Chapter 22
“Mrs. Delucca suggested I audition for a few college programs.”
I’m broaching this subject during an extremely rare dinner with both Mom and Dad, which I know is a risk.
“Who the fuck is Mrs. Delucca? And what kind of college programs? I thought you had decided on applying to the Ivies for business.” My dad sips his whiskey, waiting for my reply.
“My theater teacher, Dad. She says I have a lot of potential and should consider applying to some colleges with good acting programs.”
“Like hell you will.” And with that, the conversation is over.
Mom remains silent.
After putting that vibrator to good use, Bex and I spend the rest of the morning drinking coffee, making pancakes, and talking with Luci and Riz, who seem entirely too excited about the possibility of me and Bex being together. I would be right there with them, but every time one of them makes a comment, Bex immediately shoots over one of her famous death glares.
I know Bex has concerns, but after a while, all of the narrowed eyes and the “I’ll kill you” hand-across-throat gestures when she thinks I’m not looking, really hurts a guy”s feelings. That and I know it’s time to face the music with Gabe. I mean, not all of the music, but I need to make an appearance at the apartment and give him some excuse for why I didn’t come home last night.
I finish putting up the last breakfast dish in the dishwasher and turn around. Clearing my throat, I say, “Well, I should probably head out.”
Bex begins to nod like she expected this and I really don’t like the feeling that gives me. I’m trying to exceed her expectations here, not meet them. “Yeah, of course. Let me grab your things from my room.”
I say a quick goodbye to Luci and Riz and follow Bex into the bedroom.
“Hey,” I whisper, which seems dumb because why am I whispering? But Bex appears freaked out by us and the events of the last twenty-four hours, which causes my primal instincts to kick in, telling me to lower my voice and approach her slowly.
“What’s up?” she asks, and I can tell she’s trying to be casual.
“I just wanted to check on you. I know this morning has been a lot.”
She huffs a laugh-sigh but then quickly schools her features, shrugging one shoulder. “Actually pretty normal behavior coming from Gabe. No big deal.”
“Right… no big deal.” I furrow my brow, unsure how to continue. How to say everything I want her to hear. “Let me try to be as clear as I can here. I don’t really want to leave and go back to my apartment to hang out with the wrong Bardot sibling.” I chance a step toward her and she lets me.
“What I want is to cuddle back up in bed. Watch a movie. Hold you. Get up for sustenance before burrowing back into our own cocoon. But I know that’s not what friends with benefits do. And I know that you need some processing time, so I’m going to give it to you.” I’m right up against her now, so I reach up and brush my thumb across her bottom lip.
There are so many other things I want to say, but she isn’t ready yet. She still needs the fun, unserious side of Anders. The side the rest of the world gets.
I bend down, pressing my lips against her throat before I blow a big raspberry right against her skin. She laughs that big boisterous laugh of hers that doesn’t come out often and shoves me away.
“You are crazy! I’m fine, and you’re right, you should probably go home.” Her mouth curls into a smirk. “Thanks for last night. And this morning. I would eventually like for you to get some benefits from this friendship, too, you know?”
She doesn’t realize that that’s not happening. God, do I want to be with Bex, but not this way. I want to take her knowing that she’s mine for real, not as a part of this little game we’re playing.
“I know, I know,” I say, kissing her on the nose before gathering my things. I grab her hand and pull her toward the front door. When we get there, I push her back up against it, sliding my hand up to gently cup her throat.
She lets out the smallest of whimpers and my ego grows along with my dick. Our lips meet in a passionate kiss that is only broken up by a wolf whistle coming from behind me. I pull away and turn to wink at the forgotten roommates. “Sorry, ladies! I’ll be going now.”
“Please don’t stop on our account!” Riz jokes.
I turn back to Bex and give her one more peck because I can’t help myself. She’s so dazed that I have to physically move her from in front of the door before I can get out.
“Bye, killer,” she says with a small wave.
Gabe isn’t at the apartment—he’s probably still looking for a family member that wants to hang out with him—so I kill some time by gathering my things that have been haphazardly left around. Gabe is pretty laid back about his space and after getting diagnosed with ADHD when I left New York, I’m thankful for that. My stuff tends to land where it lands, which is not ideal, especially when I can never find my car keys, but I’ve tried every tip and trick in the book to no avail.
Once the apartment looks semi-decent, I decide to hop in the shower. Closing the bathroom door, I reach in and turn the hot knob all the way up, barely cranking the cold to balance it out. I need a scalding hot shower to keep my mind off of Bex long enough to clean myself off.
I let the steam clouds begin to billow around me as I shuck my clothes off into a pile on the cold tile floor. Taking a deep inhale, I lean in close to the mirror.
“What the fuck are you doing, Anders?” I ask my reflection. It seems silly, but I have always found it helpful to talk out loud to myself whenever there’s a lot going on.
He doesn’t know the answer to my question so I lean my face against the mirror, taking a second to ground myself. What do I feel, hear, see?
Cool tiles pricking like ice against my feet.
The intense torrent of water hitting the bottom of the shower.
Clear, smooth skin across my face.
I run my hand across my cheeks, realizing for the first time today how buttery soft my skin feels. Damn, Bex’s skincare is nice.
I push off the mirror and put my foot under the spray of water. It immediately burns my skin, turning it a deep shade of red.
Perfect.
I quickly bring the rest of my body under the water, savoring the feeling of each drop pelting my skin. I go through my motions of washing my hair before adding a dollop of body wash to my loofa. I try really, really hard not to linger around my cock, but when my body remembers the whimper that came out of Bex’s mouth right before I left her this morning, I’m instantly hard again.
This is the most intense version of edging.
I can’t hold back anymore as I think about the slide of her body under mine. What her hips would feel like, slick with body wash, as I pushed her up against the shower wall and lowered to my knees.
I think about what she tastes like as my hand roams slowly up and down my shaft, flicking my wrist in a slight turn at the head. I think about hearing her moan as I turn her around and put her hands up against the shower tiles. As I slowly push into her from behind, hands gripping her sweet ass when she backs onto my cock.
My hand continues to work as I think about what it would feel like to lean over and take her ear between my teeth, lightly tugging so her head falls back and exposes her throat—a perfect line that goes from her collarbone all the way up to her chin, begging me to mark it as mine.
I brace myself against the shower wall with one hand while the other tugs almost violently up and down. The image of Bex clenching around me as my name spills out of her mouth makes my come spill right along with the visual. I wring out every last drop, thinking of her perfect lips. Her perfect everything.
My forehead hits the shower wall in an effort to calm my breathing down. I hope Bex comes around to the idea of dating soon, or I’m about to become very well acquainted with my right hand. It’ll be like middle school all over again.
I finish rinsing off and hop out of the shower. My phone immediately catches my eye, lighting up with a text. Hoping it’s the woman starring in my fantasies, I towel off at lightning speed before grabbing my phone and swiping it open.
Three texts from my father are waiting for me.
Erik Olsson
I saw your RSVP for the gala.
Don’t forget that plus one.
Dick will be there too. The three of us should catch up.
Dick is the name of Erik’s financial advisor, and let’s just say, his name is fitting. My father’s texts are alluding to discussions about my inheritance, and even though he knows I don’t want any of it and haven’t since the day I left their house, he continues to hold it over me anyway like it means anything.
I sigh, closing my phone without responding. My thoughts turn to the gala and whether or not I should go. I want to take Bex, I realize. I want to see her experience the city—a fancy night of dressing up and pretending to be something we aren’t.
I just want to spend time with her.
I’m sitting on the couch contemplating how to broach the subject with her when Gabe barrels through the door. And that is truly the only way to describe how Gabe moves, you can’t miss him when he enters a room.
“Heyyyy, loverboy!” He greets me by throwing his arms open wide, walking across the room, and leaning down to give me a noogie, ruffling my drying hair.
I throw my arms up in defense. “What the fuck! Get off me!”
“Where were you last night? Huh? Last I saw you, you were taking Bex home for her, you know—” He leans in and whispers, “Girl stuff. And then you disappeared. Did someone call you for a hookup? It’s been a while.”
God, he’s got the worst case of word vomit this morning.
“First of all, don’t call your sister’s period ‘girl stuff.’ Grow up and learn about the female body. Second of all, I don’t kiss and tell,” I say with a shit eating grin. There’s a part of me that actually finds it hilarious that it doesn’t even cross Gabe’s mind that I stayed at Bex’s place last night.
“Yeah well, Bex had some fun of her own last night,” he shudders. “I stopped by this morning and she definitely had a dude in her room.”
Even though I know that dude was me, the thought of another guy in her room has me feeling alarmingly possessive. Instead of acting on that irrational thought, I throw Gabe off our trail a little bit.
“Is that so? Baby Bardot is getting some? Good for her.” It is also absolutely good for me, is what I don’t add.
He makes a gagging sound. “Can we not?! That’s my sister we’re talking about.”
I huff a laugh before testing my luck just a bit. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t actually care if Bex was seeing someone, would you?” Be chill, Anders.
He shrugs. “I guess not. I want her to be happy and I definitely didn’t like that doucher she was dating before.” He pops up from where he had sagged down into the couch cushions. “Oh shit. I hope she’s not sleeping with that fucker again. He was sooooo”—he drags this out entirely too long—“boring. If it’s him, I would definitely care.”
I’m torn between laughing about Gabe’s boring comment—the guy was probably pretty normal—and this weird feeling of… longing? I hate that any man had a chance to be with Bex… to possibly break her heart or hurt her in any way.
“What happened between them?” I ask.
“You know, I’m not totally sure. She wouldn’t really talk about it afterwards. Except with Jules. They always go to each other when one of them is feeling moody.”
I surreptitiously pull out my phone and add that piece of information to my “Bex” note.
“Alright, I’m done talking about my sister’s love life. It’s a beautiful day—doesn’t happen often in February in Massachusetts. Want to go down to the park and toss around the football?”
“Sure, Gabe. It would be a damn shame to waste the day away,” I say, tucking my phone away.
And we don’t. We throw the ball for a bit before joining an impromptu yoga class featuring a mix of townies and college students. When Gabe starts a contest to see who can hold a tree pose the longest, all I can think about is how much I value our friendship. His playfulness is contagious and has brought me out of many funks over the years. I’m grateful for him on days like today.
I hope I don’t fuck that up.