Claire

I’ve never cleaned a kitchen so slowly in my life.

I make a plate for Jaxon’s mom and cover it with foil before putting it in the oven—something I’ve done for my own father a million times. He’s a cardiologist and makes the sixty-mile commute to and from Chicago every day. With Bri either out with friends or at cheer practice, there weren’t a lot of family dinners for us growing up. It was mostly me, eating alone in my room, in front of an old movie.

Moving on, I start the dishes, listening to the sounds of Simon’s bath—the excited squeak of his voice. The low, answering murmur of Jaxon’s. They’re arguing because Simon thinks he’s entirely too old for supervised baths. Jaxon compromises by sitting in the hallway outside the door.

There are dishes from this morning, plus what Simon and I used throughout the day. I do those too. Since they don’t have a dishwasher, I wash them by hand, moving slowly. Trying to draw this out as long as I can. Once the kitchen is cleaned, and everything is put away, I won’t have an excuse to stay.

When I agreed to stay, I texted Bri, telling her she would have to find someone else to make an ice run, that I’d been invited to stay for dinner. Her answering text was an entire screen filled with eggplant emojis.

“I didn’t ask you to stay for dinner so you could do the dishes,” Jaxon says behind me. I didn’t even hear him come downstairs. Something as big as Jaxon Bennett should not be allowed to move so quietly.

“Technically, you didn’t ask me to stay for dinner,” I say while running a newly washed plate under the stream of hot water from the tap. “Simon did.”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, I feel his hands slide around my waist, turning me toward him. “You would’ve said no if I’d asked,” he tells me. Lifting me like I weigh next to nothing, he sets me down on the counter next to the sink. “To get what I want, I’ll take my help where I can get it.” He takes the dishcloth out of my hand and steps in front of the sink. “Was your sister mad when you told her you were staying?”

I think about the screen full of eggplant emojis she sent me and nearly tip over into the sink. “No. She knows that parties aren’t my thing—if I weren’t here, I’d be in my room, hiding.”

He gives me a smile. The smile. The one that says he understands exactly what I'm saying. “What is your thing?” He runs a glass under the tap and sets it in the drainer.

I shrug. “I don’t really have a thing—unless you count hanging out with Simon.”

“Hanging out? You say it like it’s fun or something.” He looks at me, still towering over me even though I’m sitting on the counter.

“It is fun,” I say, tilting my head a little. “I like Simon.”

He shuts off the water and stares at the sink for a moment before he looks at me. “Is that the only reason you’re here? To hang out with Simon?”

I feel a flush sweep across the back of my neck. “I like Simon,” I say, repeating myself like a dummy. “I like your mom and—”

“You like me.” He has a strange way of asking questions that aren’t really questions.

I nod. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. There’s no use in denying it or playing dumb. He heard Bri on the phone earlier. I know he did. Better just to admit it and move on. “But my feelings for you have nothing to do with the way I feel about Simon. I'd still be—”

Before I can finish my sentence, Jaxon moves. Slipping into the space between my legs, his hands move lower to rest on my hips, pulling me even closer, until I can feel the press of him widen the juncture of my thighs. “You have feelings.” His face is inches from mine, his mouth hovering so close I can smell the minty tinge of toothpaste.

I nod. “You brushed your teeth.” I don’t know why but knowing that tips me over the edge. Suddenly, my heart is going crazy, flopping and twisting in my chest. Knocking the breath out of my lungs every time it beats.

The corner of his mouth kicks up in a crooked smile. “I believe in being prepared for all possible contingencies.”

“What contingency is this?” I’m not sure how I’m still conscious, let alone speaking in complete sentences.

His fingers dig into my hips, the press of them hard, almost urgent, at total odds with the easy-going smile on his face. “The I’ve been thinking about kissing you all night contingency.”

“Oh...” I breathe the word, and it comes out shaky. Sounds far away. “Is it because of what Bri said?” Not that I care. He could be kissing me in order to save the world from imminent destruction, and I would’ve been on board with it. Anything that gets his mouth on mine gets a thumbs up in my book.

“No.” He leans in, and my eyes slip closed, just before I feel the press of his lips against the line of my jaw. “I pretty much think about kissing you all the time.”

“You do?” Is this a dream? Am I sleeping? If I am, don’t wake me up. Ever.

“Uh huh.” His mouth moves along the curve of my jaw before moving on to my neck. “Ever since the night I found you sleeping in my bed.” His teeth nip against the tendons in my neck. “Now I can’t even lie down in it without thinking about what it would be like to fuck you,” he whispers in my ear before taking my lobe between his teeth.

Ohmygod.

“I like old movies,” I say softly as a shiver shoots through me, racking my body from head to toe.

“Movies?” I feel his mouth curve into a smile against the soft spot behind my ear while the hand on my hip moves upward, slipping under the hem of my T-shirt. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

“You asked me what I was into...” The last word is pushed out on a shuddering breath as I feel his fingers skim along my ribcage. “Movies. I like movies.”

“Mmm…” His voice hums along my skin, a low-level electrical current that buzzes across my skin, leaves me rattled. “I did ask that, didn’t I?” he says, his fingertips following the curve of my breast.

“Yes...” My nipple harden beneath his touch, straining against the cup of my bra. I push myself into his hand, loving the way my breast fits perfectly into his palm, the heat of it making the tip of it tingle.

The hand still on my hip digs in, pulling me closer. “I like hearing you say that.” His hand slips around to cradle my ass, tucking me against him. He flexes his hips, grazing my throbbing center with the rigid length of his cock. “Say it again.”

“Oh...” My hands, planted on the counter to keep myself steady, come up to fist themselves in his T-shirt. My knees tighten against his hips, heels digging into his ass. “Yes.” I have no idea what I’m saying yes to, and I don’t care. All I know is I don’t want this to end. I need him to keep touching me.

He groans against my neck, his hard cock rocking against the center seam of my jeans, grinding it against my pussy while he jerks the cup of my bra down, freeing my breast.

“Jaxon...” I whimper his name softly, tipping my head back while his mouth works its way back to mine, his hips still working and flexing between my legs, each stroke of his cock pressing deeper. Pushing me closer. I can feel the pressure building. My core melting, the heat of it spreading like wildfire. I’m about to come. Just like this, with nothing but the promise of him between my legs and his mouth on my neck. I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so far gone. “Jaxon, I’m—”

I hear a car door slam, followed by the chirp of a car alarm. Footsteps crunching across their gravel drive. The rhythm of his hips falters at the sounds.

“Shit.” Jaxon lifts his head, eyes narrowing on my face before bouncing up to look at the clock above the sink. “She’s early.” The hand under my shirt fixes my bra, moving it back into place before slipping out to resettle on my hip.

His mom.

“Oh, god...” The thought is like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, freezing me in place even as my face goes up in flames. She trusted me to watch Simon and here I am, practically fucking his older brother on her kitchen counter. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop,” he says, shaking his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He leans into me, even as I hear his mom’s footsteps on the front porch. “Neither of us did.” He kisses me on the mouth, a soft, lingering press of lips that instantly start to pull me under. “We’re both adults, remember?” He pulls back again, looking me right in the eye.

For a second, I’m not sure which one of us he’s trying to convince. Finally, I nod my head. “Yes.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, half groan, half growl, the hands on my hips tightening before pulling me off the counter and setting me on my feet. “You should leave.”

“Now?” Usually, if I’m still here when his mom gets home, I stick around long enough to fill her in on Simon’s day.

“Now. Before I stop caring about what she walks in on,” Jaxon says, turning me toward the back door, just as the rattle of keys signal the opening of the front.

Before my sneakers hit the top step of the stoop, Jaxon snags me by my arm and stops me, turns me toward him. Pulls me against him. He kisses me, his mouth hitting mine with the force of a punch, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with mine, so hot and urgent that I moan, the hum of it buzzing against my lips.

With a groan, he tears himself away from me. “Your dad’s out of town.”

It’s another non-question question. I nod, my heart in my throat. I hear his mother in the foyer, dropping her keys into the basket. Going through the mail.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just lets me go. He doesn’t ask if he can come over. He doesn’t say he’ll call or text.

Seconds later, I’m sitting in my car, across the street, trying to get my keys in the ignition. My whole body is on fire. Throbbing. I look up and out the passenger-side window.

Jaxon is standing on the back stoop, arms folded across his massive chest. He’s watching to make sure I get my car started. That I’m safe. Seeing him standing there, same as always, makes me wonder if I imagined it all.