Chapter 12 #3
“No,” I murmur, then regret it. “Maybe.”
“You do. Because it’s exactly what you want.”
I exhale. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
His fingers curl over the top of my half-open waistband. “Yes it does. Nothing could ever matter more to me than what you want, Georgia.” My underwear shifts against my pussy as he makes a fist. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
My hips squirm seemingly of their own accord, begging him to keep exploring me, and with that simple question comes clarity: Yes.
I want it all. I’m not confused. I finally know what it feels like to want something with my whole body and my whole heart, and here he is, begging me to let him give it all to me.
“Cash,” someone calls from the hallway.
He ignores it and inches my sweater up to expose my belly.
“Cash,” they call again, more insistent.
“Not now,” he snarls.
“Come out. Maisy’s here.”
He tenses above me. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” He frowns down at me, the haze of lust in his eyes evaporated. “Is she picking you up or something?”
“Not that I know of.”
“You know, people talk about the twin thing—twins being able to sense when the other is in trouble? Funny how it’s never done anything but fuck me over.”
“We should go.” I sigh, pushing him away but not hating the feel of his muscle-bound chest under my palm.
He doesn’t touch me as we move for the door, not that it matters; I still feel him right behind me.
Maisy is laughing with Ruby in the living room when we enter, everyone else spread out on couches and chairs. She does a double take at the sight of me. “Georgia. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” Then, spotting Cash behind me, her lips flatten into a thin line.
“Game night,” Cash cuts in before I can answer. “I invited her. What are you doing here?”
Amid the thick tension, my gaze searches out a safe place, landing on Ruby. Her eyes flare in a subtle look of understanding.
“Returning your space heater.” She gestures at the little unit sitting against the wall, then turns to me. “I can give you a ride home if you—”
“We might not be done playing,” Cash interrupts. “I’ll drive her home.”
Out here in the light, my moment of clarity looks hazy in retrospect.
“It’s fine, I’m getting tired, anyway. I’ll come home with you, Mais.
” Ignoring the weight of Cash’s stare, I give quick hugs and goodbyes around the room.
By the time I’ve reached the small nook that leads to the front door, Maisy has disappeared and Cash is waiting for me.
“Where is she?” I reach for my coat.
“Already in the car.”
Properly bundled, I offer him nothing more than a quick glance. “Thanks for inviting me.”
But when I reach for the door, he leans against it. “It’s stupid at this point. Denying what’s between us because of Maisy?” Cash keeps his voice low, but it fills the emptiness between us completely.
“I’m not denying it. I want this, Cash,” I whisper. “I want it.”
He looks stunned silent to find I have no argument.
“But I need time.”
“To—”
“I don’t know how else to explain it to you if you don’t get it by now. I don’t want to lose Maisy. I need to think about how to do this.” I push past him and step out into the icy night. But then he says my name, and when I turn back, he’s watching me from the doorway.
“You’re forgetting something,” he mumbles.
Is he about to kiss me in full view of his sister, taking us to the point of no return? “What’s that?”
His stance is solid in the doorway, his shoulders back and certain. “I’m your friend too.”
At the rumble of Maisy’s engine coming to life on the street, I nod and walk down the driveway.
Anxiety grips my stomach as I slide into the passenger seat.
I’ve known since our camp days Maisy pulls no punches, and she wasn’t ambiguous about her stance on me and Cash.
A preemptive apology forms on my tongue while she pulls onto the street, but my lips don’t find the courage to part.
Flurries melt into the windshield, blurring the neighborhood into red and gold watercolors, until Maisy flicks the lever behind the steering wheel and the wipers swish once, a welcome interruption to the quiet.
But from there, the silence multiplies along with my guilt.
“Did he invite you to the big football party this weekend?” she finally says when we pull into the driveway.
He. The one we’ve both spent the entire car ride thinking about.
“No.”
Meeting my eye for the first time since Cash’s house, she turns. “He didn’t?”
Damn, that penetrating gaze. Must be a Hartnell family secret. “Actually,” I hear myself say, scrabbling for something. Anything, really. “I have a date this weekend.”
She cocks her head. “Really?” And when I nod, her face relaxes, and we’re suddenly unbuckling our seat belts and getting out of the car like that suffocating silence never happened.
As I climb the stairs to my little bedroom, I pull Aaron’s number up on my phone.
GEORGIA: If your offer of dinner is still good, I’m free this weekend.
Funny how it feels like a betrayal when I hit Send. Not only to Cash but also to myself.