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Like he was open to halting the transformation into his old man and becoming more like his old self—he also wanted Sabrina to find her old self. She used to be confident; certain about what she wanted. Evidence of both her confidence and certainty made an appearance now and then, but not often enough. He’d hoped her going back to doing what she loved, painting, would unlock that door for her.
She was hell-bent on taking care of him, but what she didn’t know was that he was returning the favor. He wasn’t the only one in need of change in his life.
So was his best-friend-turned-lover.
Halfway into making their second batch of Jell-O shots, Sabrina was feeling darn pleased with herself for convincing Flynn to give it a try.
After their burger-and-coffee date, they stopped at a supermarket to procure what they needed to make strawberry and lime Jell-O shots. Flynn had a liquor cabinet that was well-stocked, though he hesitated slightly before allowing her to put the Cabo Wabo tequila into the lime Jell-O. He insisted it was better enjoyed straight. Good thing she was convincing.
Plastic containers stacked in his fridge to solidify, Flynn excused himself to the bathroom while she wiped down the countertops with damp paper towels. She lifted his phone to move it when it buzzed in her hand. A quick glance at the screen showed a message from Veronica. A second buzz followed—another message from her, as well.
Sabrina caught the words “so sorry” and “mistake” before she placed the phone facedown on the counter and stared at it like it was a live cobra.
It wasn’t her fault she’d seen Veronica’s name or accidentally read a word or two, but she would be culpable if she flipped the phone over to read the messages in their entirety.
And oh how she wanted to...
But.
She wouldn’t.
She finished cleaning the kitchen and Flynn returned, cracked open a beer and took a long pull. She waited for him to lift his cell phone and check the screen, but he didn’t. Not even when she picked up hers.
“It’s supposed to be partly sunny tomorrow.” She showed him the cartoon sun and cloud on her cell phone’s screen.
“Good day for you to paint,” he said, taking another sip from his beer bottle.
She checked her personal email next, deleting a few newsletters from clothing stores before coming across an email from her mom. Her mother lived in Sacramento with Sabrina’s stepfather and checked in once a week. She was a technical writer and considered any form of communication other than the written one superfluous. Sabrina was keying in a reply when she noticed Flynn finally reaching for his cell phone.
He gave the screen a cursory glance, frowned and then pocketed it.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask “why the frown?” but she didn’t. When he didn’t offer any intel either, she returned her attention to her own phone. She finished the email to her mom and clicked Send, more than a little troubled that Flynn hadn’t confided in her that Veronica was clearly trying to weasel her way back into his life.
“What do we do while the Jell-O sets?”
“You have to ask?” He plucked the phone from her hand and gripped her hips, pulling her against him. He dipped his head to kiss her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the slow slide of their lips and tongues.
She fit against him like she was designed to be there, her breasts against his chest and her hips nestled against his. How had she never noticed that before? He slanted his head to deepen the kiss, and a low male groan vibrated off her rib cage.
Wait. That last vibration was his phone.
She pulled her lips from his when the buzz came from his pocket again. “Do you need to get that?”
“No.” He rerouted them from the kitchen to the stairs, climbing with her while kissing her. Their lips pulled apart several times during the clumsy ascent, their laughter quelled by more kisses.
She shouldn’t be jealous of Veronica, for goodness’ sake. Veronica wasn’t in Flynn’s bed—Sabrina was.
“Your room or mine?” Her voice was a seductive purr.
“My bed is bigger.” He kept walking her backward, his eyes burning hers and his mouth hovering close. “I have a plan for you and it’s going to require a lot of room.”
“Oh, really?”
“Probably. Are you a squirmer?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I have to taste you, Sabrina. I have to know.”
