Instead of replying, I smirk and dig my thumbs into the tightest knot I can find, applying pressure until she bites her lipand groans. The sound is so sexual, I have to hold back a moan of my own.
Her breathing turns shallow, her hands gripping her knees as I work down toward her lower back. Each new inch of skin is a test of my resolve, and I’m losing fast. In a parallel universe, maybe I’d lean forward and kiss the honey from her skin, confess everything I’ve ever felt, damn the consequences. In this one, I keep it together while I press my palm into the small of her back, anchoring us both to the moment.
My fingers slip under the hem of her shirt, pleased when she doesn’t tell me to stop. I rub slow circles into her lower back, feeling her melt under the attention.
Goose bumps chase my hands, and when she shivers and shifts, her hand grazes my dick, and she freezes.
A tiny gasp of air is the only sound between us, and I’m so caught up in the feel of her hand pressed against me, I’m not sure if it came from her or me.
Seconds stretch as I remind myself to breathe.
She hasn’t moved her hand yet. WHY HASN’T SHE MOVED HER HAND YET?
“Sorry,” I mutter under my breath, unsure of what the proper etiquette is when your best friend discovers she gave you a boner.
She turns her face, staring up at me with those wide indigo eyes. “You have a . . .” Her throat bobs, her words trailing off.
“I’m hard,” I finish for her, struggling to get the words out.
Her breathing hitches, her gaze dropping to my mouth before she jerks back as if the revelation of what’s happening just sank in.
“Oh my gosh!” She covers her mouth with her hands, her skin flushing to a deep shade of scarlet beneath the dried mask, as she mumbles, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean . . .”
Shaking her head, she jumps up from her spot on the sofa, taking the heat of her body with her as she sprints for the bathroom and slams the door behind her with a resounding thud.
Chapter 12
TATUM
Ipress my back into the cool, hard surface of the door while my shallow breaths match the erratic pace of my heart. Reaching a hand up to my chest, I rub my sternum as if the gesture can somehow ease the stampede beneath my ribs, because holy hell, my best friend just had a boner. Caused by me. After giving me the best freaking massage of my life.
But what’s more concerning than my friend’s dick is my reaction to it. Because now that the initial shock has worn off, all I can think of is the moment my hand made contact with him and how badly I wanted to touch him. To slide my hand beneath the waistband?
Lalalalala.
I plug my ears as if it can silence my inner thoughts.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Needing to do something to take my mind off what transpired, I push off the door and move to the sink where I turn on the faucet, letting the water grow warm before frantically scrubbing the dried mask from my face.
You have a boyfriend.
You have a boyfriend.
You have a boyfriend.
No matter how many times I remind myself, it’s no use against the image of Brandon dancing in my head?those soulful blue eyes, his rumpled sandy hair, and the more than generous tent in his pants that will forever be seared into my brain.
I close my eyes, willing myself to focus on Ethan. Handsome, smart, driven Ethan.
A charming man who loves you. Who wants you so much, he dropped his plans with his buddies to rescue you on the side of the road, then spent the entire weekend with you. One who missed you so much, he wants you to transfer to be near him because he can’t stand the thought of going another semester without seeing you every single day. A man who sees a future with you. One you were intimate with less than forty-eight hours ago.
I gnaw my lower lip as guilt wriggles low in my belly.
I’m acting like a psycho.
My thoughts drift to Brandon?my best friend?and I wonder what he’s thinking about my low-key freak-out. First, I groped him. Then I ran away like a scaredmiddle schooler.
