I whip my head around to find him standing almost fully dressed, except for the ruined dress shirt. He wants toleave? I pull a nearby throw over myself, feeling way too exposed. He damn sure doesn’t get to stare at my tits while walking out on me!
“It’s just that,” he explains, moving to take his jacket from the back of the couch, “we both knew what it was, right? One wild night and then back to normal? Just friends?”
“One wild night,” I echo, my voice hollow.
I pull my protective shield back into place. He’s right, of course. If we started something now, it’d only complicate things. And who wants complicated?
I did feel…something. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.
“I’ll text you,” he says with a weak smile. I only nod, watching him leave and shut the door behind him.
That was a colossal mistake. No more friends, no more whateverthatwas. It’s time to put all my focus on work and what comes next. Anything else is a distraction.
Chapter twenty-two
Damon
As is becoming commonplace these days, we’re a man short for our regular flag football game.
This time last year, it would’ve been me; blocking a Portuguese point guard’s shot instead of going long for a pass from New York’s top divorce attorney.And I’m out of breath!Henry’s three years older, works 24/7, and yet somehow he’s almost as fit as I am. It must be the professional-grade home gym in his basement—he’s got no excuse to skip leg day. None of that stops me from ragging on him about borrowing his senior discount or using Icy Hot; busting his balls is my duty as his brother.
His twin, Noah, is stuck on set somewhere downtown, advocating for a client; I think Henry’s fiancée’s sister is working on the same movie. Adam has to leave early to visit Maya’s parents in DC, while Cory showed up late sporting a hickey and lookingquite pleased with himself. After a rocky start, he and Denise are still going strong.
I grip the ball against my chest, continuing into the end zone, and sneak another glance at Cory’s bruised neck. I wish Kendra had left some marks; proof that last night wasn’t just my overactive, undersexed imagination playing tricks on me.
But no. Even without the bruises, I know last night happened. The scent of lemon verbena was all over me this morning, triggering vivid memories of her hands squeezing my hips, her mouth gasping in pleasure, and the quiver of her thighs as she came.
I adjust my shorts to hide my rapidly forming half-chub and pass the ball back to Henry.
I can’t help but think I made a mistake in leaving last night. Kendra and I talked about it ahead of time. We agreed it was one night only, since I want more than she’s willing to give. The sex was fire. More than fire. I knew it would be. And my heart tugged painfully, just like it did the first time we were together. When I tricked myself into thinking her looks meant something. That we were both feeling the same earth-shattering connection.
This time, I ignored those tugs and stuck with the plan. I gave myself two minutes in the bathroom to freak out about the best sex of my life—the wordtranscendentcomes to mind—then I slapped myself to clear my head, washed up, and walked out as agreed. It took everything I had not to leave my jacket or tie behind so I’d have a reason to go back.
I didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across her face when I came out dressed, though. She was snuggled under that blanket, warm and inviting, and it had nearly killed me not to strip down again and spoon her from behind. But she didn’t want that…did she?
Cory runs up from the sideline and flicks my ear.
“Hey!” I shout, rubbing the tender skin. He just rolls his eyes.
“Hey nothing, Damon. You’ve been spacing out all game. What’s up?”
I punch him in the shoulder on the way to the bench, grumbling under my breath. Henry drops his arms to his sides with a slap.
“I guess we’re taking a water break?” he complains.
“If that’s the case, I’ll probably only have time for another play or two,” Adam says, sitting next to me on the bench.
Cory nudges me again.
“Spill. What’s got you so distracted?”
Should I tell them? These are my brothers. I love them more than anything. But they’ve got their own lives. Ownwives! And my bullshit must seem like peanuts in comparison.
I take a swig from my water bottle.
“Nothing, man. Just thinking about the kids at Centerpoint. Carter and Robbie are—”
Adam interrupts me with a flick to my other ear, and I hiss out a curse.
