Page 23 of More than Friends


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“I’m busy,” I yell loud enough for the twins to hear.

“Hurry up in there,” Theo says.

“We are so fucked,” Kat says. “How are we going to explain why we took a shower together?”

“I don’t owe anyone an explanation, and neither do you.” I set her down, now that the twins have ruined the moment.

“I’ll get out, and you can let Theo in. He won’t even know I was with you.”

My face hurts from smiling so much. Kat was always my partner in crime. At least that part of our relationship is still the same, even if I need a roadmap to navigate the next phase.

Chapter 12

Senior Year

Kat

I wake up to the sun in my eyes and my head pounding like a jackhammer. Every bone and muscle in my body aches. My throat burns from the shots I did last night, each breath stirring a fire inside my stomach. I blink a few times to get the sleep from my eyes and glance at the white walls that are mostly barren except a few hockey awards and posters

I was drunk last night, but not so out of it not to remember what I did with Dean. To remember the things I said to Dean. I told him I love him, and I do. But how did he take it? What does this mean to him? Still on my side, with my back to Dean, he has his arm hooked around my stomach, breathing against my skin.

I lift his hand and set it on the bed to give myself enough room to get up and escape to the bathroom. And to get dressed. Now that the sun is shining on his face and perfectly toned body, I feel subconscious being naked next to him. He’s gorgeous—if I can even say that about a man. Nothing about him is ever out of place, not even in sleep.

For a second, I start to panic, the nervous energy shooting through my body. Theo and Tucker are sleeping on the other side of this wall. My brothers love Dean. They think of him as another member of the Baldwin clan. How will they react if they see us together, and in such a compromising position? Fuck.

All because I had to act like a girl and wonder what it would be like to be with Dean. Again. We never have sex at his house—and for a good reason. It was as if I thought this last-ditch effort before graduation would be enough to keep him in my life. The truth is that Dean has no control over where he lives once he gets drafted into the NHL, and I have a job waiting for me back home in Chicago. So, why did I think this was the answer? If anything, I might have further ruined our friendship out of curiosity, maybe even out of fear.

“Get back to bed, Kitten.” Dean’s voice sounds more gruff than normal. He pats the space on the mattress where I slept with one eye open and his face buried in the pillow.

I sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at him, with my arms covering my chest. He rolls onto his back, flashing a set of chiseled abs and his perfect smile that distract me. So does his morning wood that tents the covers.

As much as I want to admit last night was a mistake or that any of the times we had sex was a mistake, he makes it impossible. The moment Dean flashes one of his boyish grins at me, I melt all over again. I will never regret asking him to take my virginity. But what I do regret is not following through on our sexual feelings.

He rubs my thigh with a seductive look in his eyes. “It’s still me, Kitten. Nothing has changed. Okay?”

Dean always says the right thing, and at the exact time, I need to hear it. I was afraid he would distance himself from me after we had sex the first time. Oddly enough, I was the one who felt different. Every time we get closer, I withdraw. And I have no idea why. Sex with Dean was everything I’d ever imagined and more. He makes every time feel like a new experience. But he’s still my best friend.

I smile over my shoulder at Dean, and he takes that as his cue to wrap his arms around me, lowering me onto the mattress. Dean’s sheets are so soft that I wrap myself in them and snuggle with him, same as always. This part of our relationship is no different from before.

I roll over to face him, cocooning myself in the blankets. “Morning.”

Dean leans back against the wooden headboard. “Morning, beautiful.” He pushes my hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

“Do you want to get breakfast? We could go down to Broad Street Beans.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I could use some greasy food to soak up all the alcohol.”

“You have such a weak stomach,” he jokes.

“I can’t help it. I guess I’m not built for pounding shots like you.”

He sits up and readjusts himself, propping his elbow up on the edge of my pillow so that we are sharing it. Our eyes meet, and the tension between us burns like a lit match. We never needed words to communicate. But being this close to Dean never had this effect on me before. Now, I am all too aware of his proximity and how my body responds to him.

Every movement he makes causes me to react in some way. My heart beats a little faster when he pushes down the covers, exposing my bare breasts to the cold air. Dean watches me, as I suck in a deep breath that I have yet to let out, and pinches my nipple between his fingers. I close my eyes that he forces open once his hand travels down my stomach and between my legs.

“Dean,” I mumble.

He breathes heavily against the shell of my ear, picking up the pace, and whispers, “Come for me, Kitten.”

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