Let’s Not Be Weird Anymore
IT’S BEEN THREE WEEKS SINCE I pulled my best friend into my lap and kissed her like she should always be kissed. Hard. Passionate. With all the intensity in the world.
It was the best kiss of my life.
Sexy as fuck. Sweet. Perfect.
But it was also a royal mistake. Things went from normal to…weird. Reagan went from spending every free moment with me to throwing herself into her and Chase’s relationship. Of course, I didn’t help matters. When I woke up the next morning, my head pounding from a hangover and my heart pounding with regret, I bailed without so much as a goodbye. Aside from the occasional text, I haven’t spoken to her and it’s driving me fucking crazy.
I’ve had too much time on my hands.
Time, for me, is never a good thing.
Time has always gotten me into trouble.
“Oof!”
Which is exactly why I’m tied to a chair getting my ass kicked by a wannabe thug who should have never trusted me with two grand and a sketchy errand.
“Where’s my money, asshole?” the loser demands, his chest heaving with exertion. Maybe if he ever left his mom’s basement, he wouldn’t be so winded over an old-fashioned ass kicking. I mean, I’m not even able to fight back for fuck’s sake.
“I lost it,” I lie.
When I grin, blood coating my teeth, he screams at me. “You need to fucking find it!”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I let my smile fall away. “Untie me, and I’ll go have a look-see.”
“You’ll bolt,” he snaps. “I’m not stupid.”
But he is stupid. He gave two thousand dollars to a tattooed punk he barely knew to go purchase some weed from a supplier. I’m a thief not a druggie. I’d have gotten away with it, too, but apparently this thug is social media savvy. And thanks to Reagan and her obsession with checking in everywhere on Facebook, I led this asshole right to the Dairy Queen I visit at least three times a week. You get a discount for checking in, Reagan said. It’ll save you money, she said. What she didn’t say was that it’d get me whacked over the head with a baseball bat and then dragged into some fucker’s basement to get my ass kicked.
“I’ll get you the money but I can’t do it from this chair,” I grumble, my words irritated. “It’s at my place.”
“The one at 2334 South Lyons Avenue?”
My body stiffens and I wonder how the fuck he knows where I’ve been staying. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, dude. Just let me out of here, and I’ll get you the cash.”
The guy, Larry or Lenny or whatever the hell his name is, glares at me. “I see you going in and out of there all the time. I see the geeky guy, too. Wouldn’t want to have to fuck him up to get my repayment. Kid looks like he’d break the first time I punched him.”
I suppress a growl. The “kid” is my mom’s best friend’s son, Keith. Keith is actually my age and was nice enough to give me a place to stay when I got back into town after spending eight months in New Jersey. The last thing I want is for him to get involved in my mess. “Man, just let me out. I’ll get you the damn cash by tomorrow.”
He stares at me for a long time before he works on untying me. “Don’t fuck me over again or you’re going to piss me off.”
Clenching my jaw, I give him a clipped nod before stalking out of his shitty house. How the hell do I end up in these situations?
Shame coils in the pit of my belly like a snake as I pound on Reagan’s door. Chase’s shiny sports car sits in the driveway, and I hope I’m not interrupting a boring fuck fest. On second thought, I’m hoping to rescue her from some snooze sex. Earlier, I confided in Keith that I’d gotten myself into a mess. He showed me his gun—which I may or may not have stared at in shock—and then proceeded to tell me he could take care of himself. He also told me I was no longer welcome.
I refuse to move back home with Mom and my stepdad Roger.
And my usual landing pad is no longer an option. Andie is no longer a single chick ready to take in her brother at a moment’s notice. She’s married and has a brand-new baby to deal with. I’m certainly not high on her list of priorities. Not that I’d ever make it past her fuckface husband anyway.
“Linc,” Reagan greets, shock lacing her voice. Her shoulder-length brown hair is slightly tousled and her lips are swollen. I interrupted something. “Did you get in a fight?”
I wince at her words because what happened earlier today was not a fair fight. It was an unfair beat down.
“Something like that.”
“Well, get in here,” she says. Worry flickers in her eyes. “Tell me what happened.”
She ushers me inside and my gaze falls to her ass. It always does. Reagan has one of those tight round asses you could bounce quarters off of. I should know because I’ve done it a couple of times, just to fuck with her. My dick still gets hard every time I think about our kiss—a kiss where my hands had the freedom to roam her perfect ass.
Chase sits on the sofa and tosses a look of irritation my way when he sees me. His hair is slightly disheveled. I still don’t know what she sees in that Dave-Franco-looking motherfucker. And I cannot stand the fact that he calls her Pet.
She’s not a fucking pet.
She’s…perfect.
“Name your poison,” she chirps as she starts rummaging around in the kitchen cabinets.
I drop my bag on the floor and saunter after her. Unable to stop myself, I mutter, “Fireball.”
Her back tenses momentarily, and with a shaky hand, she pulls out the half empty bottle. Looks just like the bottle we downed that night. I love the way her throat turns slightly pink as if she’s remembering.
“I think I’m going to head out,” Chase grumbles as he enters the kitchen. “This”—he waves at me—“looks like it may take a while. I’ll come by after work tomorrow. Maybe we can finish what we started.” He grips her by the elbow and she yelps in surprise. My fist clenches with the need to punch this asshole. “I love you, Pet,” he murmurs before giving her an obnoxiously wet kiss. My lip is still curled up in disgust when he throws a smug look my way—as if he’s the better man between us. He probably is. “Later, Lincoln.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes and simply offer him a head nod. Once he’s gone, I stride over to Reagan to pluck the bottle from her tiny hands. She keeps her grip on it and stares up at me with a frown.
“Tell me what happened.” Her brown eyes flicker with hidden emotion. I love the way her cute button nose flares with each breath she takes. And her mouth, Jesus, I’m such a fucking fan of her mouth. I’m fixated on how her bottom lip is slightly fuller than the other and pouts out. I remember just how good that bottom lip felt between my teeth, too. “Linc…”
I yank my beanie off my head and run my fingers through my messy hair. She’d wanted me to grow it out. So, of course, I fucking did. Now my dark, almost black hair, hangs in my eyes when I haven’t taken the time to style it. A small smile plays at her lips and she reaches forward to brush away a strand that’s flopped in front of my eye.
“I like this,” she says with a grin. “Looks good on you.”
I wink at her and steal the Fireball while she’s distracted. “I see Chase loves you now,” I blurt out, a little bitterly I might add.
Her smile falls and she huffs. “He does.”
I unscrew the cap and drink straight from the bottle. Fire engulfs my mouth and burns all the way down my esophagus until it reaches the pit of my belly. “Is the feeling mutual?”
“I don’t know.”
I laugh. “You’d know if it was.”
Our eyes meet for a heated moment. I’m sure she’s thinking about the same thing I am. The night I pulled her into my lap and kissed her like a man is supposed to kiss a woman. With his entire goddamned soul.
“Linc,” she sighs. “You’re avoiding the inevitable. Tell me who beat you up and why. Let me help you.”
My heart aches at her words. Let me help you. Maybe that’s why I connect so well with Reagan. She’s everything I’m not. And somehow, that makes me want to be better for her. She does help me. Anytime I’m in her presence, I feel on top of the world. Like I could do anything as long as it involved her.
“My buddy Keith and I got in a fight. He kicked my ass out.” Not technically a lie. It just wasn’t a fist fight. I don’t want her knowing all the shitty details of my life. Reagan is untainted, and I’d like to keep her that way.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyebrows pinched together in concern. “Do you need a place to stay? I have the guest room, you know?”
The thought of sleeping under the same roof as her has my heart thumping hard in my chest. It would be my favorite solution but probably not the best one. “I can call Andie and—”
She snorts and steals the bottle. “We both know Roman would not let you move in. Even temporarily. You know what a dick he can be.” The bottle tilts up as she takes a swig. I find myself staring at her slender throat as she swallows down the liquor.
I step closer to her. Before the whole kiss screwed up our easy friendship, I touched her a lot. Purely platonic. So I told myself. My fingertips crave to touch her hair or to tickle her ribs. For now, I settle for invading her personal space.
“You really mean it?” I ask when she hands me back the bottle. I’m glad when she doesn’t move away from my nearness.
“Of course I mean it. You’re my best friend. Even if things were a little weird for a while,” she assures me. “Speaking of weird. We should talk about the kiss. It was a mista—”
I cut her off before she says words that will cut deep. “It’s fine. An experiment. I was just showing you so you could teach Chase because we both know that boy needs lessons. We’re friends, Rey. Besides, it was like kissing my sister.” Hurt flashes in her eyes. Quickly, I continue because I want to wipe that look right off her face. “Thick as thieves, remember?” I flash her a crooked grin she’s not immune to and, thankfully, she caves.
“I remember,” she says, smiling beautifully at me. “I’m glad we had this talk. And I’m happy we’ll get to hang out all the time again.”
God, I’ve fucking missed her smiles.
“You going to wash my laundry too, Rey?” I waggle my eyebrows at her.
She laughs and swats at me, the tense moment gone. “No, Abraham.”
I arch a brow at her as I set the bottle on the counter. “Remember what I warned you I’d do if you called me that again?”
A squeal escapes her as she starts to bolt. I’m close enough and quicker. I easily toss her tiny ass body over my shoulder and haul her into the living room. She screams at me the whole way.
“Let me go!”
“Nope.”
“Yesss!”
“Ain’t happening, sweetheart.”
I throw her on the couch and pounce before she can get away. She weighs hardly anything, so I overpower her within seconds and pin her wrists to the cushions with one hand as I straddle her thighs. Her entire body trembles and squirms.
“I’m sorry,” she pants, her eyes frantic. “Do not freaking tickle me.”
I smirk before digging my fingers into her most ticklish place. Her ribs. The laughter that comes out of her is fucking adorable. I tickle her until tears stream from her eyes and she’s uttering curse words I’ve never heard leave her mouth before.
“Stoooop,” she screeches.
Grinning, I slow my movements. “Like this?”
Her eyes are filled with heat when they meet mine. My fingers are no longer tickling her but stroking her instead. When my thumb grazes along the sliver of flesh that’s visible between her shirt and the waistline of her yoga pants, she shudders.
“Does that tickle?” I ask, my voice husky.
A whine escapes her as she lies. “Y-Yes.”
My cock is hard in my jeans, but she’s not looking there. Right now, her eyes are locked on mine. So many words flash in her gaze. I wish I knew how to make them escape.
“I missed you,” I blurt out, my tone sad.
She swallows and nods. “I missed you too.”
“Let’s not be weird anymore,” I tell her, my fingers slipping under her shirt slightly. Her gasp makes my dick throb. “Let’s just be us again. Reagan and Linc.”
Her eyes flutter closed when my fingers dare slide farther under her shirt. My longest finger grazes along the underwire of her bra.
“Linc,” she breathes out. “We can’t do this.”
My hand trails back south, away from her breasts. “Why not?”
“I have a boyfriend.” She reopens her eyes and sadness flickers in her gaze. “Please. Just don’t. I can’t…I can’t…”
Releasing her hands, I pull away from her and sit at the end of the couch. She sits up on her elbows and her lashes bat against her cheeks before she lifts her eyes up to meet mine. Now that we’re no longer separated because of the stupid kiss, all I want to do is touch her. I fucking missed her.
Running my thumb along the bottom of her bare foot, I take a moment to enjoy having her again—even if it’s only like this. “Want to watch a movie? I kind of miss all those lame chick flicks you made me watch. Three weeks is a long time to watch fucking football.”
A giggle escapes her as she climbs off the couch to go put on a movie. Once it’s started, she grabs a blanket and settles on the sofa with her head in my lap so she can see the television.
I can’t help but stroke her hair. That’s platonic, right? She seems to think so because she lets out a contended sigh. This close, I can smell her hair. She smells sweet. Whatever shampoo she uses is my favorite.
“I’m sorry you fought with your friend,” she murmurs. Her head tilts up and our faces are just inches apart. I could lean down and kiss her. Right now, I could claim her beautiful mouth. Instead, I shrug and look away before I do something idiotic, like make out with her again.
“It’s fine. I’ll sort out my shit and be out of your hair,” I tell her, my voice gruff.
Her palm reaches up and touches my face in a soothing manner. “Don’t rush. I kind of missed you being in my hair.”
We both chuckle, and the tension seems to seep away. Soon, her breathing evens out as she falls asleep. I slide my palm down her shoulder over her shirt and graze my fingers against the bare skin above her elbow. Her skin is soft, and I want all of it pressed against mine.
But I’m not about to fuck this up again.
With a groan, I lean my head back against the sofa and close my eyes. Chilling here with her in my arms is perfection. Nothing whatsoever feels wrong about it.
Is it possible to be madly in love with your best friend?
I’m pretty sure I am.
And I don’t know what to fucking do about it.