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“Take me to bed, Tank. I mean, take me home.” She giggles. “I need to go to bed.”
“Come on, you.” With my arm around her waist and hers around mine, I lead her to the door. “We’re heading out,” I announce. My parents left a couple of hours ago with Blakely, as did Deacon’s parents. It’s just my brothers, their wives, Hank, who owns the bar, Heath and Piper, and the bride and groom left in attendance. Basically, everyone who’s been here all night, minus our parents and Blakely.
“Drive safe!” Ramsey calls out, and I wave at her.
I should probably make my rounds and say goodbye, but everyone was starting to do that, and I really do need to get Alyssa home. When we reach my truck, I lift her inside and buckle her in.
Her head lulls to the side. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers.
I lean into the cab and rest my palm against her cheek. “Never,” I assure her. “You will never lose me.” I mean that with every ounce of my soul. Even if that means I have to sit on the sidelines and watch her love someone else, Alyssa will always be a part of my life. It’s a fate I’ll have to accept, and one that has bile rising in my throat. No one can love her like I can.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Alyssa
“If I keep sitting here, I’m going to fall asleep,” I tell Sterling. We’re sprawled out on my couch, watching a new series we started last night, and now we’re both addicted.
“We can change it so you won’t miss anything, and then you can go to sleep,” he offers helpfully.
He’s been this way for all the years I’ve known him. He’s selfless and always puts me first. Every time I hear that song by Gabby Barrett, “The Good Ones,” Sterling always comes to mind. All his brothers are that way, but he’s always been the standout brother to me.
“I have to make something to take tomorrow.”
“To take where?” he asks, pulling my legs onto his lap and massaging my feet.
I’ve managed to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him, even though he tried to get me to snuggle. My heart screamed yes, while my head reminded me that I needed to put up some boundaries.
Friends.
Friends.
Friends.
“To your parents’.” I bite down on my cheek to keep from moaning when he hits a sore spot on the arch of my foot. He gives the best massages. My mind instantly goes to being sprawled out naked on my bed with his hands all over me. That image has been happening a lot since our weekend getaway, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to stop it. I overanalyze every touch and every look. Every conversation.Everything! I feel like I’m on one of those rides that spin at the county fair. You know, the one where it spins, and you fall from one side to the other? That’s me in my mind. One minute I’m firm that we will only ever be friends, and the next, I’m planning how I can seduce him and make him mine in every way possible.
I’m losing my mind.
“I told you that you don’t have to make anything.”
“I know, but I want to. Your mom cooks for all of us, and I just feel like I need to take something. We go over this every time we go. You know this about me,” I remind him.
“And you need to remember that you’re not a guest, Tink. You’re family. You know Mom’s going to give you shit like she always does.”
He’s not wrong about that. Carol Kincaid scolds me every single time. She claims I’m family and she enjoys taking care of her family. It melts my heart for the woman who has been a second mom to me for the majority of my life. I love Carol and Raymond Kincaid like I love my own parents. “That’s fine, but I’m doing it anyway. The others are pregnant. They have a good excuse, and even then, they still bring something.”
“Not every week like you.”
I shrug. “I can’t help it. It’s just something that I need to do.” It’s hard to explain. I know that Carol and Raymond tell me that I’m family, and so do the rest of them. However, I still feel as though contributing in some way is important. It’s how I was raised, and I’ll probably never change.
“Just something else I love about you.” He smiles, and his blue eyes are soft as they take me in. “What are we making?” he asks.
It’s not the first time he’s said those words to me, but I’m suddenly wishing they meant something different. I wish that he was in love with me. “I don’t know yet. I need to see what I have without having to go to the store.”
“Come on then, lazybones.” He smirks and maneuvers my legs so he can stand. Instead of offering me his hand to help me up like I expect him to, he tears the cover off my lap, bends, picks me up, and hoists me over his shoulder.
“Sterling!” I laugh, smacking his ass as he carries me to the kitchen. “I can walk, Tank,” I remind him loudly. The blood is rushing to my head and all I can think about is taking a bite out of his tight ass in the loose-fitting basketball shorts he’s wearing. It would be easy to just slide my hands beneath the waistband.
Before my mind can go any further in that particular runaway train, he places me on the small island in my kitchen. Instead of pulling away, he braces his hands on the counter on either side of me. The pulse in my neck starts to race. Two months ago, I would have laughed it off, maybe looped my arms around him and blown a raspberry on his face. Now, all I can see is the intimacy between us.
