stop. I don’t think I would even know how.

Annie’s leg glides up mine. Higher. Higher. The movement brings us closer together. It’s the sweetest torture. I skim my hand over her leg, hooking it around my hip, and then I pick her up. Her other leg naturally wraps around my waist and I step back until I find the couch. Falling back heavily, Annie securely in my arms, I hit somewhere in the middle, jostling us, but never breaking the kiss.

As if on instinct, Annie sways her pelvis, rubbing against my lap. She’s so warm. Everything she’s doing feels incredible. But I’m a greedy bastard because I want more.

I find the hem of her thin tank top and push it up, exposing her stomach. I love the way it feels, skin to skin. I slip my hand inside and let my thumb trail the under curve of her breast. I want to do so much more, but I know I need to take it slow. It’s taken us over six years to get here. I don’t want to scare her off. She shifts, giving me better access to touch her more, which surprises me as much as it excites me. She’s not scared—she wants me to touch her.

So I do.

I go higher, working my fingers into her bra. She sighs when I meet her naked skin. My other hand skims up her leg, continues through an opening in her pajama shorts—the ones I’ve always loved—and I caress her. She feels damp and swollen, and so incredibly good.

I freeze, one hand inside Annie’s shorts, the other up her shirt. She pulls back, looking at me questioningly.

I reluctantly remove my hands from inside her clothes and pull her shirt down. “I want you so badly,” I growl. “But I don’t want to take this farther than you’re ready for.” It’s a question, not a rejection.

She stands up, her cheeks red, her hair falling to shield her from my view.

“Okay,” Annie utters. “That’s probably a good…a good idea.” She exhales roughly. “Guy’s probably wondering where I am.”

I adjust myself and pull her back into my lap, brushing my fingers through her hair. It’s messy, tangled, and I grin because I know I did that. She looks perfect like this. Disheveled hair, pink cheeks, sitting on my lap.

“You’re staying with him tonight?” She nods stiffly and I narrow my eyes. “I’ll take you back—I want to make sure you get in okay. But I need to know that you’re leaving because it’s late and you don’t want Guy to worry. Not because of this.” I gesture from her chest to mine, and then trail my thumb over her red and puffy lips. “You aren’t running from me, are you?”

Her eyes meet mine and she smiles softly. “No. No running.”

“Good,” I say. “Because, regardless of my name, with this hard-on, I don’t think I could chase you.”

37

Something Real

Annie

I couldn’t sleep last night and it had nothing to do with Guy’s couch—it’s actually extremely comfortable. It was the fact I was incapable of turning my mind off. All I could think about was Chase. That kiss. And what it will mean for us. Plus, I was so physically worked up, I actually contemplated…easing the tension myself on my step-brother’s couch. I couldn’t get past the awkwardness, so I ended up tossing and turning until the sun rose. I finally nodded off just in time for Guy to wake me while he banged around in the kitchen.