Page 16 of Close to the Edge

I burst out in surprised laughter, and Ash grins and smothers the sound with another kiss.

And… this can’t happen. Not after today. This is the most fleeting of pleasures, a tiny slice of heaven that can never be mine again, but right now… it’s hard to remember that. Hard to feel bad about anything at all.

There’s only Ash’s huge, warm body, crushed against mine, and the smell of soap and pine on his skin. The rasp of his stubble beneath my fingernails, and the insistent press of his cock against the fly of his jeans.

What would it be like to unzip those jeans and reach inside? To touch my brother’s best friend that way, hot and hard against my palm? To squeeze my fingers and make him groan?

A chair scrapes inside Flint’s, and a burst of laughter drifts outside. Tearing my mouth away, I finally stagger back, head spinning.

This can’t happen.

I’m at work, damn it.

And Ash is Rowan’s best friend. Even if he’s right, even if my big brother is more stable than before, that doesn’t mean either of us wants to test that theory. Not for a fleeting hook up; not when Ash will be gone soon anyway, leaving me with nothing more than a couple of overheated memories to remember him by.

“S-sorry.” My fingertips brush against my reddened lips, feeling how sensitive they’ve become in a few short minutes. Did I kiss him first, or did Ash start this? Did we both move at the same time? Does it even matter?

“Don’t be.” Scrubbing both palms down his face, Ash takes a cartoonishly large step back. Out of the shade, the sunlight catches a few lighter strands in his brown hair. “God, don’t be sorry. Fuck.”

He squints at me from between his fingers. I stare back, my whole body wound tight and throbbing.

Cool. Yeah.

No big deal.

“Evie also told me to invite you round for dinner tonight.” His face is still mostly covered by his hands, and the tips of Ash’s ears are pink, but his voice sounds more level than a moment ago. “Enchiladas, I think.”

“Sweet.” I give a wobbly thumbs up, cringing on the inside at how lame I’m being. At least we’ve both lost our minds—small comfort, but I’ll take whatever I can get right now. “I’ll be there.”

Ash turns and strides away, waving awkwardly over one massive shoulder.

I watch him go, practically panting like one of those overheated pups.

Eight

Ash

Another endless day of pacing along mountain trails; chopping wood outside Rowan’s cabin to add to their already brimming winter stores; and helping Evie slice up veggies for dinner, her bright chatter washing over me like the tide. Every second lasts an hour, and by the time the sunset paints their small kitchen in golden light, I’m practically crawling out of my skin.

Don’t get me wrong, these mountains are beautiful and the company is even better—but I can’t focus worth a damn. Not with the memory of Tess’s kiss still tingling on my lips.

The way she cleaved against me, panting and eager… the scrape of her nails against my jaw… the silky slide of her hair between my fingers… the heat of her…

“So I said, “Don’t waste time waiting for me to come back. I’m done with this crap.” And then I quit Pretzel Media, right then and there. ‘Course, that was a pretty risky move, but I can write anywhere and I’d already met Rowan so I knew I never wanted to be away from him again. It didn’t feel like such a huge leap.”

Evie’s knife chops rhythmically against a wooden board, slicing up a red pepper. I’m frowning down at an onion myself, trying to blink away moisture and chop neatly without getting distracted by thoughts of Tess. An impossible task.

“Bet you know how that feels since coming here,” Evie says lightly. “Meeting your person, I mean. Don’t you?”

I grunt in agreement, dicing the onion real small.

“Because of Tess,” Evie pushes.

I sniff hard, the onion fumes making my eyes water. “Yeah. Shit, this onion is brutal.”

There’s a long beat of silence, and when I finally whip my head around to Evie, she’s fighting back a smile.

“You—”

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