Page 46 of Second Chance Ex
Joey stands and starts for the front door. He pauses, glancing back at me. “You coming in?”
I wrap the jacket tighter around me, staring out at the lake. “I’ll be in soon.”
“Keep my jacket on,” he says. “I don’t want you getting sick.”
By the time I realize what he’s just said, that I’m currently encased in the warmth of his jacket that has felt like nothing but a secure hug since Madison brought it out to me, Joey’s already disappeared back inside the house. And I’m left basking in the lingering scent of him as it envelops me.
I close my eyes, ducking my chin to sniff the collar of the jacket, and I’m overwhelmed by an emotion I’m not familiar with. Maybe it’s the memory of what weonce had and the obliterating sadness that we don’t have it anymore. Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Maybe it’s hope. Hope that I’m wrong, and that, despite all that’s happened, perhaps first love is deserving of a second chance.
After the moment shared on the porch, Joey went inside and snuck off upstairs, and I didn’t see him again for the rest of the night. Ryan and Madison went off to bed not long after, and so did Bree and Carter. So, it was just me, Milly, Heather and Dawn, Adam, Heath and Teddy, and Jessie, which was confusing since she didn’t go up with Joey.
We all went down to the games room to smash some shots, crank the music and battle one another on the arcade machines, and I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.
At some point during the night, Jessie pulled me aside. She wanted to make sure I was okay after what Joey had said during the game of Truth or Shot, and although I want to hate her, there’s just something about her; I actually really like her. And I guess, if Joey has to be with someone new, and a cheerleader no less, then I’m glad it’s her.
Jessie told me that she met Joey when she first started at the Grizzlies which wasn’t long after he and I broke up. She said over that time she’s seen him at some of his lowest points, and I knew exactly what she was referring to. When things ended between me and Joey, it wasn’t just me who was left hurt—he was hurting too—and to this day I’ll never forgive myself for the way I discounted his feelings during that time because I made it all about me. Perhaps if I’d been a little more considerate, maybe things would have been different.
“Just promise me one thing, Prue?” Jessie asked me, her eyes hopeful.
I nodded, despite my uncertainty.
“Just go easy on Joey. I know he cheated on you, and I’m not justifying thatat all.But I know there’s a lot more to what went down between the two of you, and… he’s hurt. He hides it well, but he’s—he’s not okay, Prue. Not even now. When you’re finally ready toreallytalk to him, just please give him a chance.”
I wasn’t sure if it was because I was drunk, but it seemed weird for her to be talking to me about this. She’s Joey’s girlfriend; why the hell would she want me—his ex—to give him a chance? Regardless, I nodded, and then we stopped talking about Joey and we actually ended up having a really fun night. It turns out that Jessie is super fun. I hate that I thought negatively about her, and I’m ashamed to say that I made a passing judgment that was based purely out of spite and jealousy, and nothing more. I like her. And, who knows? Maybe she and I could become friends. Even if she is with the once-was love of my life.
It was close to three a.m. when Jessie and I werestumbling our way up the stairs, trying to be quiet when, in fact, we were probably like a couple of baby hippos traipsing through the house, bumping into walls. So, to say I’m feeling more than a little sorry for myself when I finally drag my ass out of bed only a few hours later is a gross understatement; I feel like death warmed up twice in the goddamn microwave.
The house is quiet when I make it downstairs and I assume everyone is still sleeping. But I’m greeted by a huge breakfast grazing board spread out on the island counter in the kitchen, so I assume someone has been up to meet whoever brought this in. Croissants, waffles, pancakes, fresh fruit, bacon, sausage. It all looks so good, but my stomach is positively churning. I need coffee.
When I walk into the butler’s pantry, in search of a coffee machine, I crash face-first into a wall, or so it seems. Momentarily disoriented, I shake my head, snapping myself back to life. But when I look up and see a somewhat familiar pair of nipples staring back at me, I almost swallow my tongue. Lifting my chin, I meet Joey’s dark blue gaze, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I take a step back. And another for good measure, anything to give me some breathing space because holy fuck, the air is suddenly suffocating in here.
Of course Joey is here, lurking in the pantry, dressed only in a pair of black pajama pants and not a stitch else. Against my better judgment, I allow my eyes to trail down over his naked form that is even more impressive than I remember. His shoulders are wider, biceps bigger, forearms ropier. It seems his abs have had babies and the six-pack is now a family of eight. There’sa little more hair smattering his defined chest, and a faint trail that leads from his belly button and down under the waist of his pants that are hanging so low I’m not quite sure what’s holding them up. Actually, scratch that. I know precisely what’s holding them up. I swallow hard and avert my eyes when I spot the semi that greets me, seemingly swelling beneath my gaze.
“Sorry,” I croak, my throat thick and dry. “I was, um, looking for the cock…ee.Coffee!” I clear my throat and force a smile as I take the moment that I need to collect my scrambled thoughts. “I was looking for thecoffeemachine.”
Joey just stares down at me, and I can tell he’s trying so hard not to laugh at my mortifying slip of the tongue. He steps aside and points, and I follow the direction of his tauntingly thick finger, finding an intimidating barista-style machine ready and waiting.
“Thanks,” I mutter, quickly turning away from him and silently chastising myself for outright ogling him.
I hate the way my body is still so responsive to him. But, in my defense, he’s a top-ranked professional football player with the body of Greek God, and I’m only human. Plus, I expect it will continue to happen until I fully move on; Joey wasn’t just my first love, he was my first everything. Can you ever truly get over your first? God, I hope so, otherwise I’ll be ruined for the rest of my lonely, single life.
Grabbing one of the white mugs from the shelf above the coffee machine, I place it on the spot where it needs to go, but then I’m left just staring at the contraption. All I have at home is a Nespresso pod machine that I bought from Costco for forty bucks during a Black Friday sale. This thing is fancy. I have noidea what I’m doing as I press a button, startled when the thing starts screeching at me.
“Dammit,” I hiss under my breath.
Just as I reach up to try one of the other buttons, I feel an overwhelming warmth press up against me from behind.
“Allow me,” Joey’s low voice thrums against my ear as he reaches over my shoulder, effortlessly operating the machine.
I thought he’d left me to it, but nope. He’s still here.Righthere, flanking me, pressed up against me in a way I’m almost certain he shouldn’t be. I can feel every part of him right there. His hard chest, his erection shamelessly pressing against my lower back. His other hand moves to my waist as if to hold me right there, and I swear, I’m not even breathing right now.
Joey’s breath fans against my temple as he continues pressing my buttons—I mean themachine’sbuttons—and for a moment my lashes flutter, eyes closing as I relax back into him, allowing the gentle whir of the machine to lull me into a false sense of security, as if this is where I belong, right here, wrapped up in the delicious scent of coffee and everything Joey.
The big hand on my waist pulls me impossibly closer, flush against him, and I hear his sharp intake of breath when my hips move of their own accord, not-so-accidently pressing a little firmer against his dick. His other hand neglects the machine entirely and finds its way to my hip, fingers biting into me through my satin pajama pants. The feel of his deliciously hard cock pressing up against me, and the sound of his labored, almost ragged breaths right there by my ear, I couldcome from the sheer thought that he’s so fucking worked up over me right now.
“Oh my god, is that coffee I smell?”
I startle abruptly, moving so quick, my elbow connects with Joey’s crotch in a way that makes him stifle a groan, hunching over, hands clutching himself, eyes closed, face turning red. But I can’t stop to apologize or check that he’s at least intact. I can’t even bear to look at him as I grab my mug of steaming coffee and hurry out of the pantry, finding Heather and Milly picking at the grazing board.
