He coughed, that bulge he’d readjusted probably needing additional attention as he took a step toward the door. “Sure, whatever you want.”
“Maybe I’ll make myself come again before I do.” My hand moved from the hem of my top to my waistband. “You know, since I’ll already be naked.”
His look was heated, almost murderous, as he froze. “You are not playing fair.”
I laughed, unable to help myself.
Of course, I’d been kidding. Because not only was my body still limp from the orgasm he’d given me, but I wasn’t perverted enough to get myself off while everyone else was downstairs. Sure, that was pretty hypocritical since I’d seemed to have no problem at all when he was doing it, but logic was funny like that.
“Go,” I motioned to the door, “I promise I was joking.”
With one final kiss and a heated huff, he left me alone in the room. I heard the faucet running from the bathroom down the hall, waiting until I heard his footsteps descending the stairs before I finally allowed myself to take off my clothes. I didn’t trust myself. Or him either to be honest, knowing how easy it would be to pull him back into the room and finish what we started.
Uh, so much for not being a pervert.
Shaking my head and reminding myself his entire family was downstairs including his mother, I got my clothes out of my bag and started to change.
His room hadn’t changed much since he’d moved out. It was painted the same slate grey, just with a fresh coat, his old queen-sized bed pushed against the wall. But the energy was different, the smell of him gone when he’d walked out the door instead of lingering in the room like it used to when he slept there. I liked it, the fresh scent of his cologne or deodorant, the thought of it making me smile. The memory of sneaking up to his room with the excuse of looking for my brother flashed in my mind. He’d smelled delicious back then too, the urge to bury my face in his pillow still very vivid even though it had been years ago.
It was ridiculous to be so excited about how someone smelled. Surely that wasn’t normal. And yes, I knew the perfume industry had banked millions on the idea of being able to entice us with concoctions designed to send us into a frenzy, but frenzied wasn’t what I felt.
I felt happy, safe, content. Like my heart was expanding in my chest as my lungs drew it in. It wasn’t sexual. Okay, it wasn’t just sexual. It was more.
Oh.
My.
God.
It wasn’t just sexual.
And not in the same friendly way I used to appreciate him either. It was different.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I paced nervously around the room, my pulse quickening as I padded around in bare feet. It was waaaaay too soon to be having those kinds of feelings. Not only did I have my bad-news ex still trying to fuck up my life, but I was literally on the verge of the biggest move of my career. I didn’t have time for a serious relationship, not one that attracted the L word.
Had I ever been in love? Like real love, and not just infatuation or lust. Maybe? I didn’t know, my chest tightening as I tried to talk myself off the ledge. It wasn’t the time. It was NOT the time. And it wasn’t like I could just confess to Jared I was tangled up in feelings. I mean, obviously we’d cared about each other for a really long time, but this was so incredibly different.
I was in love with a guy—and other than Raelle and Bennett—no one knew I was even dating.
Fuck.
“You okay there, Sweetie?” Leighton’s mom rapped at the door. “We’re just about to sit down and have dinner, you find everything you need?”
Yes, unfortunately I did, Orla, but the fucking timing sucks and now I’m in love with your amazing son and I don’t think he loves me like that.
“Yes,” I croaked out, trying to clear my throat as I pulled open the door. “I’m sorry, I just thought since I was up here it was just easier to get changed.”
Her smile spread, looking me over from head to toe as she crossed the threshold and entered the room. “Oh, Presley, you look stunning.”
“Thanks.” I nodded, not wanting to correct her that I was actually a hot mess and wasn’t even taking into account my shoeless feet and smudged makeup. I was so far from stunning in every single way and my head was spinning out of control.
She clasped my hands, tapping them with hers as she took in my outfit. It was my Stella McCartney cocktail dress which plunged low at the front so I couldn’t wear a bra. Which probably wasn’t appropriate when I was going to be sitting around children, and something I should have considered before changing.
Fuck.
“I should probably put something else on.” I reached down to my discarded T-shirt on the bed, thinking Jared’s nephew was going to get more familiar with boobs than his parents were probably comfortable with.
“Nonsense. You look lovely. No need to cover up. My heart might belong to the Lord, but I’m not a prude,” she chuckled. “So come down and have dinner. I set a place for you and Justin right beside Jared.”
Great.
“Thanks so much, Orla. That’s so kind. I’ll just be another few minutes, but you can go ahead and start without me.”
She shook her head, watching as I shoved the clothes I’d arrived in back into the bag and pulled out my black patent leather pumps. “You take your time. We’ll get the grandkids started.”
Leaving me to my panic, she closed the bedroom door behind me. Then I was a whirlwind of arms, cleaning up my face and reapplying my makeup as I slid on my shoes. I was so not ready to go down and face Jared. Having to look at him and smile like I hadn’t just discovered I loved him after he fingered me in his old bedroom.
Because who even thinks like that.
Harnessing the bravado of Presley past—the woman who could run one of the biggest nightclubs in the city and negotiate deals with multi-millionaires—I walked out of the safety of the room.
It was fine.
No one could read what was going on in my head, and I certainly didn’t need to be advertising it. Especially not to Jared who was probably expecting a blowjob, not declarations of love and other complicated feelings.
Heads turned when I walked in, eyes focusing on me and my ill-suited dinner attire as I took a seat in between Jared and Tibbs and pretended I didn’t feel the stares.
“That dress is amazing.” Deanna, Leighton’s oldest sister, was the first to talk. “If you weren’t so busy all the time, I’d totally take you out shopping with me to be my personal stylist.”
“As long as you don’t mind waiting a while, I’d love to.” I smiled as I took a seat, Jared’s eyes wide as I shuffled toward the table. His leg pressed against mine, one of his hands disappearing under the table and squeezing my knee.
Blowjobs, I reminded myself. He was thinking about blowjobs.
Thankfully the awkwardness didn’t last long, Maddy—the birthday girl—squealing she was hungry. Then like a huge and unexpected sinkhole, conversations started around the table, ignoring me and my dress.
“So, after we take Presley to work, where do you want to go?” Tibbs asked Leighton, ignoring the heated looks his best friend was giving me.
“I thought we were hanging at Diablo.” Jared cleared his throat, sliding his hand slightly up my leg before extracting it.