“I don’t need an apology,” he said, his voice came out sounding gravelly.
“Unfortunately, you signing up as my best friend also means you get the brunt of my sassiness.”
“Lucky for you, it doesn’t happen that often.”
“You mean, lucky for you,” she teased.
His lips tugged at the corners.
They stared at one another, neither brave enough to say another word. He honestly didn’t know how he would survive this night without doing something completely idiotic, like confessing his feelings for her. Or worse, pulling her into his arms and exploring every single inch of her body with his mouth.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
KELSEY
Every nerve ending burnedwith a yearning Kelsey couldn’t explain. Laying there, sharing a bed with her best guy friend while the reflection on the glowing ceiling illuminated Davis’s face, set her body on fire.
Maybe the room was too hot. The temperature set too high on the heat. That made much more sense. More sense than resisting acting on a growing fascination with the familiar body lying next to her.
This craving, this desire building between her thighs was insane, and she demanded an explanation for her body betraying her. She and Davis were friends. That’s all they’d ever been. Even before Ricky.
Maybe if she didn’t look at him, she’d be fine. Yeah, that would work. The world would then align itself once again. She turned her face to stare at the ceiling. Definitely not as enjoyable.
“I don’t mind, ya know?” he said, his voice scratchy against the quiet room.
“What’s that?”
“Being your punching bag.”
She gasped. “You’re not. I’ve never treated you that way. Have I?”
“No, I’m just saying, I can handle it. Use me…for whatever.”
She swallowed hard.Whatever? He had no idea what he was saying.
The yearning she felt for him made her want to act on these feelings she’d had for him for the past couple weeks. But what if it was the alcohol giving her liquid courage? What if he turned her down?
She needed to chill and just go to sleep.
But when she rolled to face him once again and her eyes flicked up to meet his, she found him staring at her. His own eyes darkened, and his long, black lashes swept over her. A shudder racked her body.
“Davis, I—”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He reached a hand out and pushed a strand of hair away from her face.
A shiver ran through her. Without over thinking it, she reached a tentative hand toward him, dancing a finger down his chest, her fingertip sliding against the smooth skin of his pec. The intake of his breath at her touch sent a hum in her depths.
She should’ve put a stop to this right then. This was dangerous. They were hovering over a land mine. One wrong move, wrong touch, wrong word spoken could cause an explosion. In a single moment their entire friendship could shatter into oblivion.
Could their friendship afford to take that chance?
Being drawn in as if under a spell, she leaned in closer to him. When he rubbed her shoulder and slid his hand down the length of her arm, she regretted wearing her sweatshirt to bed.
As her hand traveled lower, his stopped on her hip, where he gave it a squeeze. She pulled her lip in between her teeth, and he reached his hand around to her back, sliding it inside her sweatshirt and she shivered. The roughness of his calloused hand against her skin electrified her need for him and she released a suppressed moan. His fingertips dug into her back.
“I want to be here for you,” he said, his voice low and gruff.
“For this?” she couldn’t help but ask and then snorted a laugh she tried to cover with her hand. “Wow, am I sexy or what?” She didn’t expect an answer. Not really.
