Page 72 of Hell or High Water

Swinging my eyes back to the baseball game with my attention solely on her, I listened as she walked over to the counter. A cabinet opened, the refrigerator. This was my chance to say something. Fix this. I missed her. There, I’d admitted it. I missed her. I enjoyed being around her. She made me…she made me smile. She also made me hard, but that wasn’t what I was focusing on here.

Say something, dammit!

“The chicken enchiladas—”

The sound of glass shattering cut me off, and I spun around to see her standing in the middle of what looked like a broken glass.

“I, um, I’m sorry,” she stammered and started to bend over to get the shards.

I jumped up. “NO! You’ll cut yourself. Just wait. Don’t move.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, and I noticed then they were bloodshot. Had she been crying? Fuck. I really hoped she hadn’t been crying. The chest shit was back.

I got to her and stepped over the glass then scooped her up as she gasped. She clung to my arms while I carried her to the sofa and lowered her down onto it.

“Sit here. I’ll get a broom.”

“It slipped. You, uh, spoke, and I wasn’t expecting it. I just—”

“Six,” I said, stopping her, “it’s a broken glass. Doesn’t matter.”

She took a deep breath, then blew it out and nodded, although she still seemed nervous. The fucking glass could wait. I couldn’t take much more of this.

I sat down beside her, and she stiffened. I deserved that.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I was a complete dick. And it wasn’t your fault.”

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t get up and leave either. Or try to leave. If she attempted it, I would pin her to this sofa until she forgave me.

“What I said, how I reacted in my bedroom the other night…that was me. I was mad at myself. Not you. But I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have.”

This time, she frowned. “I don’t understand.”

I ran a hand over my head and sighed. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t. I didn’t talk to you about it. I…” Pausing, I looked at her. If I was as honest as I could be with her, then we could possibly both get something we wanted, and she wouldn’t have a reason to cry. “I like being around you. I enjoy your company. I really like the way you look, and if it wasn’t clear the other morning, I want to fuck you. But you’re a virgin, and I know from experience that virgins get attached emotionally when they have sex for the first time. They confuse pleasure with love. And I was afraid you were going to think you had feelings for me, and that would cause a host of shit. Because we can’t be anything…other than friends.” I stopped talking to assess how she was taking this. I wasn’t sure if I was saying it right.

She dropped her gaze to her hands, which she’d clasped tightly in her lap.

“I tried to get thewe are only friendsthing across the wrong way. I treated you like a fucking dude, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it like that. And your reaction in my room after a day of that kind of treatment was fair. I deserved it.”

I reached over and eased her hands apart. She was so tense. Taking one, I held it in mine and ran my thumb over the top of it.

“I want us to be friends. And if we mess around, that’s all we will do. I won’t take your virginity. It’s not mine to take.” I had to stop and swallow to try and loosen up my throat. It had gone tight. “That’s for the guy you fall in love with.”

Fuck, what was wrong with my throat? It was closing up—or it felt like it at least. I tried clearing it. The image of some unknown guy fucking her was playing in my head, and that wasn’t helping. My hand had tightened on hers, and I forced myself to relax or attempt to.

“Can you forgive me? Can we have our friendship back? And if you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t. But remember how awesome those orgasms were. I mean”—I grinned—“while you’re deciding what you want to do.”

The corner of her lips tugged up, and the relief from her hint of a smile almost made my throat open back up.

“I mean, you’ve not had the experience of my tongue down there. I’ve got skills, and I think it would be an unfair decision to make before you’ve at least ridden my face.”

Her breathing hitched, and her eyes widened. “Uh,” she breathed. “I, uh, want to be friends too. And I can’t promise I won’t develop an attachment if we do sexual things…” She trailed off and blushed. “But I won’t let it change things. Between us and our friendship.”

So, that was a yes? Right?

I was struggling to concentrate. Her lips were distracting me.

“We’re good then? I’m forgiven?”

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