Page 37 of One Day

I grin and reach for his shoulder, directing him back down to me. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I whisper, gasping when he guides himself in. My nails dig into his skin, clawing at him, and the twist of pleasure fills his features as I stretch to accommodate him.

He starts slow, thrusting his hips forward. Each movement is gentle, allowing me to adjust to his size and the fire burning in my belly. He fills every corner of my brain, and I lose sight of the world around me. Nothing but him seems to matter, filling in every open crack between us. It’s everything I knew it could be and more.

It unfolds into something I don’t recognize. Now that I know how good we feel together, how good we could be, it leaves me wanting more, and that’s not part of our deal. This is strictly friends. That’s all we can be—fantastic friends.

The best of friends.

But God, we could be so much more.

“Fuck, Sunny,” Walker breathes out, one hand on the bed next to my waist while the other grips my hip to hold me steady as his thrusts become more urgent. “You take me so well.”

“More,” I breathe out, digging my nails into his back. “I need more.”

Without missing a beat, his hand moves off my hip, and his thumb finds the sensitive bundles of nerves between my legs. I gasp at the contact, tightening my hold on his shoulders. Stars dance behind my eyes as I tip over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before I hear my name, and his weight comes down on top of me. His labored breaths a chant against my neck as he rolls into the empty space next to me.

“We should have done that sooner,” he says when we’ve both caught our breath, and his laugh wraps around me in a familiar warmth. “What were we thinking?”

Whatever concern I had about not being able to fall back into this state of our friendship dissolves. My anxiety that asking him to have sex with me totally fucked everything up is put to bed. Letting out a long breath, I turn my head to find him already smiling at me, and my heart races.

We’re good.

He’s still Walker. My Cowboy and I’m still Sunny.

We’re still us.

“Yeah. We should have.”

His smile widens as he moves his hand up to tuck some hair behind my ear. “I guess we should talk about those rules now, huh?”

I nod my head, biting down on my bottom lip. “Maybe,” I say, not yet ready to break this freeing feeling between us. “You know what sounds really good right now?”

He hums. “Tell me.”

“Peach pie.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WALKER

I knew the moment Sonya brought up peach pie, she was buying us time. Time to breathe in this space of serenity we created before we’re forced to face reality, instilling rules neither of us want while trying our best to keep the flames burning between us at bay. So, I don’t argue with her. I don’t question it, and that’s how we both ended up outside Adam’s Diner in Reid’s truck. The neon 24-hour sign blindingly bright on the building.

“Hey, you two.” Laurel, our favorite server with peppered black hair, smiles when the bell above the door rings. It wasn’t until Sonya started coming here with me that the servers started to take notice of us—or rather, her. I’m fairly certain it’s impossible not to notice Sonya. “Go grab a seat at your booth, and I’ll bring a slice of pie over.”

“Could you make it two, Laurel?” Sonya asks on her way to our booth, the freshly cleaned tile floor squeaking under her sneakers. “And a coffee.”

“Sure thing, sweets. Walker, you want one?”

I shake my head, following Sonya to our booth, nestled tightly in the corner. The piece of heaven I was seeking out all those years ago, amplified by Sonya’s presence. “I’m alright.”

“Why is it so cold in here today? I swear I’m always sweating while we’re here,” Sonya whines when she slides into her side of the booth, reaching for the salt and pepper shakers at the end of the table. She pulls them towards her to keep herself busy.

“You sure it’s not just because you’re nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

“I don’t know. Why would you be nervous, Sunny?” I watch the frozen expression on her face, studying it.

She might not admit it out loud, but I can feel it. She doesn’t know what to do now that we’ve slept together. It’s as if we’ve switched roles. She’s taken on my timid approach, whereas I feel better than ever about this. About her. About us.

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