Page 113 of Tickled Pink

“Thad.” I shift closer to him. “Your mom died a long time ago. You were just a kid. Moving on doesn’t make you a bad son. In fact, it’s probably what she would have wanted.”

Thad says nothing, his eyes so heavy.

“You’re a good man, Thad,” I say. “I never would have chosen to share my life with you if you weren’t.”

He looks up, his strong blue eyes locking on mine through strands of dirty blonde hair. Still, he says nothing, but I’ve had over twenty years to learn him. It’s how he knew I was off today. When it comes to the two of us, we just… know.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have assumed you were…”

“It’s okay. I probably would have thought the same thing.” He furrows his brow. “So, is the ring the reason why you wanted me to consider going back to work for the airline?” he asks.

I wince.

“Dude,” he says, scolding me.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I’m an idiot.”

“We’re both idiots.” He shrugs. “I should have told you about it sooner.”

“So,” I swallow hard, “you’re not thinking about marriage?” I ask.

“Oh, I definitely think about it. Don’t you?”

He’s got me there, I suppose. “Is Phoebe?” I ask.

Another shrug.

“How is that going to work with us?” I ask, the question so heavy.

Thad chuckles. “Who knows?”

“Just promise me, please,” I say. “When you’re thinking about taking that step—“

“I’ll talk with you first. I promise,” he says. “You do the same with me.”

I breathe out, relieved. “I promise.”

Thad leans in again, angling his lips to connect with mine. A pact for the future sealed with a simple kiss. But it’s a kiss that’s hard to break away from, the feel of his mid-afternoon stubble a tempting spark that can’t be ignored.

I lie back on my childhood bed, taking my best friend with me. Thad settles on top of me, our bodies and mouths pressed together. Our kiss deepens, our tongues touching, our cocks rubbing firmly together through our clothing.

I chuckle.

“What?” Thad asks.

“Just…” I gaze into his eyes once again. “Did you ever think we’d end up like this?” I ask.

“This ain’t the end, Max,” he says. “We’re nowhere near it.”

“You know what I mean.” My hips roll on their own, my body desperate to connect with his... in every way possible. “If it weren’t for Phoebe, would we be here now? Like this?”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I hope so.”

My heart skips. “You do?”

He kisses me softly. “Don’t over-think it,” he whispers. “If it feels good, then it feels good.”

“Always been your motto,” I joke.

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