I'll Take the Sofa

Chapter 1

Nick

“How much beer did you bring?” I ask Dean as he loads box after box into the back of Steve’s truck.

“What? It’s a long weekend. I wanted to make sure we were stocked up.”

“For what? An apocalypse?” Steve asks.

“Shut up. What did you bring?”

Steve holds up two bottles, both Scotch. “Much more compact. I assumed Nick would bring the bourbon.”

I hold up the one bottle of bourbon by the neck before loading it into the truck. It’s a long weekend, but I plan to enjoy it, not drink so much that I forget it. I think Dean’s trying to forget his divorce more than anything.

I try not to judge. I’ve been there too. I guess the difference was that my divorce was mutual. Sarah and I didn’t fit. We tried to make it work, but it just didn’t. She hated my cabin. She hated camping and being in nature. For me, that’s my happy place, where I truly relax.

Don’t ask me how we thought that would work. I had a crush on her in high school when my best friend started dating her best friend. I thought it was meant to be, but she played hard to get.

Then my best friend married her best friend. At the wedding, we hooked up, but we lived in different states, so that was all there was to it. But when she moved back to California from Washington, and Lia’s mom, Kim, asked me to help her settle in, well, that was all it took.

But I’d been looking at Sarah through lust goggles since high school.

I guess that blinded me to the fact that we weren’t a good fit.

She’d been a bit of a princess back then, but those things didn’t really click into place until we started spending weekends apart because I didn’t want to go shopping and get pedicures and she didn’t want to go kayaking or biking at my cabin.

The only biking Sarah does is in an air-conditioned gym for spin class. So she’s in great shape, but not the one for me. Sarah told me to keep the bike I bought her and save it for when I found someone who wanted to use it. It was still in the one-car garage of the cabin, collecting dust.

Still, my divorce had been a breeze compared to Dean’s. Amber has never been one of my favorite people, but she’s been dragging out the divorce, and we all know it. Every time they reach an agreement, she asks for more.

Dean makes even more than I do, but I have a feeling he’s going to walk away with less. Then again, Sarah has her own career and her own money. She wasn’t interested in mine.

Amber has spent the last five years maxing out Dean’s credit cards as she tried to become a social media influencer. She bought new clothes and purses, and jewelry, and was always dressing Dean up for pictures.

Finally, he refused to be trotted around like a show pony. Amber was more concerned with the fact that her ten thousand followers would think he left her because he wasn’t in her ‘grid’, so she left him for some bodybuilder she met at the gym who had his own following.

Guess they combined their following. Unfortunately, neither of them makes enough to actually support themselves, so adding them together doesn’t really change much.

“Let’s head out,” I say as I close the tailgate of Steve’s truck.

I’m pulling the boat, so we load Steve’s truck down with all the other supplies. Dean hops in the passenger seat of my truck, beer already in hand. Good thing I was planning on driving the whole way. It takes less than two hours to get there.

“Rough week?” I ask as we get on the highway.

“You have no idea. Though I finally figured out what it is Amber wants.”

“You mean besides money?”

Dean snorts. “She wants the house, so technically she wants more money.”

“The house? No way. She’s got balls, I’ll give her that.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

“So she asked for the house? Didn’t her lawyer tell her she couldn’t have anything in the trust?”

“She didn’t ask for it with words. I caught her doing a photo shoot in the front yard like she still lives there. And the funniest part, she was pretending to be gardening.”

I chuckle at that. “I can’t imagine Amber getting her hands dirty on purpose.”

“Exactly. I’m saving money since we separated. I’m probably saving enough to pay for the divorce.”

“As long as you don’t give her the house.”

“Like that’ll ever happen.”

“So what did she say when you caught her?” I flick my gaze over to him in time to see him roll his eyes.

“She acted like it was no big deal. She said something about it being half hers until the divorce was final. Good thing I changed the locks, or I probably would have found her doing a photo shoot inside. Though part of me hopes she tries to take pictures in the backyard.”

“Why?”

“Because then she’ll see that I got rid of all the furniture she bought. My sister helped me sell it and replace it with stuff that’s more comfortable.”

“Thank fuck. That stuff was awful.”

“Yeah. I feel like the house is finally mine again.”

Dean designed the house himself. It’s on a plot of land that his grandparents left him in their will, so he’s not giving that up. He told her that upfront, so I guess she kept using a bunch of crazy tactics hoping she’ll finally wear him down.

He keeps me entertained with more of her antics while I drive the rest of the way. And I’m happy to see that he doesn’t even finish one beer in the two hours it takes us to get to the lake.

“Whose car is that?” Dean asks as we pull up the long, winding driveway to my cabin.

“I don’t know.”

My cabin has a one-car garage, but it’s stuffed full with gear. Kayaks, paddle boards, mountain bikes, a four-wheeler, even a wave runner, but no car. I wonder if someone’s lost.

As my truck roars up the driveway, I see that the car is clearly empty. I put the truck in park and jump out.

“I’m going to check this out. Are you sober enough to call 9-1-1 if someone’s breaking into my cabin?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’ve had exactly one beer in the last two hours.”

I chuckle as I walk up the path to the house. I check the handle on the front door. It isn’t locked, so I step inside. I hear water running through the pipes.

As I walk down the hall, I hear a voice — a feminine voice — humming. The sound seems like it’s coming from the master bathroom, the one in my bedroom.

Since the person is otherwise occupied, I didn’t even try to be quiet. A large suitcase lay on my bed, open wide with clothes spilling from all corners. Not exactly a clean burglar.

I open the door to the bathroom and pull in a sharp breath. Even though I’ve never seen her naked, I know immediately who’s in my shower.

I’d recognize that long, burnished brown hair anywhere.

My eyes trail down her body, following the cascade of water.

She’s shapely, more rounded than Kim has ever been.

More curvy and more muscular, too. Her ass is two perfect globes that jiggle slightly as she lathers her hair with shampoo. My shampoo.

I can’t see her full breasts, just the round profile. Her nipples are soft, little pink caps. Her tits bounce with her movements. They’re high and full, reminding me that she’s only nineteen and that I should not be sporting a tent in my pants right now, but I am.

She’s always been a beautiful girl, always getting second looks from boys.

But I haven’t seen her in almost four years.

I still talk to Ray, but he and Jamie moved to Philadelphia, so I don’t see them in person often anymore.

In fact, I still see Sarah more often than I see Ray because we work in the same industry. But I haven’t seen Lia in years.

Maybe that’s a good thing since she’s become such a bombshell. The water turns off and I realize that I’ve been standing here ogling her for the past two minutes. As she turns and reaches for the towel, she spots me.

Her eyes grow wide with fear, and she screams before she recognizes me. As casually as I can, I cover my dick with my hands so she won’t notice I’m hard and scream louder.

She’s facing me now, which is an even better view than her profile. Her hands automatically went to her breasts, but that leaves her pussy bare to my gaze. And speaking of bare, that’s exactly what her pussy is, not a hair to be seen.

Am I a dick for lusting after my best friend’s daughter? Probably.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice more gruff than I intended. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes on her face.