27. Andy #2
“Ready, Aunt Andy?” Piper yells from down the hall, and I lean back, reluctant to break away from him. I just want to stay in his arms until the sick feeling in my stomach goes away.
But I can’t.
“Coming,” I yell.
“Not yet, you aren’t,” Jedd mumbles, and I burst out laughing, the tension evaporating.
“Har, har. But you have to let me go. The sooner she’s asleep, the sooner you’re all mine.” I grin at him.
“Fine.” He drags the word out like it’s torture, and I chuckle as I walk down the hall.
Piper’s practically vibrating on the bed when I step into the room.
“Ready for a story?” I ask, and she nods.
“Yep. Tonight was so much fun, Aunt Andy. I wish …”
“What do you wish, Pip?” I ask.
“That Mom could have seen my dress. And the firetruck. It was so cool. All the kids freaked out when me and Ben and Sophie got out of it.”
“I wish she could have seen it too. But I’ll tell you what, she’s coming to see you tomorrow, and we can show her pictures.”
Piper’s eyes fly to mine. “She’s coming tomorrow?”
“Yep. Before dinner.” Excitement comes into her gaze, and wariness settles in my gut like an anvil.
If Alex doesn’t show tomorrow …
It’s going to wreck Piper.
And there’s nothing I can do about it except be here for her.
“Now, how about that story,” I say knowing that she needs good sleep to deal with whatever tomorrow brings.
We go through three chapters before she finally falls asleep.
I stay for a few extra minutes watching her at peace and pray that Alex visiting doesn’t trip her up.
That Alex shows up. That she can be civil.
That we can keep the conflict between us and not bring Piper into it.
After brushing her curls back, I get up and turn on her night light before slipping out and slowly shutting her door.
The living room and kitchen are dark, so I head to my room.
The sound of the shower running from the bathroom tells me where Jedd is, and I quickly undress before stepping into the steamy bathroom.
His profile is visible behind the glass of the shower.
Water sluices down his muscled form as heat gathers inside me.
I open the door and step into the shower with him.
He’s in the process of rinsing his hair, head tipped back, suds running down the muscled ridges of his chest and abdomen, and my mouth waters for a taste of him.
I step forward and run my hands up his stomach, over the broad plane of his chest, pressing close. His heart thuds under my hands, and mine races in tandem with his.
One of his hands wraps around my waist and tugs me closer, my nipple scraping across the light hair that dusts his pecs.
“Hey, Mischief,” he says quietly.
“Hey, Jedd.” I place a small kiss at the hollow between his muscles where his heart beats.
“How was the massage?” he asks.
I lean against him suddenly exhausted. “Good. Amazing. Wonderful.” I press my lips to his chest with each word.
“I’m glad.” His hand glides along my back in a sweeping caress. “You sure you’ll be okay tomorrow?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
He tips my chin up and his lips find mine in a brief kiss. “I don’t mind moving things around a bit.”
“I mind,” I say. “I can handle it. I can handle Alex.”
“Mischief.” His tone holds steel as the muscle in his jaw clenches.
I look up.
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to.”
The implacable resolve in his gaze tells me it’s useless to argue, and I try to explain.
“It’s not your problem though …”
Jedd’s hands come up to the back of my neck and he squeezes lightly.
“The fact that you think of your sister as a problem means it is mine. I promised to share everything with you. From hardships to triumphs. When you’re struggling, I’m struggling, Andy. And I’m damned if I’ll let you handle that alone.”
I want to shove his words away. Desperate to keep a little independence, to protect my swiftly falling heart a little from the scary feelings he brings out in me.
I swore going into this relationship that I wouldn’t let it pull my focus from Piper, and I’m failing at that.
I’m failing so miserably. I want to take his offer to be here, his offer to be there for me when I need it and hold it close.
To stay safe in his arms. But I’m scared.
Being vulnerable—even with someone I love—is terrifying.
I’ve always handled my shit and taken care of whatever needed taking care of.
But now, Jedd’s demand to lean on him feels like using him.
Using him in a way I swore I never would.
His fingers rub the nape of my neck, the touch so gentle in contrast to his steely words.
The last barrier holding my resistance in place falls. I’ve loved Jedd so many ways over the years, but none of them feel as irrevocable as the emotion swamping me right now.
I want to dismiss it.
But I can’t. Not when I look at the man who is holding me and see the truth in his eyes.
He’s just as in love with me.
How did I miss it? All these years, the two of us silently pining for each other, content with friendship so we didn’t lose each other?
“Mischief?” Jedd’s questioning tone pulls me from my thoughts as he turns so I’m under the spray of the water. I can’t even be mad that my hair is getting wet when the warmth of the water and his intent focus wash over me.
Unable to speak, to put what I’m feeling into words, I tug him down until his mouth finds mine.
If I can’t tell him what I’m feeling, the tumultuous feelings rioting inside of me, I can show him.