Page 50 of The Dating Pact

Afraid to cross the Rubicon and lose my friend. My best friend.

“Are you okay?” I asked, and he nodded before reaching for my bra and shirt. He helped me sit up then retrieved my underwear and shorts.

Only once I dressed and we were both standing up did he answer. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because of…” Because of what happened last time, I didn’t finish. Because of how you cried. Because of how you miss your wife.

He rubbed at his tattoo. The one he’d gotten for Mira the same night I’d had the monarch butterfly inked on my ankle, a reminder that I’d survived. I’d done something really fucking hard, and I’d come out the other end.

Jude’s tattoo was a physical reminder of his beloved.

And I knew I could never have anything more than this with him.

Which was why it hurt so bad when he said, “There’s no one else I’d do this with besides you.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and rolled my head to the side, focusing on the horizon so he couldn’t see how his words affected me. I cleared my throat, forcing a smile on my face and in my voice as I turned back to him. “Yeah. I’m a real saint. Helping you learn while I get some orgasms.” I met his eyes. “Tough job but somebody’s got to do it.”

He licked his lips and blinked a few times, craning his neck, peering around. The sky had turned purple, the sun nearly gone to bed while we’d been fooling around on the ground. “I didn’t mean it like?—”

I stopped him with my hand up. “I know. I’m kidding.” I closed the distance between us, trying on a bit of honesty. “Too bad you’re only looking for sex. Because you’re the whole package.” I let out a derisive laugh. “You’ve set impossible standards for anyone I date.”

He placed his hands on my hips, his gravelly voice like crystalized sugar. “Good. Make them all jump through hoops. They should want to if they think they deserve you.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Careful. You’re gonna make this hard for me.”

He grunted softly and tucked his face against my neck, leaving a quick kiss there before letting go. “I should go.”

“See you at the market?”

“Yup.” He waved and headed to his car.

And I plopped back on a chair and lit up.

FOURTEEN

JUDE

It had been days since I’d last seen Brooke at the farmers market, where we chatted as if everything was fine. As if I hadn’t learned she liked an occasional hair-pull or hand around her throat. As if I hadn’t stripped her naked and feasted on her like she was my last meal.

This was Brooke.

The woman I’d known for years.

Who had wiped my literal tears. Who’d helped me hold on to my sanity when I thought I’d lose it. Who’d kept me steady on days I felt like I’d be swept away. She had held my hand and walked with me through the highs and lows of the last few years. Didn’t talk me off the ledge but sat with me on it.

Brooke.

My friend.

My very good friend.

My best friend.

More than Dylan, Liam, and Nate, I could be completely open and honest with her.

And yet I hadn’t told her this secret. That I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, about what we did.

How I enjoyed—no, more than enjoyed—I loved going down on her. I loved learning what she liked, what she needed to orgasm. I loved being the one to give it to her.

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