The elevator opens on my floor, my dark loft coming into view but when I step toward it, Bowen doesn’t follow, so I turn to face him instead. “You’re jealous?”
“No,” he replies quickly. His eyes, with those flecks of golden amber, can’t seem to find my own. He’s looking over my shoulder, at the elevator wall, the floor. And then, in a rough whisper he says, “Maybe. And I don’t do jealous, so I don’t like how this feels.”
I reach out and cup the back of his head, leaning forward to brush our lips together. He leans closer but I pull back. “I’ve always been honest with you. Just like I was honest with Bennie. He was a one-time thing. You’re more.”
I step right up into his space. He doesn’t move or flinch, not even when my hands slip under the hem of his dark T-shirt and my fingertips ghost across the waistband of his jeans. My fingers grasp the bottom of his shirt and in one fluid motion I slide it up as he lifts his arms to allow me to pull it right off him. I throw it in the general direction of the loft behind me. I move to kiss him. His mouth is already slightly parted, his tongue slipping out onto his bottom lip, eager to meet with mine. I feel the need to taste him – his mouth, his tongue, his everything – so deeply it makes my balls ache. His hands grab my face and I bury my fingers in his hair and press my hips to his, our cocks glancing off each other.
He pushes me backwards, into the loft just as the elevator doors try to shut. They bounce back open and we go tumbling into the hall, tripping over each other’s feet. I end up on my back on the smooth concrete, Bowen on top of me. Neither of us broke the kiss, and we keep kissing until we’ve got my jacket and shirt off and both our pants and underwear are at our ankles. Only then, do our lips find other places to explore.
14
BOWEN
I wake up the next morning to an empty bed. Once again, I slept like the dead. It was amazing. I woke only once to use the bathroom in the wee hours of the morning. I considered leaving. I should have left, but when I walked back into the bedroom, Chase’s lips were parted in a sleepy smile and he had the sexiest bed head and he murmured, “Stay.” He held back the duvet for me to climb back in and I lost any and all willpower right then. I’ve never been able to cuddle. Trevor was so worried someone would know we were more than friends, he never let me stay in his dorm room, even though he had a single room. And since my parents died, until Chase, I’ve always had trouble sleeping. So even on the odd occasion my hook-up and I drifted off to sleep together, it never lasted more than a couple hours and then I was wide awake with no chance of drifting off again, so I’d leave.
But after crawling back into Chase’s bed and curling into his naked form, I fell asleep again without issue. What wakes me up now is my phone ringing. The ring tone is a Stevie Nicks tune — "Edge of Seventeen"— which is specifically for Autumn. I grab my phone off the bedside table, where I had the sense to put it last night after round one, before round two. It hits me as soon as I see her number on the screen I forgot to update her on my whereabouts. So I answer the call with a blunt, “I’m alive.”
“Bowen, why didn’t you text? Call? Anything?” Autumn’s voice is filled with relief but also sharp with anger. “We have rules! Youknowwhy.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just fell dead asleep,” I say and immediately regret my choice of words. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I turn and realize I’m not alone. Chase is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, in shorts and a T-shirt with a toothbrush in his mouth, and damn, he looks good. “We never break this rule Bo! Never. You’re the first! It’s not okay!” Autumn has a way of getting really upset about shit she cannot change. I hate that. I always accept things for what they are. “You can’t just break that rule. It exists for a reason.”
“I did it. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” I promise firmly.
“When I woke up and Woody said you weren’t home…” Her voice wobbles deeply on the last word and my heart thumps heavily with guilt.
“I stayed with a… friend,” I say and Chase raises both eyebrows but turns and heads back into his bathroom. “I’m good.”
“Since when do you sleep well? Let alone well somewhere that isn’t your bed?” Autumn wants to know. I can visualize her brows pinched together like they get when she’s totally confused.
“Since now,” I reply, hoping the annoyed tone in my voice cuts this interrogation short. “I’ll be home later, in time to help with whatever you need to make this event happen.”
“Okay fine. I’ll grill you then,” Autumn says, and I roll my eyes. “And do not do this again. I don’t care how good the sex is.”
The line goes dead and I almost smile. Chase appears in the doorway again, still looking casually gorgeous. I must look like a troll that’s been woken up from his sleep under a bridge. Self-consciously I run a hand through my hair and it promptly gets stuck in tangles. “She’s a real gate keeper about where you are, huh?”
I nod. “We all have to check in if we’re not coming home or we’re going to be late.”
He seems puzzled by that and so I guess we’re starting this morning on a sad note. “My parents lay in that car for hours because we didn’t think to worry.”
“What?”
“They called home when they left the Christmas market they’d attended in New Hampshire. Told us they’d be home in a little over an hour, in time for dinner,” I explain, and I hate talking about this. I haven’t, with anyone really, except my siblings. We spent months after they first died blaming each other and ourselves. “When they didn’t show up for dinner, we just assumed they stopped somewhere. We didn’t call the cops or highway patrol. We ordered pizza and then Autumn convinced me to watch a movie instead of studying and Woody went out to meet up with friends. It wasn’t until like midnight that we thought, maybe we should try their cell phones. And when they didn’t answer those, we called Woody who called the police. So, we promised each other to always check in. Always. And I fucked up last night and didn’t.”
He looks stricken, which is to be expected but it still makes me uncomfortable. It was the worst night of my entire life, and I don’t like thinking about it let alone talking about it. Or seeing his handsome face washed in sympathy. I turn away from him and start grabbing my clothes. “Relax. You don’t have to run out of here now that she knows you’re okay, right?”
“I guess not. But you look like you’re going somewhere,” I mutter pulling on my shirt and then reaching for my pants. “I should get out of your hair.”
I tug my underwear over my ass and as I straighten, his hand lands on my shoulder. He gives it a gentle squeeze. “Bowen, I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“About making you talk about that,” Chase replies softly. “I should have figured out why you guys are so anal about checking in. I know what happened. But you guys have to realize that you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s normal not to freak out about your parents being late.”
I nod. Our family therapist told us the same thing but none of us cared and still don’t. Woody, Autumn, and I will hold that mistake deep in our heart until they stop beating. He, thankfully, changes the subject. “What event are you working on?”
“Woody is having a cocktail thing at the farm. A campaign fundraiser,” I explain. “You’ll get the invite because you’re on the city thingy.”
