ALLIE

Unfortunately, the drive to Jack’s apartment gives me time to think.

I’m driving my car, and Jack is following behind me on his motorcycle. The distance between us is already too far. I hate that he’s not here with me, close enough to hold my hand and tell me everything will work out.

Aside from the mysteriously disappearing note, doubt comes creeping in about where all this is going. It’s pretty clear we both want to be together night, but it doesn’t change the fact that Jack’s looking for jobs in Florida, and it doesn’t change the fact that his mother would kill me if I ever pushed things between Jack and I into romantic territory.

Normally, I don’t care much what our parents think. I’m an adult, and I have my own life. My own decisions, and in turn, the consequences of those choices.

Jack does, too, but he’s worked so hard to keep a relationship alive with his parents that it pains me to drive a wedge between them. All his life Jack has walked a delicate tightrope with his mother, and it would hurt to know I’m the only chink in the chain that holds their family together.

It’s not about the money. Jack has plenty of his own.

But the cost of his relationship with his mother is too high, and I’m not sure I can ask him to pay that price. Especially when I’m not convinced things will work out between us. What if Jack moves away? What if he decides I’m not good enough for him? What if we decide friends are better than the alternative, and we’ve ruined something for nothing?

My tires squeal as I park the car in a guest spot, and Jack slips his bike into its designated place.

Silently, we head toward the elevators and wait as Jack presses the call button. It arrives shortly thereafter, though the ride up seems to last a lifetime.

“I had a run-in with the cops for you,” Jack says, giving me a side-eye glance as we near the top. “And I didn’t throw away any note.”

“Why’d you throw rocks at my window, anyway?”

“I needed to talk to you. I called you a hundred times, and I knocked on your door. I could hear your phone ringing, so I figured you were avoiding me.” He hesitates. “I was desperate. I panicked.”

“What were you so desperate to tell me that was worth a ride to the police station?”

“That—” at this, the doors ding open.

We hesitate for a moment, and as much as I want to hear what comes next, we both exit and hurry down the hallway. I tap my foot in annoyance while Jack unlocks the door.

“Wait.” Jack turns to stare into my eyes. His expression is serious. “First things first: we’re scouring my room until we find that damn note.”

I nod, still leaning against the wall when the lock finally clicks open. With this challenge in place, Jack and I nearly tumble into his entryway, stumbling across the living room. Neither of us take our shoes off as we coolly try to speed-walk-race each other to the bedroom.

Jack beats me there. “Where’d you have the note? My side of the bed?”

“We don’t have sides of the bed,” I tell him. “We’ve never slept there together.”

Jack marches forward and points to the pillow on his side of the bed. “I sleep here. You sleep on the other side.”

“Yes,” I mumble, not sure why the thought of us having sides on the same bed is making me squirm. “It was on your side of the bed.”

Jack drops to his knees and peeks under the bed. He appears not to find anything, so he scoots lower, sticking his arm underneath to swipe against the floor.

I do the same thing, covering the desk, the bathroom, the nooks and crannies along the outskirts of the room. “Anything?”

Jack grunts back at me.

“Maybe I should check here, huh?” I move into the bathroom and give the trash can a light kick that pings sound across the room. “Are you sure you didn’t get rid of it?”

Jack stands, a brief flash of fury on his face as he dusts himself off. His hair is slightly mussed. He runs a hand through it, sending it all off-kilter, which is ridiculously sexy.

I don’t have time for Jack to be sexy now. I’m busy feeling annoyed at him, but the annoyance is fading as he watches me with such a piercing glare it’s as if he can see every inch of me through my clothes.

“Do you really think,” Jack begins, moving effortlessly across the room to trap me against the door frame of the bathroom. “That I would be crawling around the floor looking for a fucking sheet of paper if I’d crumpled it up and thrown it away?”

“Maybe—”

“That’s not an answer,” he growls. “What do you think, Allie? I’m telling you, there was no note.”

“Fine, Jack, I—” On the cusp of telling him that I believe him, I spot it. Poking out of his closet, the very tip of a life-jacket-orange slip of paper. Wriggling away from Jack, I yank it off the floor and study it or a long moment. The words there still send a flash of heat through me.

“You found it,” he says, leaning against the door frame. His expression is neutral, his eyes calculating. “Now do you believe me?”

“Jack, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care that you found the note. I care that you didn’t believe me. I would never pretend that something like this...” Jack moves across the room like lightning, gently pulling the slip from my hand. His eyes rake over it, and his back stiffens as he reads the question there. The train of thought he’s started lingers there, stalled, until he looks up.

“You would never...what?” I prompt, but he’s not looking amused.

Instead, he shakes his head. Carefully, he folds the note into quarters. His eyes come up, flick to mine, and as he leans toward me, I close my eyes.

But the hug I’m expecting never comes. Instead, he reaches over my head, and the sounds of shuffling draw me out of my waiting haze.

Without speaking, Jack removes the shoebox I’d made for his thirteenth birthday and brings it over to the bed. He pops it open and lays the note inside on top of hundreds of other notes, invitations, dumb poems, and birthday cards we’ve exchanged.

Still quiet, he closes the lid and returns the box to the closet where it belongs. In the time it has taken for him to do all this, I’ve had a moment to think, and I realize this time, I owe the apology.

“I’m sorry,” I admit. “I should’ve believed you.”

“You should’ve not run away. You should’ve said something about it this morning when I was trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

“I didn’t want to run away,” I add, feeling suddenly cheeky. “I was actually hoping to climb down the side of your building.”

“How could you ever think I’d ignore your invitation after the night we’d had?” Jack apparently doesn’t have time for humor, and his eyes darken. “All night at the hospital, I thought about you. I came home, took a shower—knowing you were in the other room—and thought about you the entire time. I climbed onto the couch to sleep, thinking of you until I’m not sure whether I was conscious or dreaming.”

“Jack—”

“If I had seen this...” He gestures toward the box, then stops himself. “The only reason I didn’t invite myself under the sheets is because you were sleeping. I wasn’t going to climb into bed without an invitation. We’ve been friends too long for me to push myself on you, Allie. But if I’d known you had asked...”

I clear my throat, surprising myself with the words that come next. “Well, now you know.”

“Now?”

I shouldn’t press him, but I can’t seem to help it. The thoughts of Mrs. Darcy have officially evacuated my mind, as does just about every other worry I’ve had over these past few weeks. The concept that Jack might move across the country has vanished entirely, and the only thing I can think of is the look of disappointment on Jack’s face and how I can make it disappear.

My lack of belief in his story must have hurt him deeper than I’d thought. Deeper, even, than the sting of rejection that had never existed. I never should’ve wondered how much Jack cared for me; it’s there, clear as day, written on his face. I’m sure it’s been there all along, had I ever cared to notice.

“Jack, I—”

He interrupts me as he crosses the room, closing the distance between us. His hands cradle my face as his lips find mine for a kiss that gives life to my hopes and quells my fears. His palms are sturdy and strong, and they don’t let me pull away from this, from everything, from us.

Even so, I have no intentions of pulling away this time, even if I could. He has me wrapped against him, pressed to the wall, his body one long, sturdy plank against mine. I hadn’t noticed before, but the shirt he’s wearing—a white button down to compliment his dark jeans—is so soft. So incredibly soft I can’t help but run my hands over the gentle material, down his sides, across his abs, and feel this glorious body that’s been dangled before me like a carrot for so long.

He eases his lips to mine, and then presses the kiss further, deeper, tasting of sweet spice and tender need. We’d never bothered to turn the light on; it’d been bright when we arrived, and the sun is now halfway down the horizon, a light orange hue masking us in an ethereal glow.

Jack lets out a groan as his hands finally slip to my hips. Remnants from last night bring out a flash of lust as he cups my ass, squeezes, and groans again.

I soak up his groan with a gasp of my own as he presses against me, long and hard through his jeans. My hands go to his waist and fumble with the belt. I haven’t had time to process what’s happening; all I know is what I need. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, logical or rash, a great idea or a horrible disaster.

“I need you, Allie. I need you more than anything.” Jack breathes against my neck, the heat sending goose bumps across my flesh. “I don’t care about the note. I should’ve climbed in bed last night.”

“Yes,” I tell him. “You should have.”

“I’m not making that same mistake tonight.”

I can’t speak. At that very moment he lifts me, pressing my back against the wall with enough force to rattle the artwork hanging in frames. My legs wrap around his waist as his fingers dig into my hips.

“Jack—” I murmur his name, and the rest of my sentence is cut off as he dives back into a kiss.

When he resurfaces, he hesitates for just a moment. “I have to warn you that tomorrow morning I’m flying to Florida. I wish I could have the day with you, and I hate to rush out, but I have a flight...”

“It’s fine, I have school,” I say quietly, easing my toes back to the floor as the realities of everyday life crash down. “Did you accept the new job?”

He looks offended. “I wouldn’t do that without talking to you.”

“I understand if you decide to take it,” I whisper, though my heart flutters, thumps, and sinks into my chest. “It’s a good opportunity, really.”

“Would you come with me?”

“I have a job I love here. School is just starting—”

“Then I wouldn’t take it.”

“You can’t put your life on hold for me! And I can’t drop everything here for you. We’re—we’re friends, Jack. People don’t uproot their lives for their best friends.”

“Come with me as my girlfriend.”

“There’s too much pressure if we do that. What if things don’t work out? I’ll have left everything behind.”

“What if everything goes right?” He pauses, brushing a stray strand of hair back from my face. “Do you know why I took the interview in the first place?”

“Because it’s a great opportunity?”

“It is,” he agrees. “But that’s not why. I accepted the interview because I didn’t think I could stay here much longer. There’s only one option here for me, and it’s to be with you. As long as I’m here, next to you, seeing you every day, I can’t be happy—won’t be happy—with anyone else. I’d realized that if you weren’t interested in me, I needed to separate myself some. Get away.”

“Funny,” I say dryly, thinking of the very similar advice that Aimee had given me. “You didn’t think to ask me out?”

“How? We’ve been friends for so long, and I heard...” He shakes his head. “I went to the school this morning and heard Aimee setting you up with someone else. I was going to explain everything. I’d been meaning to, but it had never seemed like the right time.”

“You followed me to the school?”

“I intended to drive to your apartment, but I saw your car parked there. I figured you were going to work for a few hours, so I thought I’d surprise you at your classroom. It, uh, wasn’t a good time, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Jack—”

“I hate that I overheard, but I can’t pretend I didn’t. I know things are complicated with that other teacher.”

“Hold on, what other teacher? Are you talking about Mr. Cooper?” I hold up a finger. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it does. He pointed to you and Aimee and asked if I was with you.”

“And you said...”

“I said no! We weren’t together. Because we weren’t together.”

“He wasn’t talking about me, Jack, he was talking about Aimee.”

“But—”

“He asked Aimee out later this morning. If you’d stuck around and listened, you’d have found out I declined the date she was trying to set me up on.” I shake my head. “I have never been interested in the math teacher. Not even a little bit. Aimee, however—she hasn’t stopped talking about him since she met him. It was obvious it was never about me.”

“So then, you’re not looking to date other people?”

“No! I mean, I’m not—er, I wasn’t. I don’t know. I wasn’t looking to date at all.”

“So, can we give this a go?”

“Give what a go?”

Jack leans forward, pressing his lips to mine and cutting off the last traces of my question. He’s melded against me for the longest of moments until eventually, he separates just enough to whisper against my skin. “Us.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” I hesitate as his lips move against mine, gentle, soft. My eyes close. “Let’s just see how things go.”

“Let me be clear,” he says. “It’s already too late to go back to how things were before—I want you badly, Allie, and not just for a night. Do you understand?”

I bite my lip, nod. I understand his meaning crystal clear. I just don’t know if what Jack wants is possible. We’re too far along to retreat, which I’m realizing is okay—because I want this as much as he does. He’s not only a friend to me, as I’ve thought for so long, he is everything I’ve desired and long for in a man, and I’ve been blind to it. However terrifying and exhilarating this path might be, he’s right about one thing: there’s one way forward, and I want to take it.

“Yes. I want to be with you, Jack,” I whisper back. “Now. I want you now.”

His eyes brighten. He nips at my lip, biting me gently there before swiveling around and carrying me to the bed. Taking his time, he lays me down and situates me before taking off his pants. Then he removes my shirt, one sleeve at a time, the anticipation dialing up to maximum intensity. When he pulls the tank top over my head, the sight of my breasts seems to stun him, holding him captive while the shirt falls forgotten to the floor. The pants follow shortly after.

Luckily, I have on a matching set of underthings—lacy black for the top, and a tiny thong on the bottom. Jack sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes rove over my skin. I feel as if I’m presented before him like dinner on a platter, and I’m delighted to see that he enjoys the view.

Not only the view, I realize, as he reaches for my panties and moves them aside with a brush of his hand. Dragging a finger along my entrance, he closes his eyes, savors it.

“Jack—”

His finger dips inside me, interrupting whatever I’d meant to say. Meanwhile, his thumb works small circles, warming me, driving me, desire spiking in my bloodstream as I reach for him.

He eases his hands from below, pausing with a wink, and I can tell he loves making me wait. Pushing me to ask, to beg, to cry for him.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his eyes roving down my torso, landing on my stomach, sweeping past my legs, before returning to my face. “All of you.”

“I’d say the same,” I tell him. “But it’s not fair; you’re still wearing a shirt.”

Jack’s shaken out of a momentary trance, and he launches into action. It’s in this moment that I see his fingers shake with the effort, and something breaks inside of me. Something sweet and compact, a lifelong snow globe of friendship that’s been shattered to something more.

Jack Darcy, the stoic, ever-confident surgeon, is shaking. I’ve never seen his fingers tremble until now, and it’s this tiny thing that sends little paper hearts bursting through my mind. I know with certainty that I’ve fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with Jack Darcy.

“Jack,” I whisper, easing to a sitting position. We’ve moved so fast already, and I’m not sure Jack’s thinking at all. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not fucking nervous.”

“Your hands.” With a touch soft as a feather, I land my fingers over his. They’re trembling. Shaking. “What’s wrong?”

Jack’s eyes, dark and deep, look to me. He begins to speak, then hesitates. “You’re...” He stops again and dismisses the thought with a shake of his head.

“What is it, Jack?”

“You’re you, Allie. You’re incredible. You’re funny, and you’re smart, and you’re gorgeous. So sexy, and amazing, and...” He glances up at me, as if testing to see if he’s gone too far. “I ruin every date I’ve ever been on, and frankly, I couldn’t live with myself if I ruined us.”

“Then it’s a very good thing this isn’t a date.”

“Last night—”

“Let’s forget about last night and start over.”

“Fine. Tonight, then. Look at us, look at this.” He gestures between us. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you promise me a chance at a future, Allie.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I want this just as badly as you do. I just...I can’t predict the future,” I say as his mother’s threats swipe through my memories. “I don’t know what it’ll mean for us.”

“We’re giving this a fair shot, Allie Jenkins,” he says with a renewed determination.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m going to kiss you until you whisper my name. I’ll touch you until you beg for more. I’ll taste you until you’re ready to have me, all of me.”

I swallow, but I can’t bring myself to argue with him. The slow burn from before is re-ignited, and my arguments all seem to have fallen by the wayside. Nothing, nothing is as important as feeling Jack inside of me, holding me, making me his own.

For what it’s worth, I want him to prove me wrong. I want him to love me and hold me as his own, to claim me for a lifetime together.

“Promise me you’ll try—that you’ll give us a chance.”

“I promise you that: I’ll try.” My fingers are surprisingly calm as I finish unbuttoning his shirt.

He’s bare chested underneath and stunning. He could be an athlete, an Armani model, a movie star. He could be anything he wanted to be, with anyone he wanted to know, and yet, he’s here with me.

I let my hands explore, running over his chest, his sculpted arms, his sides. He’s gorgeous, and I pull him against my body, our bare skin finally connecting in a way that’s more satisfying than I’d imagined. My head falls against his shoulder.

His hands ease against my hips now, his finger slipping beneath the edge of my panties and traces thin lines along my skin. His hand snaps the edge of the lace against my body as he covers me with his, perching over me on the bed. We’re both next to naked, and I can feel every wisp of his breath as it dances over my skin. And then with the blink of an eye, the panties disappear, too.

He gives a delicious frown of concentration as our eyes meet. My reaction is instant, and I arch against him, his arousal pressing to my stomach. He groans at the touch, his fingers moving with a new sense of urgency, gentle, possessive as he strokes and plays, teasing one gasp after the next from my lips. The tension grows, builds, multiplies as I begin to writhe against him.

My head presses back against the fabric as his hand cups my warmth, holds me tight, and drives me higher. He taunts and teases, holding all I’ve ever wanted just out of reach.

“You feel incredible already,” he rumbles. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I gasp. “Not important. We can go again.”

He gives a short bark of laughter, then returns to business, raising one hand to cup my breast. He massages through the thin fabric of my bra, running his thumb over my nipple before he eases downward.

He kisses a trail over my stomach as he finds my core, planting a kiss that makes me cry out for him. My hips buck upward, and Jack catches them with his free hand. He holds me tight to him as his tongue moves, gentle and confident, firm and possessive. My fingers reach for the bed sheets, dig into the mattress. The sounds coming from me are almost otherworldly, and I can’t quite seem to string any sort of real syllables together.

“Jack,” I gasp, calling for him. “Jack, I need—”

One of his fingers plunges inside of me, and then another, and my cries once again fade to nonsense. He’s pushing and pulling, circling me, bringing me to heights I’ve never before seen.

“Jack, I need...” I reach for him, my hands clawing at his shoulders. “More. All of you.”

Finally, mercifully, he stands, and I take advantage of the opportunity. I stand on the bed and pounce toward him, leaping forward and tugging his boxers down before retreating back to the bed. It’s not graceful; if anything, I’m flying wild with desperation, and this brings a half-smug grin to his face.

“I like this side of Allie Jenkins,” he murmurs.

I survey Jack’s body which, as I might’ve guessed from last night, does not disappoint. He stands before me, long and lean and beautiful to perfection, and I swallow my sighs of pleasure. It’s a sheer joy to look at him. “I like this side of Jack Darcy. And the other one. Turn around.”

Another laugh from him, but he complies, and the back is just as stunning as the front.

By the time he comes full circle to stand before me, there truly is a new side to Jack that I’ve never seen before. A light pink tinge colors his cheeks for the briefest of seconds as he realizes that I’m staring at his nakedness. Drinking him in, each and every inch.

He reaches down, his eyes averted. Pulling me to his chest, he holds me snug and perfect, as one. By the time Jack has us situated, my head’s on the pillow, and he’s perched above me, holding my weight in one hand.

“Tell me you want this,” Jack murmurs in my ear. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” I gasp, feeling his arousal nudge against my entrance. A zing of electricity shoots through me at the mere thought of him there. “Jack, I need you more than anything.”

“Forever.”

I look away, unable to hold his gaze. Unable to promise what I don’t know is certain. I always keep my promises to Jack, and this is one is too big.

Jack gives a brief shake of his head. “Allie—”

“You know I’m on the pill, and I’m perfectly healthy,” I tell him, changing the subject.

“Me too.”

“Jack,” I whine, pressing lower, pushing him with the thought of holding back. The fullness of him is starting to spread me, and I take him further and further. It’s not enough. I need him, all of him. “I need you.”

He grimaces, sliding into me so slowly, painstakingly slow. Easing inside inch by inch until he’s halfway in, and then further, stretching me, easing me into a wild frenzy of need.

I squirm against him, pressing with all my weight, but he doesn’t move faster. He rests there, savoring the moment, and I’m so full I can’t possibly take a second more of the anticipation. It’s almost painful, this weight, and I swallow a sob as I grip his shoulder.

“Jack,” I grit out. “It’s too much, you need to—”

Then he moves, and my mind goes blank. The friction between us, the heat, the need, the wild desperation. The way we fit suddenly works—a perfect match, a beautiful chorus.

One thrust, slow, gentle, as his eyes lock with mine. It’s the intensity in his gaze that has my heart stuttering to a stop, my breathing ragged. He eases out until he sees the fear in my eyes that he’ll stop, and then he pauses, his wide eyes mirroring my basic need for him, before he plunges back into me.

He thrusts again, faster and faster, his lips fixing on mine as his tongue slips between my lips and draws out my gasps. Faster, faster, until the fire burns and the point of no return crashes over us. I arch against him, pressing my hips to his as he covers me entirely. His muscles tense, arms taut as they hold me to him.

My breath mixes with his, the sheen from our bodies melding to one as we fly through this race, this dance, the passion buzzing around us, intensifying as we dive off the highest of cliffs and race toward a final destination that frightens both of us.

We can’t stop, can’t move forward, we can only lose ourselves in one another, so that’s what we do. I soak up Jack’s touches, his fingers twined in my hair, his caress on my breast. The kiss swallows my sob as the climax bursts through us, dragging us under, drowning us in an earth-shattering tremor.

My ragged breaths slow as Jack holds me tight, perched above me, covering me with his embrace. I meet his eyes and suddenly feel quite shy.

I offer him a smile, carefully assessing his reaction. Attempting to judge whether these last few moments rocked his earth as much as they had mine. It takes a long moment, but finally, he grins. A wide-eyed, shit-eating smile that has me grinning right back at him, the light in his eyes reflecting down on me.

“That was incredible,” he says. “Holy shit, Allie.”

“Yeah,” I agree, and then I lean forward and graze the softest of kisses to his cheek. “Jack Darcy, you most certainly do not suck at sex.”