Page 92 of When It's Us
My lips twitch with a crooked wince and I speak out of the side of my mouth. “You really want a play-by-play of your brother-in-law’s face between my thighs?”
She grimaces, then chuckles, glancing away from the phone before looking back at me. “Yeah, no. You’re right. That’s weird. But you never did give me details. I needsomething.”
Might as well lay it all out there. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the lashing I'm about to get, and likely deserve for withholding this information from my best friend.
“The first time was the night you had the girls.”
“That was almost nine months ago!” Her laugh is incredulous.
She tilts her head. When I stay silent, her eyes go soft again. “Hey, I’m not judging. You’re a grown woman.” She pauses, the mischievous sparkle returning to her gaze. “Wheredid this happen?”
“Which time?”
“Ginger!” she admonishes, laughter dancing in her eyes.
“The first time was...out on your deck.” She doesn’t seem bothered by that admission or shocked in the least.
“And the other?”
“Your wedding.”
Her jaw drops before she bursts out laughing. “Iknewsomething was going on between you two that day! When I couldn’t find you for like, an hour, and then suddenly there you were, creeping back in within seconds of one another. You really are a sneaky little slut.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “It was not an hour, and I wasnotcreeping.” I watch her face for any sign that telling her was a mistake. “You’re not mad?”
She waves a hand through the air dismissively. “Why would I be mad? It’s about time you got some.”
Phew.
It feels really good to get all that off my chest. Wren and I have been friends for a long time, and I never wanted there to be secrets between us. At least now she’ll understand the predicament I’m in. Falling into this pattern with Hutch has been too easy, and now I think it’s turning into something that will only complicate the shit sandwich that is my life right now. Even if it is super-hot.
“We messed around on the road trip a bit and then again the other night after the birthday party for Jasper and I don’t know…it worries me.”
“What does?” she asks.
“Honestly, it’s so easy with him, Wren.” I pause, wondering if sharing so much is a good idea, but it doesn’t stop the word vomit from flowing. “He annoys me to no end, constantly pushing my buttons with stupid jokes and innuendos. He’s this weird combination of quiet confidence and cocky bravado that I can’t help but be drawn to. Plus, he can be really fucking sweet. Like, I can’t believe I’m really saying that.”
Wren smiles.
“And don’t get me started on his hot, stupid, bearded face. And all that hair? Seriously, it should be illegal for a man to grow hair like that.”
Evenmoreillegal for me to practically drop my panties every time I’m around him.
Wren laughs but stays quiet, letting me process through my feelings about Hutch and our precarious situation.
“But it’s deeper than that. It’s like he sees me, Wren. Like really sees me. He listens and…he gets me. On more than a physical level.”
She lets out a low whistle. “Honey, you’ve got it bad.”
I blow out a breath. “Don’t I fucking know it.”
“Have you talked to him? About how you’re feeling?”
I shake my head. “I mean, not really. When we first started this whole thing—on the road trip, I mean—we said no strings. And I meant it.”
“But?”
And I’m touch-starved enough to let him do whatever he wanted to me. All those tattoos and washboard abs make it tempting to keep this going, even though I know better. Especially now, with these feelings creeping in—feelings that could wreck me if I’m not careful. Because this is temporary. I’m not staying in Timber Forge; whatever this is between us ends when I leave.
