Chapter 12 #2
This time, I can’t hold it in, and I giggle as the rest of the table dissolves into laughter. For a second, Cash looks confused; then he realizes what he said and grins with a toss of his shoulders. I love a man who can laugh at himself. And with that, his hold on me grows tighter.
I’ve lost count of how many rounds we’ve played when the dice get set aside and everyone takes a break.
“You know, I have to admit, I’m not terribly impressed with your dice-playing skills,” I tease Cash. “Somehow I thought you’d be better, or at least more competitive.”
He folds his arms on the table and leans across it. “Shit, I thought so too. Turns out, I found something I care a little more about than dice.”
I’ve been close to him enough times now that his scent, when it hits me, stirs up memories so powerful I have to suppress a shiver. He’s the best kind of danger and the warmest kind of comfort.
But my smile dries up when I glance around the room.
Cam has his arm around Lenni as he feeds her a tortilla chip dripping with salsa.
Reeve is brushing something off Jade’s lip and staring at her like cartoon hearts are about to spill from his eyes.
And Lorenzo and Ruby, down the hall but still visible, are pressed up against the wall and look ready to shed a layer of clothing.
They’re exactly what Cash and I can never be, and it hits hard.
Harder still is the feeling that cuts through me knowing that, no matter how much the other girls talk like I’m going to be around forever, this is a couples’ thing.
Sooner or later Cash will meet the girl who fits here.
Suddenly my life feels like a mess of things that can never be.
I can’t have him. And in a few months, this life will be a distant memory.
I wish I could tell Maisy what I’m giving up for her.
Later, when it’s clear game night is winding down, Cash slips his hand around mine. “I want to show you something.”
The feel of his skin on mine means I can’t do anything but follow while he leads me out of the kitchen and around the corner, where a short hallway dead-ends at a half-closed door.
Inside is a small room that’s empty except for the pink cat tower from the hardware store, a bed, and a fuzzy gray pile of fur curled up in the middle of the bedspread.
The cat’s eyes inch open as Cash announces “Here she is,” and I’m unsure whether he’s introducing me to her or her to me.
“Is this the famous Mr. Jangles?”
“The one and only.”
I sit softly on the edge of the bed and extend my hand to the cat, who immediately rubs her cheek against my fingers. “Not shy, is she?”
“Like father, like daughter.”
“What a sweetheart. I always wanted a house full of pets growing up. The most I got was a bed full of stuffed animals, and I don’t even know what happened to them after my parents died.”
“You never had pets?”
I shake my head. “My mom was allergic to most of them. I remember the one part of moving in with my grandmother I was excited about was that she had a cat. He was a grouchy old thing and turned out to want nothing to do with me.”
“He sounds stupid. Jangles clearly knows what’s up.” He jerks his chin at the cat, who’s made herself cozy against my thigh and is purring contentedly. “In fact, I’m getting jealous.”
Turning to him, I find him taking in my body, and my skin heats like it’s his hands and not his gaze all over me.
He pushes off the wall and approaches with a look that makes my heart beat faster. At the edge of the bed, he takes a dominant stance, my thighs between his knees, and lifts my chin.
“You know,” he murmurs, “watching you tonight with my friends—the way everyone loves you—makes it really hard for me to give you what you asked for.”
“What’s that?”
“To be your friend and nothing more.”
I swallow, and he watches my throat ripple against his fingers.
“Is it hard for you?” he asks.
It’s impossible to ignore the proximity of his hips to my mouth, to take his words at face value and not in the way I want to take them. “You know it is.”
A lick of a smile lights his face. “It doesn’t have to be like this.” He bends over me, forcing me back on the bed—though when has Cash ever forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do?—and covering me.
The relief that comes with the weight of his body on top of mine is like letting out a long-held breath.
His hands press into the mattress on either side of me, but the way his gaze drifts down my body promises me he’s imagining running his hands over the same places his eyes travel.
When his lips touch mine, they’re alive with energy, every look and every touch exchanged tonight contained in his kiss.
But when he finally puts those hands I’ve been craving to my skin, they shock me back to reality.
I put a palm to his chest. “We can’t do this.”
“Why?”
“You know exactly why, Cash. Your sister.”
His fingers glide down my stomach, which clenches under his touch, a little ticklish. “My sister isn’t here.” At the button of my jeans, he pauses. “My sister doesn’t need to know.” He locks eyes with me and slides open the button, the soft pop setting off a feverish spike inside me.
My lashes flutter closed for a long second as I fight with myself, immersing my body in the addictive pleasure of him while summoning the strength to make it stop.
“My sister doesn’t tell me who to fuck.”
The raw, lustful sound that escapes me surprises me, but I don’t have energy left to care because it’s all going into the near-impossible task of not letting him undress me. His words so blunt and his voice so incredibly, toxically hot.
My eyes open to find a smirk tugging at his lips.
“You like when I say that.”