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The only thing was, that was six months ago. I’d been blowing them off until now.
So, maybeI’dreached out tothemabout the job this time.
But lifehaddefinitely been crazy.
Hendrix: Sure. I get it. See you around, Ken.
That was a bucket of ice-cold water. It hit me like a spear to the heart. This was a job for Ben & Jerry. Chateau St. Michelle might need to get involved. Or Tito’s. It was a coin toss.
I tossed my phone onto the couch and headed toward the kitchen, jumping when someone knocked on the front door. It was seven o’clock at night. I had a whopping three friends in Coree Harbor. Two of them were playing a beach volleyball tournament in Wilmington this weekend, and the other was Hendrix. Everyone else was simply an acquaintance or someone I’d planned a wedding for.
Everyone knew everyone in Coree Harbor. We were a quaint coastal town in North Carolina. We were known for southern hospitality and good food. I’d lived here all my life, aside from the four years I went to college in Asheville.
And next week, I would leave it behind.
“Hendrix,” I said when I opened the door to find him standing there.
“I lied.” He kicked the door closed behind him, then pulled me against him and held me tight. “I don’t get it.” My body shuddered when he ran his hand up and down my back. “I told you I’d fucking kill you if you tried to leave me.”
Coming from anyone else in the world, that statement would be creepy as hell, but this was Hendrix. I was safe with him.
“Why does our friendship suddenly feel like an Eminem and Rhianna song?”
He chuckled against my hair. “It’s better than that sappy shit you listen to.”
How dare he curse the queen that way. Taylor was the goddess of heartbreak lyrics.
“Take it back.” I pulled from his hold and punched his bicep. My fingers cracked. Seriously? He wasn’t even flexing.
His eyes flickered. “You done now?”
I wrung my hand, then inspected my knuckles. He laughed, then pinned me against the wall, holding my arms above my head. His eyes narrowed and glinted with mischief. One corner of his mouth twisted up in a smirk. I knew that look. Hendrix was about to tickle me until I cried. I always cried. There was nothing in life I hated more than being tickled. I’d rather be stuck in traffic for three hours with a full bladder and no cup to pee in than be tickled. Yet here he was between my legs with his chin poked out and ready to dig into my armpits, then down my sides the way he always did.
Again, we’d done this a hundred times. Why would this one be any different?
Because this time as we stood here face-to-face and body-to-body, I was very aware of how my cleavage moved as I breathed. I watched his playful gaze darken as he studied my face, stopping on my mouth, then traveling down to my breasts. This time, I felt myself get wet just from being this close to him, from smelling him and watching him watch me. This time, I memorized the way he looked—from his soft brown eyes to his full lips and the sharp line of his jaw. I soaked it all in and filed it underThings to think about when you ring the Devil’s doorbell.
This time, as he pressed his hips into my stomach, he was hard.
He closed his eyes and lowered his head, resting his forehead against mine. “Goddammit,” he groaned before backing off of me. “Fuck, Ken. I’m sorry.”
For wanting more? Because if that was the case, I needed to apologize, go to confession, and donate all my free time to saving dolphins and orphans.
I reached for him. “It’s okay.”
He didn’t pull away when my hand gripped his forearm, but he shook his head. “No. It’s not.”
Hendrix stepped away from me, adjusting himself over his pants as he stood. I tried—and failed—to avert my gaze from his not-so-surprisingly-impressive package.Good grief, Kennedy look at his stomach or thighs or his freaking kneecaps for crying out loud.No matter what else I tried to focus on, there it was. Like a neon sign on a dark street.
“Keep looking at my dick like that and I’m going to pull it out and fuck you with it.”
Oh, God. Please do.As if on cue, the inside of my panties turned into Mt. Gushmore.
Stop it. Stop it right now. What the hell is wrong with you?
I forced myself to glance up and met his golden-brown eyes focused on my face, studying, searching for something, anything. I swallowed hard but kept my mouth shut.
Why did it feel as though I’d been waiting my whole life to hear those words, but all I wanted to do was bolt for the door?
