Page 69 of Borrowing My Bestie's Brothers

“Oh my god,” I said, pulling away, “if I tried to mention your dick in any context, she’d be projectile vomiting everywhere.”

My eyes trailed down his body to see the cock that had brought me so much pleasure was starting to stiffen. It was tempting, to stay in bed, or the shower, maybe the couch, and see if we could replicate what had happened, but… In some ways, bad sex was easier to cope with. If a guy was lying there enjoying the afterglow and I wasn’t, I felt safe, untouchable. Nothing he did could penetrate my boundaries, but this? In theory, endless pleasure sounded like heaven, but right now it was just scary. I wouldn’t know where I started and he ended, and that’s why I pulled free, padding out the room and into the shower.

“You’re freaking out.” My head jerked up from under the water, my eyes opening a crack before I was forced to put my head back and allow the shampoo to wash away. Hayden padded closer, wearing shorts now. “That’s OK. I expected that.”

“What?”

I dashed the water away and looked at him more clearly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go running out the front door, though I guess the fact this is your place is what stopped you.” I dimly felt the spray beating down on my skin, a white-hot feeling washing through me despite the cool of the water. “That’s something I’ll remember for later.”

“Later?” I asked dumbly.

“Yeah, later.” He shot me a cocky smile. “When are you catching up with your family next?”

“Tomorrow for a family barbecue. That’s what Brock was ringing about,” I replied. “Mum asked me to invite him, but I obviously didn’t do that quickly enough, because she rang him herself. He wanted to check with me to see if I was cool with that.”

“Take me,” he insisted.

“What?”

“Take me. If you keep bringing Brock around, he’s gonna be the one she fixates on, and while I’m fairly sure you’ll never choose the guy your mum likes, if you go with me, it’ll throw her off the scent.”

“Or make her more determined,” I muttered, smoothing the soap over me. There was an odd kind of logic about what he was saying. I’d invented three boyfriends for a reason so… “But OK, you’re on. If I can walk straight…”

I was questioning some of my life decisions as my hand slipped lower. My clit was sensitive and swollen and he said he wanted me to feel him after he was gone, and I would. The low down, deep sensation was like an after burn, part pleasure, part ache. Not as intense as orgasm, but a constant reminder of it. He watched my hand move with great interest until I was forced to snatch it back.

“You’ll walk just fine.” Hayden looked terribly pleased with himself. “And if you can’t, I’ll carry you.”

“No, you won’t.” A thin thread of panic in my voice had him grinning, then pulling the glass shower door open as he leaned in. “Hayden?—”

He silenced me with a kiss, that somehow ten times more intimate than anything else that’d happened since he walked in the door. Because this was a foreshadowing of a future where he had stayed the night, maybe his own toiletries were lined up on the shower caddy beside mine, his towel hung up on the railing.

That’s what had me pulling back and blinking as I stared at him.

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “What time?”

I told him.

“I’ll pick you up,” I said.

“Nope.” His grin was so much brighter than it had been when he walked in through my door. “I’ll come by and take you there, be a proper ‘fake’ boyfriend. Now be good and don’t let my sister talk you into doing anything stupid.”

I spluttered at that, but he was walking away with a whistle, out of my bathroom, of my apartment. Left alone in my bedroom and towelling myself dry, I felt like I could take a full breath for the first time since Hayden arrived. So why did I hear the echo of it fill the room? I looked around and wondered what was missing. My bed was still a mess, the discarded towels had been picked up and put in the laundry apparently, but otherwise, everything was as it was supposed to be.

Him, I realised. It wasn’t just my body feeling the absence of Hayden, but my mind, my heart. I gritted my teeth and towelled my hair dry roughly before getting dressed for tonight.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Millie said as I walked towards her bar. It was still early so the place was mainly filled with regulars who spent their weekends here sipping on drinks. Her eyes narrowed, and it wasn’t at the old bloke getting flirty with one of her barmaids. “Hang on, why do you look different? Did you put makeup on?”

I touched the corner of my eyes.

“Some mascara, but?—”

“That’s not it.” As she pointed a shaky finger at me, the blokes at the bar turned to stare. “You… You…”

“Having a brain aneurysm finally, Mills?” I drawled. “I’ll call 000 for you.”

“You got laid!”

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