Four years earlier…
THE SILENCE IN THE ROOM is deafening, giving free rein to the punishing thoughts swirling in my head.
Picture frames are aligned on top of the brick fireplace mantle. Vague images of Mason, Katherine, Averie, and Amelia stare back.
Happy times for the happy family.
In most shots, the girls are standing together. Amelia is either giving her shy smile or one so proper it’s painful to admire. Averie is also smiling in them, but not the smile I know. Not the carefree or chastising grin she lets loose when we’re alone. Her smile in these pictures is forced.
But Katherine and Mason. Fuck, they’re so happy.
And tonight, more happiness for this family arrived.
When I left the hospital an hour ago, everyone was crowded inside a small, clinical recovery room. Those proudly in attendance were cooing over the newest family addition.
Kaiden Gray Cole. Nine pounds and eight ounces. At nearly twenty-five inches long, he’s already proven himself a big boy. Just like his daddy.
Katherine was glowing, happily content to watch Mason hold his new son, sniff his head, and caress his tiny hands. Thankfully, there were no complications and Kaiden arrived exactly when expected.
Katherine hadn’t had the easiest pregnancy. When Averie or Mason would update me, they’d explain how miserable she’d been and how the symptoms of morning sickness stayed with her for months after they should’ve passed. They also said she outright blamed Mason, because what son of his wouldn’t wreak such havoc on a woman’s body.
Amelia stood at Mason’s side, cherishing the first moments in meeting her little brother.
Katherine’s best friend, Connie, and her husband, Charles, stood with Katherine’s dad, David, looking over the group with pride.
I stayed just long enough to serve my family duty.
I’d planned to visit longer, a week or so to help greet the new addition home.
More than anything, I wanted to spend time with Averie. Our paths have grown distant. We’re both busy, not having as much time for calls as we used to. I hate it. I miss her. I also hate the fact I miss her as much as I do.
However, since starting my own marketing firm, I’ve been given notice of a shitstorm brewing back in California. I’ll be leaving in the morning to aid in fixing whatever’s broken. Because of this, I had no desire to be around anyone.
Averie must have gotten to the hospital from work soon after I left.
Instead of calling her when I got in, as I’m sure she expected me to do, I left the hospital alone. I stopped at the liquor store for a bottle of whiskey. After the text came through, demanding my presence at home, I’d decided being drunk would pass the time in a way that’s starting to become familiar.
“Jaxson?” a voice calls as the front door opens.
And there she is.
“What’re you doin’ here?” I question, not offering her a glance. Instead, I bring the tumbler of mind-numbing liquid to my lips.
“Are you okay?” she asks from across the room.
Not answering, I down the rest of the drink, clenching my jaw to bite back the burn.
The room isn’t spinning as I’d hoped it would by now. I haven’t been left alone long enough.
“I’m fine, Averie,” I return.
“When did you get in?” she asks first, immediately following with, “And why are you not with everyone else?”
I hadn’t bothered to flip the lights on when I used Mason’s key to let myself in the cabin. I could’ve gone back to the hotel. However, that would’ve afforded too much time alone to think.
And I wanted to see her.
Finally giving in, I catch a glimpse of Averie in the moon’s light. Taking the time to get a closer look, I blink and do it slowly.
Averie Dyer has always been pretty. Even as a kid, she’d caught my attention in a way I knew was fucked, being she was so young. But over the course of years, she’s surpassed pretty. Time and maturity has branded her undeniably gorgeous.
My fucking luck.
Her long blonde hair spills in waves down her shoulders. Her tanned, toned legs shine under her short white dress. Her fucking chest…Christ, but she’s been blessed, moves up and down with each anticipated breath.
“How’s Marcus?” I hiss, wrapping my fingers around my glass and wishing the world would hand me a break.
Just once.
“Marcus?” she mimics.
“Boyfriend,” I return to clarify. “The latest fuck you brought home to meet the family.”
I wasn’t here when Mason met the tatted up, grown man who brought Averie home on the back of his Harley. I only heard from Mason how his head nearly split in two the day he did.
After what’s happened with all her ‘boyfriends’ once I catch wind of them, Averie hadn’t mentioned his name to me. In all our recent conversations, never did she talk about seeing anyone specifically. Whether she knew I’d be annoyed, or whether she decided her love life wasn’t my business, I don’t know. I only know that over the course of the last two years, she’s been keeping a part of herself from me.
And I fucking hate that she does.
Giving off a one-syllable laugh, Averie steps further inside and closes the door behind her. Thankfully, she doesn’t make a move to turn on the lights.
She drops her bag on the couch, directly across from the chair I sit in, and runs her hands over her long hair, holding the heap of it at the top of her head.
Fuck, her neck is tempting to touch. My hand itches to wrap around it, pinning her in place until I’ve finished fucking her mouth with my own.
Shit. Fuck. Hell. Maybe I am drunk.
“Marcus isn’t my boyfriend,” she explains, taking a seat and crossing her legs. “He used to be but I dumped him.”
“You ran from him, you mean,” I sneer.
“No. I only run from you,” she jabs back jovially.
The accuracy in her admission forces a grin. Fact is, she does run from me. In some ways, she always has. Anytime a conversation gets heated, or turns to those we talk about outside our circle of family and friends, she turns away.
Smiling, I lay my head back on the chair and ask, “You ever let Marcus kiss you?”
Averie’s smile falls. “No. I told you. We’re friends.”
“You let any boy kiss you?”
“Jaxson,” she punishes softly.
“That’s a yes,” I reply to myself. Sitting up and pouring another drink, I ask, “Why’re you here?”
She doesn’t answer. I wait another second and she still doesn’t answer. When I sit back in my chair, I look across the space between us to find her eyes narrowing. She’s looking at me, but not the same as she’s looked before. Not as the friend to her I’ve always been. Definitely not as the cousin by marriage. Her lips are parted and she’s gripping the side of her chair.
God, she’s beautiful.
I’d ruin that beauty with the state I’m in. If I didn’t ruin it, I’d do all I could to try. My thoughts of Averie haven’t been pure in nature since…Fuck, who knows. Doesn’t matter.
She’s insane with antics. Her enthusiasm in driving me mad to the point of frustration would undo me. I wouldn’t survive her. I’m a man. That’s not easy to admit.
Averie pulls her studious gaze away and glances up as the the grandfather clock chimes in warning. Seven o’clock. Someone should be home soon.
“Jaxson?” she calls quietly.
“I’m right here, lady.”
Averie stands, dropping her arms to her sides. Holding posture, she walks to me in careful steps. Nearly drunk with whiskey or not, my cock pulses harder the closer to me she comes.
“What are you doing?” I question, tilting my head further the closer she gets.
Averie kneels at my feet, but doesn’t make a move to touch. Her eyes traverse my position. My chest, my arms, then my hand as it clutches the drink. She reaches up, grabs the glass, but still denies contact.
Placing the tumbler to the floor near my feet, she whispers, “I understand, you know.”
As I lean up, I assume she’ll back off. She doesn’t. Instead, she holds fast, her face merely inches from mine.
“Oh, yeah?” I press. “You understand what?”
“How you feel.”
Curious, I prod, “That so? And how do I feel?”
“Like you don’t have a place among them.”
“Among who?”
“Everyone.”
Christ.
Closing my eyes, I curse in my head. Cursing the day I was born. Cursing the decisions my mother made growing up. Cursing the choices I made doing the same. Cursing the path of career I’ve put myself on. Cursing Averie for finally being the woman I’ve always needed her to be. And for her not allowing me to hide the destructive man I’m becoming.
Taking a breath and opening my eyes, I lie, “You’re wrong.”
Averie’s head tilts to the side. Like Mason, she reads into things she shouldn’t. “Maybe I am. But in case I’m not, you should know you’re not alone.”
What the fuck is she playing at?
Going on, she claims, “You want to understand them.”
“I understand enough just fine.”
Ignoring my defense, she presses, “And you want them to understand you.”
I don’t need my head examined. Or fuck, maybe I do.
What I need, what I long for, is release. Nothing benches a man’s worry, even momentarily, like sinking himself into a beautiful woman, forgetting the rest of the world Averie speaks of exists.
Empty fucks with cold bodies and nameless faces don’t do this. Averie, however, could. Easily.
Averie’s always been around. Always at my side, following where I go. She stopped doing that a while ago though, didn’t she? Maybe I’ve fucked with her enough she’s finally called me quits.
Yet, here she is. No longer a girl, testing my patience at every turn. Now, Averie’s a woman, and she’s kneeling at my feet. In her way, she’s asking me to admit I understand why she is the way she is.
When I sit back, Averie places her hands on my thighs. The skin beneath my trousers burns at her touch. Just once, I want to know what her lips feel like. To let my fingertips roam the flesh of her neck, teasing its softness and testing its warmth. To get lost with someone who identifies with my isolation. Someone I trust, proving once and for all what I feel, what I’ve always felt, is universal.
Loneliness.
“Kiss me, Averie,” I demand.
She hesitates but presses, “What?”
“I said kiss me.”
She strangles a breath. First guess, I doubt she’ll do what I’ve told her. That instead, she’ll get up and run as she fucking should.
But Averie trusts me the same as she always has. The same as I trust her.
Crawling from the floor, she settles herself over my lap. The summer dress she’s wearing shifts easily to accommodate the spread of her thighs. The warmth of her center comes over my zipper and all that’s beneath. My cock pulses, and I close my eyes.
Averie places her hands on my shoulders, using them as balance to get comfortable. Once she is, I open my eyes to find hers roaming my face.
Using her finger, she sweeps the tip over my cheek. The lightness and care holds me in place.
“Kiss me,” I assert.
“I’ve never…” She pauses, watching her fingertip sweep over my chin. “We’ve never… I don’t know what you want.”
“I’ll show you,” I tell her.
“You’ll show me,” she whispers softly.
Christ.
Averie’s hips flex, rolling over my now hard cock. My hands brace to her waist, helping her to move, rougher, with more confidence and speed.
Leaning in, she brushes the side of my mouth with hers. Gently. Carefully. Seductively.
I slam my eyes shut, my fingers grasping her hips with added aggression.
Sitting straight, I bring our bodies flush together. Her chest against mine, her lips a breath away.
Her eyes widen and she swallows hard when my hand glides up her back, into her hair. Grasping tightly, I pull with more intensity than needed, forcing her head to the side.
Averie’s mouth falls open and I move in angrily to take it.
Her warm, wet tongue wraps with mine, dueling for control. A small cry breaks from her chest, echoing in my mouth as she attempts to pull back. But I don’t stop. I can’t. Settling my other hand at the nape of her neck. I hold her in place as I continue to devour.
Finally, the taste of her I’ve always wanted but never had.
When Averie tenses, I suspect she’s had enough and slow down to pull away. Nipping her bottom lip, I inhale her next breath and wait. We’re still settled close. Her eyes, no longer wide but hooded, wander over my face.
I’ve left her as breathless as she’s left me.
“You should go,” I tell her, struggling like hell with this decision.
Playing with the cuff of my dress shirt, she juts her hips and says, “I don’t want to go.”
“Averie,” I warn.
With my face in her neck, she sharply inhales as I sink my teeth in. My hand braces against her thigh, lifting her dress and exposing more of her to me.
“Jax,” she finally calls and I stop.
Averie pulls back, holding my face in her hands. Her thumb swipes my bottom lip, her gaze directed there. Her expression is telling. She’s coming to her senses. For us both.
“This would change—“ she starts in with doubt.
“Get up,” I clip, harsher than needed.
“Jax.”
Pushing her waist from my lap, I don’t look at her. I can’t. If I chance a glance into her eyes and saw anything but doubt, I’d give in.
But she doesn’t deserve this. Not now. Not like this. Not when I’m at my worst.
As Averie stands, she straightens her dress.
Bending to pick up my half empty glass from the floor, I leave her to it. I pour another and throw it back.
“Get out of here,” I demand.
“Jaxson, we don’t—” she starts; the hurt on her face is palpable but necessary.
“Leave this.”
Tonight, I can’t be her friend. Her confidant. I can’t be anything to anyone.
I need to be me. The person she described to exact precision. A person who wishes he understood people and how they live their lives in peace so easily. The man who wishes he too was understood.
She can’t be here when I do that.
“Walk away,” I tell her. “For me, just do that.”
Averie does as I’ve asked. Gathering herself, she makes her way to her bedroom, leaving me alone with the taste of her on my tongue. The feel of her skin against mine.
I’m overwhelmed with life.
I’m sinking in a career I’m not sure I want.
I’m lonelier than I’ve ever been before.
And I’m missing her more than ever.
As Averie reaches the mouth of the hallway, she grabs the wall and turns.
I study her and wait, still waging a war of keeping honor to my best friend or taking the chance she wants this for the right reasons.
“I miss you, Jax,” she says first, so certain her words are true. “You may not think anyone understands you, but I do. Whatever you’re thinking, just know that.”
Fucking hell. When Averie Dyer wants something, she’s relentless to get it. And now she’s content to ruin me.