11 #2
I quickly moved my arms further up, trying to cover myself, feeling my cheeks flush crimson with embarrassment.
I didn’t want to seem like one of those girls who threw themselves at him.
But Nash’s eyes didn’t leave mine. They were still dark, burning with an intensity that left me breathless.
And then there it was—his signature smirk, the one that made women lose their minds.
He was so stupidly gorgeous, and I was in so much trouble.
I bit my lip, unsure of what to do or say next. He’d always affected me, but never like this. It was embarrassing, and I felt vulnerable in a way I hadn’t expected.
I didn’t want to be just another girl falling at his feet, like all the others.
Then his voice—lower, huskier than before—cut through the tension. “Please, Kenny, go out with me?”
I blinked. “I don’t know . . .” My response was slow, my mind trying to process what he was asking.
Nash rose from the edge of the couch and crossed the space between us. Despite his size and strength, his movements were smooth and deliberate. He stopped in front of me, and I tilted my chin up to meet his eyes.
“Please, Kennedy,” he said softly, placing his large, warm hands on my shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Let me take you out . . . on a date.”
“On a date?” My breath caught in my throat.
My eyes widened as they flew up to his. He wasn’t smirking anymore.
His lips were pressed tightly together, and for the first time in a long while, Nash looked almost .
. . nervous. The swirling emotions in his deep-green eyes held me captive, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak or look away.
“Yes, Kenny,” he confirmed, his voice low and steady. “A date.”
I inhaled sharply. Nash, the boy I’d dreamed about since I was too young to know what a crush even meant, wanted to take me on a date? A real date? My heart pounded, and I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me.
“Ken?” he coaxed gently.
“Okay,” I whispered, barely able to find my voice.
“Okay,” he repeated, his face breaking into the most gorgeous smile I’d ever seen.
My stomach flipped as his hand gently brushed my face.
His touch felt electric, like it seared into my skin, branding me with a sensation I didn’t want to end.
He made me feel like an inexperienced teenager again, and no matter how much I tried to compose myself, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Nash’s thumb traced my bottom lip slowly, and I forgot how to breathe.
The look in his eyes shifted, turning darker. Hungrier.
I watched him lick his lips. My body buzzed with anticipation, every part of me drawn to him.
When Nash finally leaned in, his face inches from mine, I caught the faint scent of his cologne mixed with beer on his breath. My lips parted on an exhale.
Waiting.
Wanting.
Desperate for what came next.
Just as I closed my eyes, anticipating Nash’s kiss, the front door flew open with a loud bang.
Sammy and Keith stumbled in, both beyond drunk and completely oblivious to the fact that Nash and I were standing in the living room.
They were wrapped up in each other, with Sammy already halfway out of her green army jacket.
She pulled her other arm out and threw the jacket on the floor while Keith wrestled out of his coat, not very gracefully.
As soon as it fell to the floor next to Sammy’s, he grabbed hold of her, pushed her up against the wall, and kissed the shit out of her while the door slammed shut behind them.
“Oh my God,” I muttered in complete disbelief.
I watched in horror as Keith and Sammy grabbed at each other, pulling at each other’s clothes.
Nash seemed almost as startled as I was.
He stood next to me, his hand on my arm, as we both stared at the scene unfolding by the front door.
When Keith’s sweater ended up on the floor, leaving him bare-chested in front of Sammy, and she started to unbutton his pants, I freaked out.
What. The. Fuck.
I dragged Nash with me into my room, quickly closing the door behind us.
“What the hell was that?” I hissed, glaring up at him as if it was somehow his fault that Sammy and her new boyfriend didn’t have the decency to make sure the room was empty before starting to undress each other.
Nash just shrugged, clearly amused by my arm-flailing frustration.
“Are they serious?” I continued, still glaring at him, but this time he just walked over to the bed, that same knowing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He patted the space next to him.
“Come on,” he said.
I let out a huff but followed him, sitting down beside him with a dramatic sigh.
He knew exactly how uncomfortable I was, and in typical fashion, I’d lashed out instead of dealing with the embarrassment.
Nash was used to it, though—he’d seen it since we were kids.
I was either a ball of frustration or I withdrew completely when I felt awkward.
“Relax, Ken. It’s not that bad,” Nash teased, nudging me gently with his shoulder.
“How did they not see us?” I demanded again, like Nash would know.
“They were a little busy trying to get each other’s clothes off,” he responded nonchalantly, like it was no big deal.
“Thank you, Sherlock, that wasn’t obvious at all,” I snapped, rolling my eyes.
Nash just chuckled, clearly unfazed by my tone. “At least we made it in here in time. You’d be way more uncomfortable if we had stayed out there,” he said, nodding toward the door, that grin still firmly in place.
I groaned, knowing he was right but still feeling annoyed.
“It’ll be okay,” Nash reassured me.
“Really? They’re on the couch!” I hissed. “They had to stop at the couch? They couldn’t manage another five steps to her room?” I gestured wildly toward the wall that separated our rooms. “It’s right there!”
Nash didn’t respond, but his grin grew wider. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. “It’ll be okay, Kennedy. Maybe it’s just a temporary stop on the way—”
Before he could finish, we were interrupted by a loud, unmistakable female moan, followed by an equally loud male grunt. I squealed and buried my face in Nash’s chest.
“Oh fuck, that feels so good, babe,” Keith’s voice boomed from the living room. I was completely mortified to be stuck in my room listening to my best friend hooking up—and worse, listening with Nash sitting right next to me.
“Oh my God,” I whimpered when another loud moan echoed through the apartment. There was nowhere to go, no escape from the situation, and no way to distance myself from Nash. Sammy and Keith were literally right outside my door.
My room was small, and having Nash in there with me made it seem even smaller, his presence somehow amplifying the awkwardness of the moment. The only small mercy was that it was dark enough that he couldn’t see how red my cheeks had turned.
Another long, drawn-out moan filled the air, and I stiffened in pure embarrassment. “Kill me now,” I muttered under my breath.
I felt Nash’s body move as he quietly laughed.
Then, to my surprise, he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and gently rubbed his hand down my back.
It was probably meant to comfort me and calm me down, but Nash’s warm, muscular body wrapped around mine—while I was in nothing but an old T-shirt and a thong—along with the intimate sounds from the living room, was having a very different effect.
My body was responding, and I could feel myself getting more aroused with every passing second.
I clenched my legs together, silently praying for it to stop and for this night to just end.
“Oh yeah, go deeper,” Keith’s voice rang out again from the living room.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I muttered, cringing. “I really don’t want to know what they’re doing.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s blowing him,” Nash remarked nonchalantly.
“Nash!” I groaned, but he just chuckled.
Another loud grunt from outside made Nash smirk. “Yep, definitely sucking him off.”
I pulled out of Nash’s arms, trying to shoot him a stern look despite the dim light.
I could practically feel his face split into that breathtaking grin of his, and it took everything in me not to just turn around and kiss him like I’d never kissed anyone before.
His good looks, his impressive body, the closeness and his scent—it was all overwhelming.
Add in the few drinks I’d had earlier, and the fact that we were hiding on my bed to avoid my roommate’s very loud activities, and I was barely holding it together.
I tried to steady my breathing, but the sounds coming from the living room were too much—erotic and way too intimate.
“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” Keith’s voice boomed again.
“Oh my God, no,” I begged, diving under the covers like I was five years old and hiding from monsters. The bed dipped as Nash followed my lead, lying down between me and the wall. His broad chest pressed against my back as he wrapped his arm around my waist, spooning me.
Finally, when the noise from the other side of the wall died down, I pushed the covers off with a relieved sigh. Nash peered down at me with that familiar, amused smirk that made my heart race.
“Thank God, it’s over,” I muttered, just in time for Sammy to shout, “Oh yeah, right there.”
“What the fuck!” I threw my hands up in frustration, and Nash cracked up again.
“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what they’re doing,” he whispered teasingly in my ear, his warm breath fanning over my throat and sending a shiver down my spine.
“Nash,” I whispered, trying to sound stern and unaffected.
“I’m just keeping it real,” he said with a grin, but he loosened his grip around my waist. “Do you mind if I take my shirt off? It’s getting hot in here.”
It was getting hot, but I was pretty sure it had everything to do with him and nothing to do with the room temperature.
Then it hit me—he was going to take his shirt off. That meant abs. Hard, muscular, perfectly sculpted, lickable abs . . .
Oh. My. God.