“Can I ask you something?” I look up from my laptop to where Ant is sitting on the couch just a couple feet from me, watching a rerun of some old war show.
“Anything.” He grins, shifting his body inward to face me.
“Do you consider me a friend?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?” he chuckles, gently knocking his foot against my shin.
“I mean, do you see me as someone you can tell anything to?” I try a different tactic.
I know I can’t outright ask him what I learned from Tess earlier today, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to get him to tell me on his own.
I can’t pretend that the fact that I had to learn it from Tess, to begin with, didn’t hurt—it did. Oddly it felt almost like a betrayal which, I know, makes zero sense. There are so many things I haven’t told him over the years.
“I’d like to think so, yes. Why? Where is this coming from?”
“Just curious.” I shrug.
“You’re a shit liar, Kingsley.” He shakes his head at me.
“Why do people always say that to me?” I fake offense. “I could be a master liar for all you know. Maybe I only pretend to be a bad liar so you don’t catch on.”
“Hmm.” He thinks on this for a moment. “So should I be worried that you’re really a serial killer who has lured me here under false pretenses, and just when I let my guard down will go in for the kill.”
“I can’t say one way or the other.” I play coy.
“And you’ll probably grind up my remains and serve me as dinner to all your friends.”
“Anthony Meatloaf. My favorite.” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully.
“My God, where has this conversation gone?” he laughs, pointing out what we’re both clearly thinking.
“I have no idea,” I laugh in agreement.
“What about you? Do you see me as the type of friend you can tell anything to?” He turns the tables on me, returning to the conversation at hand.
“I think so.”
“Says the girl who has so many secrets tucked away in that pretty little head of hers it’s a wonder they aren’t coming out of her ears.”
“Huh?” I laugh, finding his choice of words a little curious.
“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “You’re a vault, Kingsley. Always have been. Shit liar. Good at keeping secrets.”
“That makes no sense.”
“How does it not?”
“Doesn’t lying and keeping secrets kind of go hand in hand?” I question.
“To an extent, maybe. But you’re nothing if not a walking contradiction.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I lay a smack to his bicep.
“It means whatever you think it means.”
“You’re impossible.” I sigh, closing my laptop before dropping it on the coffee table in front of me.
“And you’re not?”
“Well, I wasn’t talking about me,” I object.
“But now we are.” He smiles, and the swirl in my stomach does not go unnoticed.
“Whatever. You’re so annoying.”
“And you get riled up so easily,” he counters, that damn smile still firmly intact.
“I am not riled,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest as I settle back into the couch cushion.
“No?” he questions, scooting closer. “Then what do you call this business.” He peels one arm away from my chest and then the other, his fingers wrapping around my wrists.
“Just making sure you aren’t checking out my girls,” I quip playfully, trying to pull out of his grip—unsuccessfully.
“Too late for that.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I check those beauties out every chance I get.”
“Shut up.”
I once again try wrestling out of his hold, but somehow only manage to scoot further down the couch until I end up pinned beneath his hard body and breathing heavily from my efforts.
“You know, for as strong of a person as you are, you really are quite weak,” he teases, his face so close to mine I can feel his breath on my lips.
“Well, considering you’re like three times the size of me, I think you have me at an unfair advantage.” I try my damnedest to ignore the way my heart suddenly feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest at his nearness.
“Excuses, excuses.” He smiles, holding my gaze.
“Keep it up and I’m gonna show you excuses,” I warn.
“Is that so?” He slowly trails his hand down my side, the action causing my skin to erupt in goose bumps.
Just when I feel like I’m seconds from losing my grip on the situation, he squeezes my side, hard, and I squeal out in laughter. I hate being tickled, and yet I can’t help but laugh when someone tickles me. This only eggs Ant on more.
Before long, he’s got me withering below him and begging for him to stop. It’s this really weird confliction of emotions. Inside my head, I’m screaming for him to stop, but at the same time, the laughter bubbling out of me says something else entirely.
After what feels like an eternity but was likely no more than a minute or two, Ant finally stops, his assault clearly leaving him a bit winded. He collapses down on top of me, his weight suffocating and yet the sweetest kind of torture.
I can’t stop myself when my hands find his back and my fingers trace the skin just above his jeans where his shirt has ridden up. The way he stiffens on top of me only makes me want more, and yet somehow I find the strength to realize what I’m doing and stop myself.
Pulling my hands away, I clear my throat.
“You gonna get off me now, or are we just gonna stay like this all night?” I fake annoyance.
“I think I could be persuaded to move; then again, this might just be my favorite new spot.” His words are playful, but the look he’s giving me is anything but.
There’s something dark behind those incredible blue-gray eyes of his. Something that has heat flooding across my skin like I’ve just been submerged into a tub of boiling hot water.
I can feel the situation getting heavier with each moment that passes. I can feel the air shift around us, and I can’t seem to let go of the breath I’m currently holding in my lungs; afraid that if I do I might say or do something that I will most definitely regret.
“Tell me not to kiss you.” His words are a whispered plea, like he’s trying so hard not to cross the invisible line placed between us, but wants to just as much as I do.
“Don’t kiss me,” I say unconvincingly.
“Say it like you don’t want me to, Kingsley, otherwise I’m not sure I can stop myself.”
“I do want you to.” I meet his gaze, his face just an inch from mine now. “But you can’t,” I quickly add. “We can’t.”
“Why?” he groans, pressing down on me so that I can feel the clear indication of his arousal.
I can’t process the way that makes me feel. Knowing that he wants me too. Knowing that his body craves mine as much as mine craves his. It’s almost enough for me to throw out my reservations and dive in head first.
I’ve been fighting it for weeks, trying to convince myself that this feeling with him is just in my mind. But this—this moment—it’s confirming every single thing I think I already knew…
I’m falling for Anthony Treadway, in a big way.
“You know why.” I finally get the strength to speak.
“It’s in the past,” he whispers against my mouth, his bottom lip grazing mine as he speaks.
My lower belly erupts in a need so intense I’m fairly certain I’ve never felt anything like it before.
“She’s my friend.”
“It’s in the past,” he repeats.
“Ant.” I try to hold my composure, but can feel it slipping more and more with each second that passes.
“I’m gonna kiss you now, Bree.”
He doesn’t give me time to object before his lips are pressed firmly against mine, and the instant they do my body shoots apart in so many directions I’m not entirely sure I know which way is up or down anymore.
I part my lips in an effort to speak, but instead of words coming out, our tongues collide and the kiss intensifies a million times over. My hands are in his hair, tangling in his dark locks as I pull him impossibly close.
Nothing else matters right now. Not one damn thing holds any significance outside of this. His mouth working against mine, his hands holding me in place, refusing to let me turn away from everything he knows I want.
And God do I want it. I want him—every single inch, every ounce, every part of him. And I want it all to myself.
“Mama.” I hear his little voice like he’s screaming directly into my ear.
Ant and I instantly break apart, both flying to opposite ends of the couch, both breathless and neither seeming entirely sure of what the hell just happened. I’m still straightening my shirt when Jackson appears where the hallway meets the living room.
“Mama,” he repeats, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.
“I’m right here, buddy.” I quickly climb to my feet, completely avoiding looking in Ant’s direction. “What are you doing up?” I hoist him up into my arms.
“The dinosaurs are back,” he says sleepily.
“Did Papaw let you watch the dinosaur movie again?” I ask, knowing every time he goes over to my grandparents he asks to watch Jurassic World, and every time they let him he ends up having nightmares about dinosaurs for a week straight.
He nods and buries his face into the side of my neck.
“Remind me to throw that movie away the next time we’re over there,” I say more to myself than to him. “Come on, Mama will lay with you until you fall back asleep.”
I can feel Ant’s eyes on my back as I cross the room and disappear down the hall where the bedrooms are located.
It only takes me five minutes to get Jack settled but, for obvious reasons, I can’t seem to force myself to go back out into the living room and face him after what just happened between us.
It was only a kiss.
I try to reason with myself, but it doesn’t do me any good when I know exactly where that kiss would have led had Jack not woken up.
What the hell was I even thinking? Letting him kiss me like that. Never mind the fact that he’s Courtney’s ex-boyfriend; what if Jackson would have walked in on that? Seconds later and he would have, and then what?
I shake my head, cursing myself for letting things go as far as they did.
I’m used to flirty Ant at this point. I learned a long time ago that’s just how he is. But it was stupid and careless of me to let my guard down because I believed I was safe with him. I am anything but safe with the likes of Anthony Treadway. I think tonight drove this fact home.
I’m not sure how much times passes, me hiding out in Jackson’s room, Ant in the living room probably just as confused as I am. But by the time I finally emerge it feels like an eternity has passed.
Ant is still sitting in the same spot that I left him in, his light eyes finding mine the moment I enter the room.
“He okay?”
I love that the first question from his mouth has nothing to do with us. He could've asked me a million other things, but his first concern was Jackson; my heart constricts a little tighter.
“Yeah. I’ve told my grandpa not to let him watch that movie I don’t know how many times.” I let out a breath as I take a seat in the chair that sits directly across from the couch.
“Mine was The Neverending Story,” he chimes in. “My sister loved that movie, and it always gave me horrible nightmares.”
“Really?” I can’t help but smile at him. “I loved that movie.”
“It was a good movie. But that damn wolf thing got me every time.”
“Yeah, that part was pretty creepy, I’ll give you that,” I agree, letting the next several seconds of silence stretch between us without another word.
I know this is the point where one of us just needs to say something already, but damn if I can’t seem to think of one single thing to say.
“I’m sorry.” Ant is the first to break the silence.
“No, I’m sorry,” I interject, feeling like this is one hundred percent on me.
Even though he initiated the kiss, I certainly didn’t do one damn thing to discourage it either, and that’s on me.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s my fault. I guess I just, fuck… I don’t know. I guess I just lost my mind for a second. What we have here is good. I don’t want to screw that up. And I never want to put you in a position where you feel like you’re doing wrong by Courtney. Please know that was never my intention.”
“I know that.”
“I don’t regret kissing you, Bree. I want to make that very clear. But you’re too important to me to do anything to jeopardize our friendship.”
“I feel the same way,” I finally admit; though, I also can’t ignore the disappointment that settles down on my chest like a thousand pound weight.
“So how about we just pretend like it never happened? Deal?” He gives me a boyish grin, and I swear I nearly melt into a damn puddle right here on the floor.
“Deal,” I concede, knowing that’s it the right move but wishing like hell it could be so much different.
I spend the rest of the night laying wide awake in my bed, unable to shake the memory of Anthony’s mouth on mine or the way that kiss made me feel.