11. Liam
CHAPTER 11
Liam
I wake up early, because of course I do. There’s a hot, hard body up against mine. And my body is reacting to that.
Fucking Harrison.
I never should have given in. I know it seems to everyone, including Harrison, that I am in charge when the two of us are together. But I wish my heart would get the message.
He has me twisted up, has from the very beginning, and my chances of resisting him last night were negative zero.
I think I put on a pretty good show, but he had been slowly chipping away at my self-control and when he started stripping, I knew I was done for.
Then the charged moment between him and Ivy was my definite breaking point.
Watching the two of them just stare at one another ignited lust inside me that I have never felt before.
And they were just looking at one another.
If they ever touch, or kiss, if Harrison ever wraps her hair around his fist, says the dirty fucking things that I know he can say to Ivy , if I ever see her naked in his arms, I might combust.
I shift away from his body, knowing that he might wake slightly, but then he’ll roll over, get comfortable again, and go right back to sleep. Harrison doesn’t let things like someone else being awake keep him from his own comforts, like sleeping as late as possible.
I swing my legs over the side of the mattress and stand, quickly grabbing clothes from my bag and ducking into the bathroom. I shower and brush my teeth, getting ready as quietly as possible. I’ll head out and find coffee and breakfast for everyone and hope that they’re all stirring by the time I get back. The sooner we get on the road, the sooner we get to South Carolina and the sooner I can put real distance between me and Harrison.
I’m almost to the door of the room when I hear Ivy‘s soft voice. “Liam,” she whispers.
I look over at her bed. I had avoided that until this moment, not wanting to see her snuggled up against Ford.
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling her shoes on. She must’ve gotten dressed while I was in the bathroom. Her hair is up in a bun on the top of her head, and she’s wearing a sundress.
Fuck.
Do women know what sundresses do to men? It’s what gray sweatpants on men do to women. And other men.
I have double the temptation in this room. Harrison has a pair of gray sweatpants along.
The bastard.
And now my girl is wearing a baby blue sundress that hits her mid-thigh when she stands. The thin straps leave her shoulders and arms bare, and the dress molds to her perky breasts.
The ones Ford sucked on last night.
I groan. Not only because she looks adorable, slightly sleepy, and sweet, but because I just so naturally thought of her as ‘my girl’. Hours after she spent the night in another man’s arms. A man who sucked on her nipples and made her come.
I don’t know the details—I was a little distracted myself, but I heard it. Harrison did too. And I know it turned him on.
The sounds—those fucking sounds—of Ivy coming apart in pleasure… fuck . I wasn’t responsible for them and yet I don’t know that I will ever get them out of my head.
“Are you going to get coffee?” she asks me, keeping her voice low as she comes to stand beside me.
I nod instead of speaking.
“Can I come?” she asks.
You come prettier than anyone I’ve ever heard . Of course I don’t say that. Or the next thought either. Harrison doesn’t come pretty . No. He comes loud and with my name on his tongue. Exactly the way I order him to.
Yep, I can distinctly remember how he sounded with my hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him until he spilled, hot and sticky, all over my hand.
Jesus. It’s not even eight in the morning and I am hard as a rock.
I open the door and usher her out with a hand on her lower back.
Once the door shuts behind us, I say, “I saw a place a few blocks over. It’s just a diner, so I’m not sure what they’ll have to offer. But hopefully to-go cups. Unless you want to stay there.”
Maybe that’s a good idea. We can sit and eat and let the other two sleep for a while.
I wouldn’t mind some alone time with Ivy. I don’t know where her head is for sure—this road trip has been intense—and I would love to know how she’s feeling about everything. Okay, specifically about Ford.
I should be wondering how she’s feeling about Brad.
But I know her. She’s okay about her ruined wedding. I can read her well enough to know that. I was worried that she wasn’t madly in love with Brad to start with. I’m definitely relieved that the wedding got called off, of course, and yes, some of that is selfish because of my feelings for her, but it’s also because I know her feelings for Brad were not strong enough. And he’s a dick. He was never good enough for her.
But my curiosity isn’t about Brad. It’s all about Ford. There’s clearly something there. Something more than what happened last night.
He wants her. Has for a while, I know. But now she’s available and she’s interested, I can tell.
And if fucking Harrison wasn’t here distracting me, I’d be more tuned in to what’s going on between her and the other millionaire playboy.
Hell, that’s probably not even fair.
Ford’s a good guy. He dates, sure, but he’s not the man whore the guy I’m stupidly crazy about is.
Ford has been taking care of Ivy this whole time. While I’ve been dealing with Harrison.
But has he taken advantage of her vulnerable state? Is she looking at him with a little hero worship maybe?
We should talk this out.
She’s been quiet on the drive to the diner, so as I pull the glass door open I say, “Let’s stay and eat here.”
“What about the guys?” she asks.
I step in behind her and frown. “They’re big boys.” But then I say. “We can take them something to go. But I’d like a chance to talk, just the two of us. We haven’t had any time alone since the wedding.”
Her blue gaze meets mine. She nods. “That would be nice.”
My heart trips. Damn. This woman has me wrapped around her little finger and she has no idea. She could have anything from me. I’d even let Ford have her if that’s what she wants.
But fuck. This is the first time we’ve both been single at the same time since I met her. How can I just step aside without at least telling her how I feel?
The diner is busy, and a harried waitress with medium brown skin, curly black hair, and a big smile hustles over and grabs two plastic coated menus and tells us, “This way.“ She leads us to a booth in the far corner and we slide in on opposite sides.
We peruse the menu, but the offerings are pretty basic and we decide quickly.
I order eggs, sausage, and toast while Ivy gets an omelet. The waitress pours us both coffee and I say, “We’ll need a couple of the breakfast burritos and some coffee to go as well.”
She notes that on her pad and heads for the kitchen.
I look across the table at my best friend.
“Okay, how are you?”
She takes a deep breath and blows it out. “Good. Actually, really good.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Really. I’m relieved that things with Brad are over.” She gives a short laugh. “As sad as that is. I’m feeling stupid that he was the one who had to end it. But also glad he did. I’m actually having fun on this road trip, though I’m dreading dealing with the house. I know you guys, you and F-Ford, will help me.” She stumbles slightly over his name. “And things are…” Her gaze drops to the tabletop. “Good otherwise.”
“You mean things with you and Ford.” I feel a cold ball gathering in my chest. Fuck. She’s already taken. Again.
“Oh, I don’t know,“ she says with a shrug.
My heart kicks with what I can only describe as hope. “Really? What about last night?”
She blushes. “Well, that was fun,” she says with a little smile. “But before last night, I kissed him and he pulled back. He doesn’t want to rush things and I think he’s right. I am very, very attracted to him. And he’s a great guy. I do feel something there. There’s a ton of chemistry. More than I ever had with Brad, sadly. But…I don’t know. Maybe the timing is wrong.”
“So last night was only sex?” I shouldn’t ask. It’s probably none of my business. But I’m in love with this girl. And she’s my best friend. Best friends talk about this stuff, right?
Okay, that’s not it. I need to know how she feels about Ford. I need to know if they’ve talked about any future. I need to know what I’m up against.
“Not sex,” she says, lowering her voice. “Just messing around.”
I lean in. I’ve always kept things friendly and fun with us. I’ve never pushed things with Ivy. Again, one of us has always been taken, and that wouldn’t have been appropriate. But neither of us is taken right now. Not officially. Not in a committed, in love way. So I say, “I heard you come last night, Ivy. That wasn’t just messing around. I heard what he did to you.”
She stares at me, as if she can’t look away. Her cheeks are pink, but her mouth falls open, and she’s breathing a little faster. The air between us heats slightly.
Her tongue darts out and wets her bottom lip. “He made me come. But it wasn’t sex. Just…touching.” Her gaze darts around as if she’s trying to figure out if anyone can overhear us. When her eyes come back to mine, she gives me a little half grin that looks sexy and satisfied.
I can’t help but grin in return. I’ve been there. “Well, it sounded really good.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “I could hear you, too.”
Heat arrows through me sharply. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. Both of you. It sounded like you were having fun, too.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. It was fun. Also just touching. No sex.”
She watches me without speaking, and I wonder if she’s picturing it. Me and Harrison together, hands around one another’s cocks. The pink in her cheeks is darker now. And dammit, I’m again assaulted by images of her and Harrison. Him kissing her, her mouth around his cock, her riding him.
They would be so fucking hot together. And I would be there too. Definitely. I’d be telling them both what to do to each other. Fuck , that would be hot as hell.
Just then, the waitress arrives with our breakfasts, setting plates of eggs and sausage in front of us. The scent of fried potatoes, onions and peppers surrounds us and my stomach growls. Ivy immediately reaches for the butter and strawberry jam.
We both get busy salting, pouring ketchup, and digging into the good old-fashioned breakfast.
We eat without talking. We’re very comfortable being quiet together after our years of friendship, and I am struck by how much I like just being with her.
But it does feel different between us at the moment. We’ve never talked about sex like this. We’ve never been in the same room together while having orgasms. At the hands of other people.
And I really want to do it again. And I really want to know what she’s thinking.
And I really need to tell her how I feel about her.
We make small talk about getting on the road, how far we’re going to drive today, if we think the guys are awake yet.
Our waitress brings our check, along with a paper bag with two burritos, and a drink holder with two paper cups of coffee. She tells us there’s also cream, sugar, and plastic stirrers in the bottom of the bag.
I pay, rolling my eyes inwardly about buying breakfast for two fucking millionaires, but I do find some satisfaction in it being greasy diner food.
As we approach the car, Ivy laughs. “Here, you should carry the coffee.” She starts to hand me the drink carrier.
I frown. “Why?”
“Your boyfriend will like it if you bring him coffee,” she says with a grin.
My boyfriend. She just referred to Harrison as my boyfriend.
I stop walking. She takes two steps before she realizes I’ve stopped. She turns back. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell you something,” I say, realizing this is the moment.
“Okay.“ She frowns, clearly realizing from my serious expression and tone that I’m not joking around.
“We have never been single at the same time,” I tell her. “Every time I’m single, you’ve been seeing someone. Every time you’ve been single, I’ve been with someone. Ever since we first met.”
Her brow furrows as if she’s thinking about this. She nods. “I guess that’s true.”
“Now, we’re both single, but we’re kind of on the verge of possible relationships again. With Harrison and Ford.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen with Ford,” she says.
“If you want something to happen with him, it will,” I tell her. She needs to know that. I need her to know that. “I think he’s had feelings for you for a while. And there’s very clear chemistry between you. He’s being a good guy right now because you just had a breakup. But the ball’s in your court. And I know you really like him.” I take a breath. “He’d be good for you.”
She takes a step back toward me. “And you have big feelings for Harrison. Are you admitting that to me finally?”
I pull in a breath and blow it out. “Fuck. Yes, fine, I do have feelings for Harrison.”
She is not surprised by my admission. “But they live in South Carolina,” she points out.
“Yes. It’s a little complicated with both of them, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about. This isn’t about them.”
“Okay.”
I take a step toward her. Now we’re directly in front of one another. I study her beautiful face. It’s so familiar it makes my chest ache. I’ve looked at her a million times and wished that I could reach up and cup her cheek, tuck her hair behind her ear, drag my thumb along her jaw, lean in and kiss her.
Fuck it.
Why can’t I do those things now?
She’s my best friend. I love her. She’s single. I’m single. And I might not ever have another chance.
I drop the bag with the two burritos to the ground, reach up and take her face in both hands and pull her close.
“Ivy.”
“Yes?” she asks, her voice soft.
Her eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them. But she’s not pulling back.
“I do have feelings for Harrison. And if you have feelings for Ford and something can come of that, I’m very happy for you. If that’s what you want. But there’s something you should know.”
“Okay,” she says, her voice almost a whisper.
“You are my best friend, and I love you, the way we’ve always said. But it’s more than that. I want you. I want to be with you. I am in love with you.”
Then I do the thing I have been aching to do for three years. I pull her close as I lean in and I finally kiss her.