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I’m mesmerized by the way his muscles flex as he opens his dresser and pulls out a pair of athletic shorts and slides them on, which do nothing to hide the bulge between his legs—a bulge I want to taste and feel between my thighs more than anything right now.

God, this must be a fresh wave of hormones surging through my body tonight.

Easton moves toward the bed, picking up his pillow before heading toward the doorway.

“Wh—where are you going?”

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.”

“What?”

He glances back over his shoulder at me, and the look in his eyes nearly undoes me. Pain and regret swirl in those green eyes of his, and I want to fix it more than anything in this moment.

“Lennon, I need some space, and I think you need some too.”

He leaves the room and leaves me standing there, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now.

I may have started the argument, but Easton ended it.

You fucked up, Lennon.

You pushed him away.

Yeah, because if he never gets close enough to hold on to, I can’t lose him.

And if I do let myself have him, I’ll have something far too meaningful to lose.

Chapter 20

Easton

Fantasy Can Become a Reality

I’ve never liked quiet car rides, probably because I didn’t grow up with them. Anytime Mom, Owen, and I were in the car together, music was playing, we were engrossed in a game of I Spy or the license plate hunt, or Mom pointed out landmarks through the windows and shared whatever she’d learned about them from television.

The conversation was easy, natural, and a comfort I didn’t realize I needed—until now, that is.

Following Bruce and Ava into the mountains to the campsite has made this the longest car ride of my life. But my wife hasn’t said a word since she climbed into my truck.

I adjust my grip on the steering wheel as the Great Smokies close around us.

Garnet Valley is tucked into the mountain range, so I’m no stranger to the thick foliage and greenery. However, my camping experience is limited to Boy Scout trips when I was James’s age, so I’m not sure what to expect with so many adults—and so much alcohol—involved. Packing was already stressful before Lennon nearly ripped the door off my house when she barreled into the garage last night. I was only double-checking that we had everything we’d need for three nights in the woods, but after our fight, even the prospect of this trip feels more stressful. And the whole damn thing could have been avoided.

I still can’t believe my mom. Jesus Christ. She couldn’t have picked a better time to tell Lennon about prom night?

Would there have been a more ideal time than that, Easton?

Yeah, how about never, I think to myself.

But Lennon’s newfound knowledge explains why she seemed so off-kilter during dinner—and why our argument detonated later.

Fuck.

She was pissed, and rightfully so—but all I could think about was how sexy she looked glaring at me with that fiery gaze of hers. It made me hard as a fucking rock, which I’m sure she noticed when I changed in front of her.

Which makes our entire predicament even more fucked up.

My best-friend-turned-wife now knows the truth about why our friendship ended all those years ago, and all I can think about is fucking the anger right out of her and showing her how right we feel together.