Page 232 of Rock Me All Night
My eyes flicker open. "My phone broke."
He leans down and scoops it off the ground. "It's only a scratch."
"It's more than a scratch."
He presses his lips into my neck. "But it's fixable." He plays with the screen. "It's still usable like this."
He kisses me again, a little harder. I moan into his mouth. This is much better than conversation.
He pulls back. "I'll still replace your screen tomorrow." He tugs at my ponytail, pulling the elastic band from my hair. His lips hover over my ear. His breath is soft. "You don't really expect me to believe you're this upset over a phone."
"I'm not—"
He brushes my hair behind my ear. "You remember how I touchafteryou talk to me?"
My cheeks flush. "Yes."
"Well, I'd hate if we didn't get to the touching part."
"But... I... we..." I want so badly to know what this means—if he likes me or loves me or simply wants to fuck me, no feelings required—but I'm not sure I'm prepared to hear the answer.
Drew has my shirt halfway off and he's whispering flirtatious dares in my ears. He clearly wants me. And there's no doubt he's my best friend.
But that could be it. It's entirely possible his feelings for me are only lust and friendship.
I pull my shirt back over my shoulders and rebutton it.
Drew lets out a low sigh. "I wish you wouldn't do that."
I turn to face him. "It's no big deal."
His stare is penetrating. His expression shifts. Not fun or flirty but serious.
He traces the hem of my pencil skirt. "Why do you play this game? You always tell me eventually."
I shrug like I'm not affected by him. "I had a message from my mom and she didn't sound happy."
His eyes narrow. He stares at me like he's daring me to tell him the truth.
"Okay. It was worse than not well. She sounds depressed again, the way she was after my dad died." I play with my skirt, my hands a few inches from Drew's. "My mom has plans for me to shadow at Sugar and Spice over spring break. She's super excited for me to work with her and fulfill all her dreams and I'll crush her if I turn down the opportunity."
"How do you know that?"
"She's my mom. I know." My gaze drifts toward the soft blue leather of the couch. "She's been either depressed or halfway to depression since my dad died. And she's almost there again."
Drew's voice gets soft. "Hey." He plays with my hair. "It's sweet you want to help her."
"I have to be there. No one else will."
He brings his hand to my chin and tilts me so he's staring straight into my eyes. "And how will you feel working at her company?"
"I'll live."
He shakes his head. "You're so full of shit. Why do I put up with you?"
"Because I have a great rack."
His eyes flare with desire. "True."
