“So brave,” I whispered, stroking a knuckle down her cheek. “So fucking brave and strong.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “You don’t see it yet, sweet cheeks, but you are, and I have every intention of making sure you see it in yourself too.”
And I would.
No matter if she wanted to stay just friends or more, I would be there for her.
Everyone deserved someone they could rely on while they healed and found their way through the darkest parts of their lives.
Or I guess, in this case, two someones.
10
JUNO
Iwas a fucking mess.
And the worst part was, I wasn’t even ahotmess. Maybe that made me a tragic train wreck everyone watched, knowing what would happen but couldn’t turn away from. That had to be why West still stood in front of me after I gave him a small peek at the damaged parts of me I was desperately attempting to heal from. There was no way he would stick around for any reason other than sheer macabre fascination.
Right?
Last night with him and Langston was one of the best nights I’d had since arriving in the tiny town. Which shocked the hell out of me, making me wonder if it was all just a dream. Of course, what happened in the supply closet was fantastic, but what came after was just as great. The three of us ate delicious food and had a few drinks. The easy conversations and cheek-hurting laughter, mixed with heated looks, made the night one I would never forget. After they had walked me to my door, staying rooted on the porch until I firmly secured the handle lock and deadbolt—and even then, I swore the handle twisted as ifone of them had tested it to make sure I actually did—I literally fell into bed but couldn’t sleep despite the exhaustion and late hour.
I’d lain there for hours, mind racing, contemplating the pros and cons of putting my heart back out there with West. There were so many caveats to consider, such as his best friend, who treated me like the enemy he didn’t trust as far as he could throw me, and potentially ruining my friendship with West. But the chemistry between the two of us—and Langston too, even if I didn’t want to admit it—was seventh-level-of-hell hot.
Of course, then my messed-up brain cut through the lust fog, bringing me back to the reality that it was just me feeling the connection and chemistry, that for them, it was normal, average, mundane. That was the real reason Langston stepped in. It had nothing to do with West’s injured hand and everything to do with me not being sexy enough or expressive enough to turn him on. That rang more true than actually believing they thought last night was as hot as I did.
“Juno.” I jumped at the volume of West’s voice, almost shouting in my face. “What the fuck was that?” he demanded.
I shrank back against the cabinets, wishing like hell I could disappear into them.
With a frustrated groan, West ripped the glasses off his face and rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you were just…” His dark eyes bored into me as if trying to read my thoughts. “Blank, stuck in your head, I guess, and I didn’t know how to pull you back to me.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” I apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean to zone out like some weirdo while we were talking. Sometimes I do that when I’m overthinking something, and I know it’s rude. I’m sorry?—”
“Fucking hell,” West grunted under his breath while situating the thick frames back on his too-handsome face. “I swear, if I find the asshole who messed with your head this much, I’ll….” He considered me for a second before smirking. “Tell Langston everything, and he’ll make sure they disappear.”
A soft, disbelieving huff brushed past my lips. “Right,” I scoffed. “He wouldn’t care.”
West’s full lips pressed together as he looked to the ceiling. “I swear, you two are equally blind and stubborn. But back to you zoning out. You don’t need to apologize for getting lost in your thoughts, sweet cheeks, but I would be honored if you would share those deep thoughts with me so you don’t have to figure out whatever it is alone.”
My lips curled in a stiff smile as I gave a dismissive wave. “You wouldn’t want to hear all that. It’s just me being me.”
Desperate to avoid his determination to unravel me further, I shifted along the counter to hop down, but West stepped between my spread thighs, sealing his body against the concrete top, pinning me in place.
“And that’s bad?” My lips parted, the wordyesready to slip off my tongue, but I snapped them shut at his disapproving expression. “Let me set something straight right now so you never have to question when we’re together. I always want to hear what you’re thinking, Juno. Always. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
“Okay.” That was all I could say, knowing there was no way I would ever feel comfortable verbalizing my circling thoughts. No man actually wanted to hear what was bothering a woman. Men only listened with fake interest and connection to lead to the real reason they pretended to care, which, in my experience, was always something sexual.
They listened during date night? Oh, then they should be rewarded with sex.
They stopped by the grocery store to pick up something he wanted? He should totally be rewarded with a blow job.
They planned a weekend getaway, so they should totally be rewarded every hour of that trip with sex, and if they weren’t, then they could pout and complain about how mistreated they were.
“You’re killing me, Juno.” It was the desperation in West’s voice that pulled me out of my head. “Please open up to me.”
“I need to go,” I whispered. “Please let me down.”
With a sorrow-filled expression, he stepped back enough for me to hop down and squeeze past him. With the needed cold distance between us, the earlier desire fog that had muddled my thoughts lifted. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I turned to him with a stiff smile.
