without hesitation, and Charlie inhales
sharply. She twists, and smirks at her friend. “Why does that surprise you?”
“Because—you. Him.” She flounders, “Why the hell would you fuck
him if you’re scared of him?”
So many reasons. For a second, all of it is on the tip of her
tongue, and she wants to tell Charlie everything that is the history between
her and Jacobs.
Instead she shoves down the urge and grins at her friend. Shrugs.
“You fucked him. He’s a-fucking-mazing in bed. That’s reason enough, isn’t it?”
She nudges Charlie with one toe. “Come on. Admit it.”
A flush colors her cheeks, and Charlie nods. “Yeah. He was
amazing. I haven’t come that hard in years.”
“Tre didn’t do it for you?”
Charlie shrugs one shoulder. “He was fucking other women. A couple
paralegals at the firm. Hard to get into shit when you know he’s been
cheating.” She breaks off, and her eyes widen.
“Don’t,” EJ says. “Jacobs is the one who fucked up. We aren’t
together—but he knows how I feel about him fucking with my friends. I’m not
pissed at you. So don’t, ok? Let’s just forget it and enjoy tonight.”
Charlie nods slowly, and EJ leans over the bar, grabbing a bottle
of vodka and pouring some into her almost empty glass.
“And that, my gorgeous girl, means we’re going to get fucking
wasted,” EJ lifts a glass and grins.
Charlie smirks, and raises her glass to clink them together.
“Sounds perfect.”
Chapter 12
There is something warm and hard pressed
against her and her head pounds.
She squint and winces, her eyes closing
tight against the too bright sun streaming in.
The warm pressure against her back
moves, pulling her farther back into it.
"It's too early to wake up, Ellie.”
It’s the Ellie. What he always called her when he let his guard down. Despite
all of her anger and the pounding in her head. Despite the reasons why she
should push him away and all the ways
she fears him, hearing Jacobs’ voice, sleep rough and warm in her ear, makes her melt against him.
She squirms around, putting her back to
the sun and blinking at him. It never does any good for her to see him like
this. Sleep rumpled, a peaceful look on his face, stubble on his jaw that she
wants to rub against. Without letting herself think about it, she reaches for
him, burrowing into his chest, holding onto his shoulder. He pulls her closer
with one arm, tossing a leg over her hips. Soft lips brush against her hair and
she has to blink hard to push down the idiotic tears that want for rise.
She inhales the scent that clings to him
and wrinkles her nose at the smell of smoke and stale alcohol. Slowly, the
night filters back.
They ended up at a bar on Bourbon.
Charlie was sloppy drunk, laughing and flirting with everything that moved, all
of the ice queen bitch washed away by whiskey and vodka. Once, early in the
night, she coaxed EJ onto a stage and they sang some shitty song in a shitty
karaoke bar, both of them collapsing into laughter before they got through the
first verse.
Jacobs had watched, strangely patient
through every bar and every shot, even when they snorted lines of blow with
Josh on a dingy apartment balcony, overlooking the street.
Jacobs was never that patient, and he is
never gentle. Not like this, waking up in her bed without sex.
Once—
She shoves that thought away violently, and pulls back. He’s
watching her, waiting for her attention to swing up to him, and she licks her
lips.
He kisses her without warning, his lips soft and she shudders
under the caress of his lips and fingers, sliding slow and languid against her
bare back.
He doesn’t kiss her like this. Hasn’t since everything changed
between them her sophomore year of college.
Which is why she forces herself to lean back, away from him, a
hand on his chest.
“You should be furious with me,” she murmurs.
He nods. “I know.” He uses the hand on his chest to pull
sharply. She twists, and smirks at her friend. “Why does that surprise you?”
“Because—you. Him.” She flounders, “Why the hell would you fuck
him if you’re scared of him?”
So many reasons. For a second, all of it is on the tip of her
tongue, and she wants to tell Charlie everything that is the history between
her and Jacobs.
Instead she shoves down the urge and grins at her friend. Shrugs.
“You fucked him. He’s a-fucking-mazing in bed. That’s reason enough, isn’t it?”
She nudges Charlie with one toe. “Come on. Admit it.”
A flush colors her cheeks, and Charlie nods. “Yeah. He was
amazing. I haven’t come that hard in years.”
“Tre didn’t do it for you?”
Charlie shrugs one shoulder. “He was fucking other women. A couple
paralegals at the firm. Hard to get into shit when you know he’s been
cheating.” She breaks off, and her eyes widen.
“Don’t,” EJ says. “Jacobs is the one who fucked up. We aren’t
together—but he knows how I feel about him fucking with my friends. I’m not
pissed at you. So don’t, ok? Let’s just forget it and enjoy tonight.”
Charlie nods slowly, and EJ leans over the bar, grabbing a bottle
of vodka and pouring some into her almost empty glass.
“And that, my gorgeous girl, means we’re going to get fucking
wasted,” EJ lifts a glass and grins.
Charlie smirks, and raises her glass to clink them together.
“Sounds perfect.”
Chapter 12
There is something warm and hard pressed
against her and her head pounds.
She squint and winces, her eyes closing
tight against the too bright sun streaming in.
The warm pressure against her back
moves, pulling her farther back into it.
"It's too early to wake up, Ellie.”
It’s the Ellie. What he always called her when he let his guard down. Despite
all of her anger and the pounding in her head. Despite the reasons why she
should push him away and all the ways
she fears him, hearing Jacobs’ voice, sleep rough and warm in her ear, makes her melt against him.
She squirms around, putting her back to
the sun and blinking at him. It never does any good for her to see him like
this. Sleep rumpled, a peaceful look on his face, stubble on his jaw that she
wants to rub against. Without letting herself think about it, she reaches for
him, burrowing into his chest, holding onto his shoulder. He pulls her closer
with one arm, tossing a leg over her hips. Soft lips brush against her hair and
she has to blink hard to push down the idiotic tears that want for rise.
She inhales the scent that clings to him
and wrinkles her nose at the smell of smoke and stale alcohol. Slowly, the
night filters back.
They ended up at a bar on Bourbon.
Charlie was sloppy drunk, laughing and flirting with everything that moved, all
of the ice queen bitch washed away by whiskey and vodka. Once, early in the
night, she coaxed EJ onto a stage and they sang some shitty song in a shitty
karaoke bar, both of them collapsing into laughter before they got through the
first verse.
Jacobs had watched, strangely patient
through every bar and every shot, even when they snorted lines of blow with
Josh on a dingy apartment balcony, overlooking the street.
Jacobs was never that patient, and he is
never gentle. Not like this, waking up in her bed without sex.
Once—
She shoves that thought away violently, and pulls back. He’s
watching her, waiting for her attention to swing up to him, and she licks her
lips.
He kisses her without warning, his lips soft and she shudders
under the caress of his lips and fingers, sliding slow and languid against her
bare back.
He doesn’t kiss her like this. Hasn’t since everything changed
between them her sophomore year of college.
Which is why she forces herself to lean back, away from him, a
hand on his chest.
“You should be furious with me,” she murmurs.
He nods. “I know.” He uses the hand on his chest to pull
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