“We need another story.” Her expression softened, and she went all doe-eyed. “Come on, Thorn, you cheat on women all the time—you’re good at dealing with estrogen. How do we do this, make it believable, keep everyone happy, and the families on friendly footing? Because I refuse to let you ruin our families again.”
“Me? I ruined your family? And Brooke? What did she do? Nothing?”
Avery gasped. “You tried to seduce her!”
“What?” I hissed. “What did you just say?”
“You. Seduced. Her. In. Her. Bedroom. MINUTES after kissing me.”
“I was drunk—I stumbled into the wrong room, saw red hair, and thought . . .” Shit. I’d gone too far. Shit. Shit. Take it back, take it back.
“Thought what?”
“So, a story?” I pasted a fake smile on my face. “I say we go with—”
“Thought. What?” Her fingers gripped my T-shirt and twisted.
With a groan, I broke eye contact and looked down at the ground. “I thought it was you. In my muddled drunken brain, I thought it was you, not Brooke—so, yeah, she wasn’t the sister I’d planned on seducing.”
There. I’d said it.
Let her hate me.
“You thought you were crawling into my bed?”
“I figured if I could just talk to you and see how you really felt—then I’d be brave enough to call everything off, or if that failed, at least I’d be drunk enough to pull the plug on the wedding.”
The silence stretched out long past uncomfortable, making the tension between us nearly unbearable.
“You felt that way because you were drunk.”
“No, Avery Bug, not because I was drunk.”
She waited.
I exhaled through my clenched teeth and finally admitted the truth. “One day you were my friend, and then you became something completely different. Because I wanted you. Because I’ve always wanted you. Because even when it was wrong—and you were only seventeen years old—I wanted you.”
“And now?”
I kissed her.
She didn’t kiss me back.
Not at first.
And then slowly, her hands snaked around my neck, her lips parted—and I was completely awakened to what it would feel like to belong to Avery Black.
“Stay,” I heard myself begging between each heated kiss. “Stay.”
“You’re a bad habit, Thorn.” Her chest heaved, and her green eyes glistened. “An addiction I can’t kick—each kiss gets me drunker than the first, until I lose all sense of right and wrong.”
“This is right,” I urged, already backing her up against the wall and parting her lips with my tongue. Her body melted under my touch. I was pretty sure I could taste her forever and still be ravenous for her mouth.
Her hand slid down my chest, pushing me away, putting maybe two inches of space between us. “What about your Monday?”
“Screw Monday.” I slid my hands under her shirt and slowly inched it off her body. “I’m talking about today. Do you think you can handle that?”
She nodded.
“Thank God, because plan B involved duct tape, rope, my bed, and an infrared sensor.”
“Classy.” Avery’s questioning gaze had me ready to bolt already, but if she needed more, I needed to be willing to give it. “One question.”
I waited.
“Are you even capable of commitment?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer.
“Thorn?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. The last time I tried I fell for someone else. A girl with bright green eyes and strawberry-blonde hair who smelled like grape gum and called me by my last name. She made me feel alive. I think she’s the only one capable of giving a cheater a reason to change his ways. That’s all I can give you, the truth.”
She brushed a kiss across my lips. “It’s enough.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
AVERY
I yawned behind my hand. My eyes watered a bit, and my vision was starting to double and then triple. “Two months ago. Starbucks. You stood in line and yelled obscenities at the poor old lady getting trained. I, being the hero in this scenario, stepped in, punched you in the face—we both ended up in jail and then started dating.”
Lucas gave me a thumbs-down, and his abs glistened beneath the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “Is there a reason that every story you come up with involves you being the hero, while I end up maimed, in prison, or almost murdered?”
I giggled. “I think my favorite one was when you got jumped, and I saved your life with my kung fu.”
His menacing grin did funny things to my stomach. “Admit it. The closest you’ve been to kung fu is the movie Kung Fu Panda, which you probably watched because you’re convinced the panda is your spirit animal since it’s always eating.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Next!” Lucas pressed down on the red beeper I’d stolen out of one of his board games and yawned. “And please let me keep all of my teeth this time.”
“Flaws make people human!”
“Avery Bug, in one of the stories you were wearing a crown . . . Now, something realistic, please.”
“Okay, okay.” I moved onto my knees and started crawling across the king-size mattress toward him.
His smile fell, replaced by a heated look that had me ready to jump all over him—again—and get distracted—again—and fail to come up with a believable story for our families—again.
“How about . . .” I licked my lips and grinned. “I’ve got it. The perfect story.”
“Oh?” He started kissing my neck. I shivered. “Are you going to share this perfect story or just keep it on lockdown and then surprise the shit out of me? Careful how you answer—I’m already old, remember? Surprises age people, Avery Bug.”
“You’re a male dancer, like Carl. On the weekends you shake your ass to make more cash—and then you donate said cash to the children because you, Lucas Thorn”—I imitated his voice the way every female imitated his voice—“are a giver.”
He glared at me.
“Or”—I held up one hand—“we tell them a partial truth.”
“I’m listening.”
“Great, could you perchance not kiss me while listening though because it makes me stumble over my words, and I hate feeding your ego. Tonight, I saw you preening at yourself in the mirror, so stop that.”
He laughed against my neck.
And I briefly wondered if I would survive the day Lucas Thorn walked out of my life.
Again.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
LUCAS
Work had been hell, probably because I spent most of my workday trying not to stare at Avery and imagine her naked.
Time passed too fast, meaning I blinked and it was Saturday, the day of the party. We’d stayed up most of the two nights before. I couldn’t keep my hands off her, and I had this urgency to keep marking her—making her mine before we faced everyone.
Which in turn caused us to run late since she’d stayed over at my apartment again and said she had to go home and change into something presentable. I took a few deep breaths while parked out in front of Avery’s building and drummed my fingers against the console while soft music floated through the car.
I adjusted my tie a dozen times.
And nearly choked myself to death at least six of those times.
“Sorry.” The passenger door opened, and in a flurry of mouthwatering perfume, Avery hopped into the car. “I couldn’t find my heels, and then I realized my shoes didn’t match and—”
I wasn’t aware I was swearing out loud, until she stopped talking and my mouth kept moving.
“Are you okay?” Her expression was one of concern.
“You look incredible.” I breathed out a tense sigh. “That dress.” I shook my head, mouth completely dry. “It’s really . . . tight.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Tight as in, maybe stop bonding so much with your panda spirit animal, or tight as in, wow,
it fits you like a glove—carry on and here’s a donut for your trouble?”
“The latter.” I leaned across the console and captured her lips in mine. Relief washed through me when she threaded her hands through my hair and whispered my name. “I missed you.”
“I was literally gone for eight minutes, maybe nine.”
“The day you get ready in eight minutes, I’ll run for president.”
“Vote Thorn!” She nuzzled my neck and then sucked on my earlobe. “But seriously, we need to go. We’re already late and I’m sweating.”
“You and me both,” I grumbled, putting the car into drive and inching into downtown traffic. “Though it’s more of a cold sweat.”
“That sounds lovely, Thorn. Tell me more about this ‘cold sweat.’”