One Day (Relationsteps #1)

CHAPTER ONE

SONYA

One of these days, I’m going to stop betting on Dylan’s sex life.

Today is not that day.

“Thoughts, Sunny?” Everett asks, lifting his hand to point across the bar at our friend and star right-winger for our university hockey team, surrounded by a group of girls. Each one hangs onto his every word, and he’s soaking in their attention like his life depends on it. A charming smile rests on his face, and his hungry gaze settles solely on the blonde hanging off his arm.

Sometimes, he just makes it too easy.

“My bet is on the brunette,” he adds.

“You’re wrong,” Bekah argues from beside him, leaning her elbow on the table we’re sitting at in the back of the only bar in our small college town. “It’s definitely the redhead.”

“You sure about that?” I ask, a smile creeping up on my lips as I assess my options. I don’t know when we started placing bets on which of the women vying for Dylan’s attention would win out and earn themselves more than five minutes, but it’s become a game now. While his lists of conquests grow, so does our entertainment for the night. “The blonde seems to have his attention. Might be her chance.”

“She tries every time we’re here, and he never goes for her. He’s always had a thing for brunettes,” Everett says, tracking his pick before his eyes land on me and the dark brown curls hanging around my shoulders. “You should know, Sunny. You were one of them.”

I narrow my eyes and flip him off. “When are you going to let that go?” I ask, a frown pulling at my lips.

I was dumb and na?ve when I met Dylan last year at freshmen orientation and was eager to have my first wild university experience, which is exactly how I landed at one of the legendary hockey parties. Ten minutes in, I realized rolling around in the sheets with someone I didn’t know wasn’t as fun as I thought. It was the opposite of fun, and instead of getting off the way I hoped, I freaked out and left.

Everett’s brown eyes flash with amusement. “When it stops bringing me so much joy,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “So never.”

“I hate you.”

“Would the two of you shut up?” Bekah asks, leaning into Everett’s side. Her gaze is laser-focused on the redhead she’s hoping Dylan picks. Out of all of us, Bekah gets the most invested in our little game. “Reid, you going to weigh in?”

Reid, who I’ve known my entire life, doesn’t even look up from the book he’s had his nose tucked in since we got to On the Bench and settled into our usual spot. “Can’t say I care to bet on our friend’s sex life,” he says, sinking further into his corner of the round booth.

What was once an old community center was converted into a bar in the early nineties and has become a staple in the town. A place for college students to forget their stresses and town locals to take the edge off. The brick walls are covered in old music posters and sports awards from alumni who attended Millboro University.

“You are no fun,” Bekah groans, throwing her head back in disapproval. I try to hide my laugh, but it’s useless and only earns me a glare. “You care to make things interesting, Cartelli?”

A firm sense of competition tugs at the corner of my brain that knows I’m only going to lose, but I can’t seem to help myself. “More interesting than a coffee tomorrow when I win?”

“Twenty bucks,” she says while reaching for her bag. “Winner takes all.”

My gaze shifts back to the bar where Dylan leans down towards the short blonde, his lips curving up at whatever she just whispered before looking at my two friends placing their bets.

“Deal,” I say, reaching for my purse that sits between me and Reid. “Evy?”

“Sure, I could use forty bucks,” Everett says, tossing two ten-dollar bills on the table. Bekah and I do the same and go back to scoping out our bets.

“The three of you are ridiculous,” Reid says, shaking his head at our antics, but it doesn’t stop him from finally lifting his head to look before laughing to himself.

“What?” I ask, eyeing him.

His answer comes in the form of a point seconds before Bekah throws her arms up in the air, drawing my attention back across the room where the redhead is pulling Dylan around the bar and down the long hall towards the bathrooms.

Dylan DeLuca—classy as always.

“How do you always do that?” I gasp, nudging Reid’s shoulder while Bekah’s gloating has resulted in her standing up on the leather booth, drawing every set of eyes in the bar to our table. All I can do is grin at her and the radiant glee that takes over her face, arms up high as she swings her hips in time to the eighties rock that’s playing.

“Jesus, Bekah!” Everett mutters when she stumbles, his hand grabbing her hip to steady her. “Would you please be careful?”

Bekah grins at him, oblivious to his concern and the lingering gaze of a particular green-eyed hockey star hanging onto her every move from across the room.

“Beks, I think you have a secret admirer.” I tilt my head in his direction.

She follows as she sinks back into her seat. The second her eyes land on him, her once bright grin dims and folds into a scowl. “ Fitz? ” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me. “He wishes.”

I snicker at her annoyance—because I guarantee he does—and let my eyes return to him. He has a reputation worse than Dylan for getting around campus, and I’ll give it to Fitz. He doesn’t shy away when he sees I’ve caught his eyes fixed on my best friend. If anything, it permits him to stare a little longer.

Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to my friends. “Are you going to tell us how you knew he’d go for the redhead?” I clarify my earlier question.

Reid's shoulders brush the ends of his shaggy brown hair that’s just a touch too long when he shrugs. “It’s Wednesday,” he says as if that’s answer enough.

Everett barks a laugh from across the table. “What the fuck does the day of the week have to do with it?” he asks, watching with distaste while Bekah gathers the pool of cash from the middle of the table.

“Can’t tell you that,” Reid says, looking up with a smile. “That’d ruin my fun.”

“That’s how you’re going to play it?” I ask with a raised brow, a small smile growing on my lips. “Have you forgotten I’ve spent years cultivating a large collection of embarrassing moments from your life, and I’m not afraid to use them against you?”

“You can try, but remember, I have just as much on you,” he shoots back with a devious smile. His blue eyes are bright with mischief, and just like that, the two of us are in a staring competition, waiting for the other to break.

Growing up next door to each other, we had been there to witness every embarrassing moment the other has experienced. From Reid being forced to participate in ballet lessons with me—tights and all—to my very public, very humiliating first kiss on the soccer field in seventh grade. There are just some people you do life with, and mine is Reid.

“Hey, cuties,” Dylan says when he slides in next to me, causing my heart to leap into my throat as he pinches my arm and breaks my concentration.

“Damnit, Dylan!” I say, swatting his chest. “I almost had him.”

He laughs at my expense. “No, you didn’t. Reid’s a rock.”

Rolling my eyes, I shuffle over to give Dylan some more room. “That was rather quick,” I note. Reid’s intuition suddenly a conversation of the past as our eyes all track the redhead Dylan was with no less than ten minutes ago. “Can’t keep it up, can you, DeLuca?”

“No, she’s just good with her mouth.”

My lips part in surprise at the lewd comment despite knowing better. Dylan has never been one to hold back, and one of these days, it’s going to get him in trouble. “Too much information, Dylan,” I say, nudging him with my elbow.

“At least tell me you’re repaying the favor,” Bekah says, perking up across from me. Her dark waves sway with her movement. “The girl at least deserves an orgasm if you plan to never talk to her again.”

“You know I’m better than that, Beks,” he says, a hand over his heart. “I’m a giver.”

“It’s less charming when you comment on it yourself,” Reid says, his attention already back on his book. It’s like the rest of us aren’t even here, and somehow, I think that’s exactly how he likes it. He’s always up to going out with us, it just comes with the condition of a book being his plus one.

“She didn’t think so,” Dylan says with a wide grin.

“I’d be mad about how incredibly unattractive your cockiness is, but you just made me forty dollars richer, so I’m going to zip my lips,” Bekah says, dragging her pinched fingers across her mouth and tossing the imaginary key.

“Still betting on my sex life, are we?” he asks with a teasing look.

The first time we did it, it had been as a joke to poke fun at his fuckboy tendencies, but then it kept happening. Somehow, I think he is the most amused by it.

“Yeah, you want to throw me a bone and let me earn my money back?” Everett asks with a raised brow, flexing his arms when he crosses them over his chest. Black ink marks his pale skin like paint seeping from the black fabric of his button-down onto his arms.

Dylan smirks. “Or you could just be better.”

“It would be nice not to keep losing money to Bekah,” I add, resting a foot on the edge of the booth to hug my knee to my chest. “I am getting poorer by the second.”

“It says a lot about the three of you that you could be doing something more productive, like having your own hook-ups instead of paying attention to me and mine.”

Everett presses further into his side of the vinyl booth. “I have better things to do.”

“Then getting your dick sucked?” Dylan’s grin widens. “I think you’d be a little less grumpy if you were getting head regularly.”

My lips part to argue with him, wanting to defend Everett, but I’m cut short by Reid’s snort of laughter. “Reid,” I hiss, digging my elbow into his ribs.

“What? He’s right.”

Dylan takes Reid’s agreement as a victory of his own. “You know it’s got to mean something when Reid, of all people, is agreeing with me.”

“Not all of us want to walk around waving our dicks around,” Bekah chimes in.

Dylan snorts. “Did you just slut shame me, Beks?”

“I’m simply pointing out a fact,” she says, and I have to bite down on my lips to keep from laughing. My eyes dart over to Everett, who just rolls his eyes.

“A fact of my awesomeness? You’re right,” Dylan says, resting his arm over the back of the booth behind me. “Just because I like to keep things casual doesn’t mean I’m walking around waving my dick around. Thank you very much.”

“Something casual could be fun.”

The offhand comment falling from my lips pauses the entire conversation, bringing Reid’s focus off his book to gape at me. Regret from opening my mouth starts to seep in as they stare at me in disbelief before it bubbles into laughter, and I realize almost instantly that they think I’m joking. Not that they shouldn’t, because I’ve never been one for casual sex.

The proof of that is sitting right next to me, laughing the hardest, and it only brings forth the fire running through my veins to prove them wrong.

“Says the girl who left me high and dry in the middle of sex,” Dylan teases, leaning away when I raise my hand to slap his chest again. Despite how much I get teased about it, Dylan and I can agree that walking out on him was the best decision I could have made. We wouldn’t be friends right now if I hadn’t, and not many girls get to say they got a best friend out of a failed hook-up.

“Shut up!” I say with a light laugh. “You and I both know I did us a favor, but I’m serious! A casual hook-up could be fun.”

“Are you stating that as a fact or something you could see yourself doing?” Everett asks, arching an eyebrow in my direction.

I shrug. “I could have casual sex.”

Dylan hums next to me. “How exactly do you plan to do that when you already have a boyfriend?” he asks, trying and failing to hide the once again growing smile on his face.

A groan falls from my lips, about to argue with them when my phone buzzes against my hip. “You all need to get off that,” I say, digging my phone out of my front pocket. “Walker is not my boyfriend,” I tell them, but just the sight of his name on my phone screen makes me break out into a smile.

WALKER

Adam’s?

Bekah snickers, causing me to look up from the three pending dots dancing below his message. “Case and point,” she says, her hazel eyes bright as she points at my phone.

“He’s my friend.”

“He’s your boyfriend without the benefits of sex, Sunny,” Dylan argues and gets three hums of agreement from the rest of the group.

I roll my eyes. “That’s not true,” I say, my eyes dropping back to my phone when it buzzes in my hand.

My pie is missing a side of Sunny.

This time, when they laugh, I ignore it and twist to Reid. “Mind getting a ride home with Everett and Bekah and lending me your truck?” I ask with a pleading smile.

He doesn’t hesitate to pull his keys from his front pocket, dropping them into my waiting palm. “Say hi to Walker for all of us,” he teases, already knowing the reason for my sudden departure. It’s not the first time the comment of Walker being more than my friend has come up, but this is the first time sex has ever been brought up in relation to him.

Sure, maybe our relationship is a little different from my other friendships. Maybe there is a sexually charged tension between us on occasion. I’d have to be blind not to realize how attractive Walker is, and maybe my thoughts have drifted there a time or two, but the difference is, I have never acted on those thoughts.

We’re friends. And we’re going to stay that way. I’m absolutely certain of it.

Except all I can think about on the winding road to Adam’s Diner, a hidden secret in Millboro set up in a decommissioned train car, is what they said about Walker being my boyfriend without sex. A point I’ll argue if brought up again, but it doesn’t stop me from realizing just how long it’s been for me. I wasn’t lying when I said I thought casual sex could be fun. I might even go as far as to say it’d be good for me. With everything else going on in my life, between school and wanting to be the biggest support for my friends, a boyfriend just hasn’t been a priority.

Casual sex could be different, though. It could be something fun without the commitment, and if I’m being completely honest, I miss sex. It’s been so long since I’ve had an orgasm, not from myself and the help of my silicone friend, that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be that vulnerable with someone else. And I want that again.

Which is why when I step into Adam’s, my gaze is immediately drawn to my wavy-haired friend, and I realize the solution to my dilemma might be right in front of me.

As if feeling my eyes, he lifts his head, and his face immediately lights up, jutting his chin in greeting. A smile tugs at my lips on my way towards him, the kindling of a plan brewing beneath my skin, and Walker Bodie might just be the man to ignite it.