PROLOGUE #2
That girl is long gone, replaced with the woman next to me, guzzling whiskey from the bottle while dressed in the skimpiest of outfits that does nothing to hide the curvaceous body she seems to have grown into.
And my testosterone-riddled body is very aware of that.
Bella continues to drink and I frown, reaching for the bottle and prying it from her gently. “Easy now, doll.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, a droplet of whiskey spilling on her bottom lip before rolling down her chin.
I watch, captivated, as her tongue darts out, lapping up the liquid and I don’t even think before reaching out, catching the droplet on her chin with my thumb before bringing it to my mouth, sucking it clean.
I don’t know what possessed me to do that.
Clearly my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders tonight.
But I can’t find it in me to regret it when I see her reaction.
Bella’s lips part on a silent intake of breath, her marble grey eyes hooding, pupils blowing wide as they track my fingers, zoning in on my mouth.
The air in the room changes. It becomes charged, crackling like a force field of electricity.
The noise from the party below becomes a low buzz in the background as Bella shifts closer on the bed, her fishnet covered leg brushing against mine. Heat radiates from her body as she leans in, her whiskey coated breath mixing with mine in the space between us.
My attention flicks between her eyes and her lips, my own breaths coming in short pants that match hers as realisation dawns on me.
“Bella.” My voice is a low croak, but it holds the slightest warning.
It’s a warning that if she does this, there’s no going back. The line that had been drawn a long time ago will be crossed.
Grey eyes flick up to mine briefly and she wets her bottom lip, but she doesn’t stop leaning in.
She’s going to kiss me.
Bella Ashby. My best friend’s younger sister is currently in my bedroom and she’s leaning in to kiss me.
And I’m going to let her.
Because despite knowing that I’m playing with fire here, or the fact that I’m about to break an oath I made many years ago, I really want to fucking kiss her. Been thinking about it since I followed her into this bedroom and took one look at those sinful red lips.
Bella pauses, her mouth a millimetre from mine and I know she’s giving me chance to pull back; to put a stop to this entire thing right now before we cross that line.
And I should.
I should tell her that we can’t.
That it’s wrong, because Killian is my closest friend and this could destroy that. But the thing is, it doesn’t feel wrong at all.
Right here, right now, in this very moment, it feels extremely fucking right.
So instead of backing away from her, taking my drink and leaving the room, I bring my hand up to her face, my thumb landing in the centre of her chin as I close the distance between us and crush my lips against hers.
***
BELLA
My head pulsates to the rhythm of the marching band that seems to have taken up residence in my skull. I attempt to lick my dry lips, but my tongue seems to be glued to the roof of my mouth.
Groaning, I roll onto my side, my hand outstretched for the glass of water I take to bed with me every night, but instead of a bedside locker, I find nothing but air.
Keeping my eyes shut tight to avoid the blaring sun, I try again, this time over-reaching and sending myself tumbling off the edge of the bed, landing with an oomph against the hardwood floor.
My eyes fly open.
I don’t have hardwood floor.
I stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling as I mentally check off all the things that are wrong about this situation.
High, dark ceiling. Not mine.
Dark grey walls. Not mine.
Silk sheets. Also, not mine.
I look down at the t-shirt I’m dressed in. Definitely not mine.
Suddenly, it all comes rushing back.
Killian’s birthday party.
Natasha Carmichael accusing me of sleeping with her boyfriend in front of everyone.
Noah’s bedroom.
Noah.
The kiss.
His head between my thighs.
The sting as he pushed into me.
Oh shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
I had sex with Noah Calloway.
No. Scratch that. I didn’t just have sex with him.
Noah Calloway took my virginity.
With a speed I didn’t think I was capable of in this very moment, I pull myself up from the floor and stand over my brother’s best friends sleeping form.
His very naked sleeping form.
With a shaky hand, I reach out and nudge his shoulder. “Noah.”
A throaty groan escapes him, but his eyes don’t open and I let out a huff. I shift closer, holding back a wince when I feel a foreign ache between my thighs.
“Noah.” I try again.
“What?” He mumbles groggily, pulling a pillow over his face.
I chew on my nail, panic starting to creep in. “Wake up,” I whisper-yell at him.
Noah pulls the pillow off his face, squinting at me out of one eye, a tired smile on his face. “Morning, babybell.”
With wide, panic-stricken eyes, I stare down at him. “Why are you smiling right now? Do you realise what we’ve done?” I wave my arms around, gesturing between the two of us.
Noah only frowns slightly, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. “Yeah…” He drags out, confused. “We slept.”
Now it’s my turn to frown.
We slept?
“And…” I say, waiting for the penny to drop and preparing for him to have his own oh shit moment.
Only, the moment never comes.
Instead, Noah reaches over, grabbing a pair of sweats from the floor beside him before pulling them on and rising to his feet.
“You hungry?” He asks as if the two of us being in bed together, him naked and me barely clothed, is the most normal thing in the world.
“Am I hungry?” I repeat the question incredulously.
A small laugh escapes him as he watches me curiously, his hand moving to scratch his bare chest as he stretches. “Yeah, Bells. For food?”
I must look absolutely insane as I begin to pace. “No. I’m not fucking hungry, Noah. Do you seriously not remember?”
He tilts his head at me, a loose strand of hair falling across his forehead. “Remember what?”
I narrow my eyes, scanning his face for clues that he’s playing with me right now. But instead of his usual playful smile or the mischievous glint in his eye, he stares at me in plain confusion.
He really doesn’t remember.
The absolute clueless look in his eyes cracks something in my chest and I drop my shoulders in defeat. “Nothing.”
Suddenly, I feel dirty.
Was he seriously that drunk?
I glance over at the bottle of brown liquid on the dresser. It’s not empty, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t been drinking before following me up here.
Oh, God. What have I done?
“You sure?” He asks softly, breaking me out of my panicked thoughts and I nod in response, biting down on my bottom lip to keep it from trembling.
“I’m going to jump in the shower and then make some breakfast. I can drive you home afterwards, okay?”
With another nod from me, he exits the room, leaving me alone to spiral out of control.
I grip my hair tightly in my hands and pull hard.
“Oh my God. We had sex and he doesn’t even remember.
How could I let this happen?” I pace back and forth, the knot in my stomach tightening so much that I might vomit.
“I lost my virginity to a man that doesn’t remember taking it,” I ramble to myself, willing the emotions to stay bottled up until I get home.
I could go out there right now and tell him everything. I could demand that we talk about what happened between us last night and come up with a plan on what we tell my brother, if we tell him at all.
Oh fuck. My brother is gonna hate us.
I shake my head at myself.
No.
I can’t be the thing that ruins their friendship. And coming clean to Killian would be the very thing that does that. On the other hand, who say we would even have to tell Killian. It could just be something that happened between friends. A mistake.
I shake my head again, dismissing that thought.
There’s no way Noah would be able to lie to Killian like that. They’re far too close. And this would eat at Noah.
Or, you don’t say anything to Noah.
My pacing stops, an idea forming in my head.
If I keep the events of last night to myself, no one will ever have to know. I can live with knowing that the man I shared my first time with doesn’t remember it. I couldn’t live with myself if I took away the best friend my brother ever had.
Even if it means facing Noah every day for the rest of my life and pretending I don’t know what it feels like to have him inside me.