Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Bailey
“Wrench. That one.” A long, toned hand with the most deliciously inked forearm attached to it extended from my teensy bathroom.
The forearm matched a pair of unlaced work boots sticking out from under my ensuite benchtop when I peered into the tiny room.
A deep baritone emanated from beneath the sink. “I need more tape.”
“Got it.” I leaned back to scrabble in Jesse’s organized toolbox, tossed the wrench into his open palm, and followed up with plumber’s tape a moment later.
His grasping hand retracted. I watched the roll of white tape sail through the half open doorway his bulk filled and disappear.
“Ow. Why are you abusing me when I’m helping you?” His disembodied voice reverberated through my townhouse when the tape landed on his stomach dead centre.
I smiled. “Because I’m your bestie, and it’s my responsibility to ensure you have a solid reality check every now and then.”
“Even when I’m fixing your leaky fucker of a sink for the millionth time?
” He emerged from the en suite, sitting up and draping his arms loosely around his knees.
Deep brown eyes with smudges around his dark skin stared back at me.
“Seriously, Bay. I’m a lacrosse player, not a plumber.
And you, rich girl, have enough money to hire a team of tradesmen.
” Jesse wore his trademark lopsided grin that always set off butterflies in my stomach despite his harsh words, and I knew he didn’t mean it.
Kinda.
And as I had always for our current two year stint at Rippton U, ignored them.
Bailey Messer, law student and dating coward.
Especially when it came to my bestie and hottie lacrosse Rippton U Allstar, Jesse Lawrence.
Hell, I was so much a coward that when Jesse moved in with me at the beginning of our first year at college, I wrote up a set of ten impenetrable rules to protect the house virtue.
“I mean, you have to make up for me setting you up with Annie.”
Thou shalt be thy wing woman to the best of thoust’s ability regardless of thy’s own needs.
Jesse grimaced, his straight nose wrinkling.
“Seriously, that's your take? The girl was a limpet. If she wasn’t sucking face, her Hoover of a mouth was attacking other parts of my anatomy. I still bear the marks.” His hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans and flicked at the button, lifting his shirt just enough to display a section of dark, ripped abs and the hint of a vee leading into shadowed areas I’d seen flashes of over the years.
Saliva collected around my tongue.
Thou shalt not drool on thy’s hottie bestie.
I shrieked and covered my face in a show of complete farce, making a liar of my inner voice. “My eyes!”
Jesse laughed, and something bounced off the back of my hand.
I peeked through my fingers, watching the same roll of tape I’d thrown at him bounce harmlessly across the floor. Eliciting growling noises, I picked it up and waved it, threateningly. “Seriously?” I mocked, repeating him.
Jesse sent me a look. “You know, I can finish up here. I mean, the drip is only losing what, a litre an hour? I’m sure you’ll cope, rich girl.” He made as though to get up.
I flung myself at him, tape and all. Maybe it had other uses? “No way are you going anywhere. I’ll handcuff you to it.”
He grabbed both my wrists, twisting them in a pretzel until I found myself on my back, my arms secured behind while I wiggled like a turtle stuck on its shell.
“What a sexy little picture you make laid out like that.”
Wait. That wasn’t one of my rules listed on the refrigerator.
My chest heaved, but not from exertion. Heat emanated from one body to another, Jesse’s weight pressed over me.
That wasn’t the only thing pressed to me, and suddenly two pairs of jeans seemed like very little material when one person lived on a vegetarian diet and the other ate everything in my damn house, even when he shared the rent but was never home to be worth of being on my lease.
Then the penny dropped and the implications of what Jesse just said percolated around my mind.
Apparently I wasn’t the only one, as neither of us spoke again for a minute, staring at each other.
Then my mouth dropped open in a delayed reaction worth of a Darwin Award. “Wh–at?” I dragged the syllable out, unwilling to tug myself free of Jesse’s grasp. He was so cute and warm and–
“I said that, huh?” Jesse’s trademark lopsided smile returned in full force, and way too close.
What a sext little picture you make.
His voice, so close, rolled around my head and blocked out the rest of the world, and all my crazy, internal chatter for a full five seconds before my version of normalcy—fine, insanity—returned.
We promised not to do this.
Fortunately that little comment stayed inside my head. Or perhaps unfortunately.
“Yeah. Maybe find a filter. Or something. Perhaps it’s in my leaky bucket,” I added helpfully, squirming a little as Jesse spun us in a dizzying whirlwind so I perched on his lap with my hands still trapped at my lower back.
“Nope.” He freed one hand to tuck my hair behind my ear, his touch lingering on my cheek. “No filter to be had.” But his mouth closed with a snap that reverberated through my bones.
“Oh, really?” I wiggled again, continuing our regular banter as though his comment meant nothing—lie—and both hating and loving his all too easily amused smile playing at the corners of his lips.
That smile sank bone deep, though his eyes hooded for half a second before I pulled my fingers free and dug them beneath his ribs.
Because we were playing, right? Sexy comments aside, that’s all this was. Him, playing it up at me. And So I reacted the same way, going straight on the attack and ignoring the sexy-bestie-lap that I perched upon
“Oof!” Jesse writhed, wrestling me away and pushed me forward. “That’s a pretty sight.”
I wiggled my ass, taking that momentum to spin away from him, glad that I faced my doorway instead as my cheeks overheated at his compliment. “Whatever you say, Mister Lacrosse-I’m-not-a-plumber.”
“Damn right.” His hand connected with the curve of my butt in a resounding smack that left me lurching forward.
I clawed the ground that rushed up at me with the intent of not face planting.
Survival was not my best physical skill.
A strangled sound I couldn't prevent tore from my throat as I attempted to roll and managed only in tangling my feet together as a full wave of heat and other sensations slammed into me butt first.
“You bully!”
I pretended mock-outrage while attempting not to let my moan become a reality.
My latest new-to-me fetish had been spanking videos—sue me for finding a few minutes of pleasure between a leaky bathroom that wouldn’t quit, not perving on my bestie, and law quizzes for the end of semester while I studied for the encroaching midyear exam block.
Finally untangling my lags while Jesse sat above me not bothering to hide his hilarity at my floor bound humiliation, I smoothed my skater dress over my tights.
Even though I flushed the color of an overripe tomato, I was glad I’d worn them since the dress bunched around my waist from our play time, and rolled back to face the consequences of my not-crushing, and Jesse.
All I found was a pair of unlaced, work worn boots and half a set of washboard abs on display while he went back to work.
That wasn’t disappointing at all.
Only it was, but also, this was the safe version. The version I knew. Horsing around with Jesse was safe. That was the pint. We had our rules—my rules—and we played around because nothing ever happened.
Boring, platonic. Safe.
No touching, looks only.
The same deal we shook on during orientation week that sealed our fates for the next two years.
I got a housemate and study buddy who kicked me out of my bed with the alluring scent of black ambrosia each morning when he left for training, and I provided him with a barrier from the overly enthusiastic fans who climbed his body like a bridge walk and gave him an excuse not to live in the Kingsmen frat house with the rest of the lacrosse team was required to do.
Like most of the Allstar frat boys, Jesse came from big money.
To attend Rippton U, it was a basic requirement.
Unlike any of them, he hadn’t been born to it.
Fees were tithed annually from our personal bank accounts and the alumni—our parents—contributed to other parts of campus life, like Rippton’s plethora of societies and sports teams. Jesse wasn’t alone; both our families attended Rippton in their heyday.
Which was how we both knew of the stories of what went on in those frat houses, and why we both wanted to stay as far from them as possible.
Hence our deal and living arrangements.
Simple.
Until it wasn’t.