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Nothing.
She’s either A—regretting the whole thing or B—pissed at me.
Or C—all of the above.
Probably C.
But I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to do. She’d looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes, begging for me to take her.
I did what any guy would’ve done when the woman of his dreams is pleading for him to extinguish the ache between her thighs … though I probably didn’t do what a guy who was best friends with her brothers should have done.
By the time my first break rolls around, I escape the confines of the hospital and head to the sandwich shop on the corner. I’m paying for my turkey hoagie when a familiar voice behind me says, “Well, look what the tide washed in.”
I scan the line behind me, searching for a familiar face. And I find it. In the form of Cooper Hutton—Stassi’s oldest brother.
My childhood best friend.
Playing it cool, I collect my change and tuck my sandwich under my arm before sidling up to him and giving him one of our old handshake-high-five combinations. Funny how easy it is to pretend that barely a day has passed since we last talked, even though it’s been years. I was always worried he’d written me off for not keeping in touch, but judging by the grin on his face, he seems happy to see me.
If he knew what I did to his sister last night, that grin would be flipping upside down faster than I’d have time to dodge his famous left hook.
I never meant to drift apart from the Hutton brothers, but unfortunately that sort of thing is all too common after high school when everyone goes their separate ways and gets lost in the busyness of their new lives and routines.
“Hey, what are you doing here, man?” I say. “Thought I heard you were up in Lewiston?”
Cooper’s looking a lot different than I remember. He traded in the clean-cut hockey player look for full-on lumberjack. He’s older, hairier, his long, sandy-blond hair stuffed under a wool beanie, a full beard practically touching his chest. Heavy flannel, faded jeans, work boots.
He nods, his face a hardened mask. “Had some business down here. Asses to kick. You know.”
I stiffen. Is my ass on that list?
He couldn’t know.
Not already.
Could he?
He and Stassi were close, but I can’t imagine they’re so close she’d call him up two seconds after I left her in my bed and give him a full rundown. She was the one who said she didn’t want them to know.
Cautiously, I venture, “Oh, yeah?”
He reaches down to grab a bag of jalapeño chips. I notice he’s put on a few pounds since our high school days. Back then, the three of us used to work in sync on the ice, like we shared a mind. I sure as hell hope we don’t share a mind anymore …
“Yeah. Had to drop off a shipment.” He runs his hand along the side of his jaw before stroking his beard. “Aidan’s going to go apeshit when I tell him you’re in town. What are you even doing here anyway? Your folks moved, what, like ten years ago or something?”
“Just moved back. I’m working in the ER.”
He finally grins, and I relax. “No kidding? When were you going to tell us, asshole? You got a place?”
“Yeah. By Ted’s.”
His eyes go wide. “The pizza place? You know, that’s where Stassi lives.”
I play dumb. “Really? Small world.”
“You haven’t seen her around?” He arches a single brow, skeptical.
Avoiding the question, I say, “I just moved in four days ago.”
“Oh, yeah.” He claps me on the back. “Big doctor and all. You’re probably busy as hell. But we need to get together. Soon. Go out for some brews. Maybe do some lobstering. Sound good?”
I nod, wondering how far he’d kick my ass if he knew what I’d done last night, that I was balls deep in his sister and she was loving every minute of it.
“Yeah, of course,” I say.
We trade numbers, though it turns out, I already had his. It hasn’t changed. And I’m sure he had mine. There just didn’t seem to be any reason to communicate when we were in totally different universes.
“I’ll definitely give you a call, man,” he says as he walks to the front of the line to order.
“Take care,” I say.
“Rah, Panthers!” He suddenly shouts from the other side of the small place, turning the heads of every person in line. He pumps his fist in the air, and I respond with my own half-hearted pump. Haven’t heard our fight cheer in ages. Didn’t think I’d ever hear it again, honestly.
After Maine Medical Center made me a job offer I couldn’t refuse—agreeing to pay off all of my loans after five years of employment, I fully intended on laying low, not making any waves, and biding my time until the next thing came along—whatever that would be.
