Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
A few minutes later, Maeve emerges from the bathroom, looking flustered and undeniably sexy in a cami and sleep shorts, her makeup scrubbed off, her skin dewy, and her hair tugged back in a pink fluffy headband.
She winces. “You were supposed to be asleep.”
Well, that probably won’t happen anytime soon. I shove my messy emotions aside as I sit up in bed. “Why did you want me to be asleep?”
She blinks, then waves a hand at my boxer briefs. They’re white and covered in pink birds. “You’re just in your flamingo underwear,” she says, her voice breathy.
“Do my flamingos tempt you?” I ask jokingly, when what I really want to ask is do I tempt you, even though the evidence seems clear—see Exhibit O. But it’s such a foreign thought that she might feel the same way I do, especially when I’ve been wrestling with my own temptations on and off for the last two years.
She holds out her hands in surrender. “Clearly.”
“Would you like me to get a paper bag and wear that instead?”
“No. It’s just I feel…awkward,” she admits, coming over to the bed and flopping down. “This never happens,” she mumbles.
“Sharing a bed?”
“Yes, no, maybe. But also…” she groans, dragging a hand down her face, before muttering, “Coming quickly.”
Oh. Oh. Once again, I am king, and may I reign over the land of Maeve’s pleasure. “Why is that a problem?” I ask, fighting off a smug smile.
Her lips are twisted with anxiety. “It’s a problem because you’re my friend. You’re my brother’s friend. I sat on you and then…boom. It’s ridiculous and normally takes me, like, five supersize vibrators.”
That’s the highest praise in the universe. “You do know that’s a compliment?”
“But I said we needed rules,” she says, and her voice gets higher and higher as she berates herself. “I said we should set all these boundaries. I said only kissing, and then I sat on your lap, and one minute later, I was screaming in pleasure.”
And I’d like to reign over multiple orgasm kingdoms. “Maeve, that’s not true,” I say, gently correcting her.
“What part is a lie?” She sounds worried.
“It was only thirty seconds,” I say. And right now, giving in to the roulette wheel of red wasn’t a bad idea. It was a brilliant one.
She pulls a pillow over her eyes, mumbling, “I can never show my face again.”
“Why?”
“Because I will forever be Quick-Draw Maeve.”
“Can we make a T-shirt that says that? That would be great.”
She swats me with the pillow.
Somehow, that’s the best friendship sign ever—the swat. It’s a sign we can move past this…unexpected friendship benefit. Since we have to move on. Oh hell, do we have to. So I grab the pillow, set it down, and get out of bed, but before I reach the bathroom she calls out, “Um, do you want me to return the favor?”
With my hand on the doorknob, I snort-laugh. “Are you asking me to rut against you in my clothes and come in my pants?”
That earns me another pillow, this one thrown.
Deservedly so.
I toss it back to the bed and pad into the bathroom. But after I brush my teeth, wash my face, and return to bed, turning down the lights, I’m not thinking friendly thoughts at all. Not one bit.
I’m thinking how she felt when her body melted against me. I’m thinking about the way she moved like water when I ran my hands up her legs. I’m thinking about the soft, sweet shape of her mouth and the gasps she makes when I kiss her.
And I’m hearing her sounds in my head all over again.
I’m wide awake, lying next to her in bed, with enough space between us to fit a trunkful of complicated emotions and ten years of connections. I have no idea what to do with the fact that I’m a little wild for Maeve. That I’m a lot more into her than I’d realized. Sure, I’ve always known she was pretty. But for a long time, I was aware of that only on a logical level. Then at her brother’s wedding, logic slammed into me on the dance floor and waved a big cardboard sign saying, You’re into your best friend and it’s way more than logical, you idiot. But when the dance ended, I ignored that sign. Ignored the feelings, too, maybe hoping they’d go away. News flash: Looks like they didn’t leave. I’m not even sure they went dormant. I just let myself think they were gone. But now they’re back, stronger than before.
Trouble is, it’d still be a bad idea to act on these feelings. Or, really, to act on them again. Once can be excused. But twice is flirting with danger. And I don’t want to rock the boat. That is not my style. I hate problems that aren’t on the ice. I can’t stand trouble. I don’t need to invite it in my life. Even though my gut twists over the next words, I say them anyway, knowing it’s best to avoid danger: “I guess we should get annulled.”