Page 65 of Game Changer
“I’m so glad I had this time to process things after the wedding.You’ve been so kind to me.”
I roll to my side, pull my arm from beneath the duvet and reach over to close my fingers around hers where they rest on her pillow.“I haven’t done anything.”
“You have, and you know it.I just want you to know I appreciate it.I feel like…” She pauses.“Like we’re better friends now.Right?”
Friends.
I really like Molly.Idoconsider her a friend.But over the past week, getting to know her better, spending time in close proximity with her, I have many distinctly unfriendlike ideas about her.Fantasies.Even dreams about her.I want to do dirty things with her, things I definitely wouldn’t do with a friend.
Her fingers move under mine, turning so we’re holding hands.Heat sweeps through my body, straight to my dick.I push a pillow down so there’s nothing between our faces and we’re looking at each other in the shadows.There’s not much distance between us.I want to taste her mouth.Lick inside.Devour her.
My heart thuds erratically against my ribs, so hard I think she can hear it.
“Yeah,” I finally rasp out.“Friends.”
She swallows.Moments accumulate, hot and heavy and brimming with emotion.Her lips part.My mouth is ravenous for her.My body vibrates with repressed need.
“Jax…”
“Mmmm.”
Her lips curve up at the corners into the sweetest smile.“Thank you again.”
My head moves on my pillow in acknowledgement.Words pile up in my brain but I don’t know which ones to say.I don’t know anything right now.“It was my pleasure, Molly.Really.”After another moment of silence, I say, “My dad didn’t cheat on my mom.”
I hear her suck in a breath.“What?Really?”
“Yeah.I asked him about it.”
I’d told her that we had a nice trip to Catalina and a good talk, but not the details.I haven’t really figured out how I feel about it or what to do about it, since my entire belief system about love and marriage has been based on this illusion.But now, here in the darkness, in bed, it feels safe to tell her.Iwantto tell her.
“How do you feel about that?”she asks quietly.
“I’m still not sure.”I tell her about why I believed that all these years and what Dad said.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her fingers tightening on mine.“I’m sorry you’ve missed out on the kind of relationship with your dad that you should have had.”
“Yeah.”An invisible fist squeezes my throat.“I’m sorry too.It was my fault, though.”
“Not entirely.He could have sat down with you and asked you what was going on.”
“He wasn’t around much.”
“Well, that’s on him, too.You were a kid.”
My heart expands at how she’s trying to make me feel better.“I guess we’re both responsible.”
“The good thing is, you’ve straightened it out now, and you can build a relationship with him.”
“Yeah.He’s going to try to come to Chicago or maybe even to the lake while I’m there so we can hang out more.”
“That’s so great.I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.I probably wouldn’t have done that if it weren’t for you.”
Our eyes meet and hold again.Unspoken words flow between us, a thrumming cord of connection and understanding.
“I don’t want to go home tomorrow,” she blurts out.
