Page 63 of Walkoff Wedding

Reese: Not really seeing a problem here?

Lane: For fuck’s sake Reese. The problem is that this is supposed to be a mutually beneficial arrangement between the two of them. Which means he’s supposed to be keeping his hands to himself.

Grant: Exactly, and since that seems to be becoming a problem, I’m realizing that I might be really fucking fucked.

Reese: Why can’t you just… Idk, have a “friends with benefits” kind of thing?

Lane: Because that shit always complicates things.

Reese: Yeah, well what’s wrong with a little complication? That worked out for you and Hallie. And, look how great Viv and I turned out.

Grant: Subjective.

Reese: Shut up. All I’m saying is if you want her, then go for it.

Lane: Possibly the worst advice in history. But, then again, Grant’s usually the one giving the advice so…

Before I can respond to their messages, there’s a loud thud against the bedroom wall that causes me to freeze. My brows pinch as I glance up at the door, wondering what happened.

Shit, what if Addie slipped in the shower? Immediately, I’m on edge, listening for any sign of distress. And then… a few seconds later, it happens again. And then… again.

I toss my phone down onto the cushion and jog over to the closed bedroom door, pressing my ear against it and listening intently. I feel like a creep, but I just want to make sure she’s okay and doesn’t need me.

It’s not like we aren’t technically sharing the bedroom now anyway.

But when I hear Addie’s strangled voice crying out my name for help, I don’t hesitate for even a moment.

I wrench the door open and burst inside, skidding to a complete halt when I see her sprawled out on the bed, her soft blonde hair spread around her like a halo, wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt that falls around her hips. Hips that are writhing on the pillow stuffed between her legs. She lets out a frustrated sigh and groans, still not realizing I’m even here.

Motherfucking god.

Is…

Suddenly, Addie stills, her eyes popping open, revealing pools of inky blue as they notice me in the dim light of the lamp.

“G-Grant? Oh my g—” Her voice is low and hoarse, barely recognizable as she yelps, then scrambles to jerk the blanket over her. “I… I…”

Sweet, innocent Addie was… getting herself off. In my bed.

And she said my fucking name as she did it.

I’m frozen in place, my feet glued to the floor as if they’ve become a permanent fixture on the hardwood. I should look away, or… I don’t know, leave, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do it. Not when I know that it was my name she was saying as she was trying to make herself come.

“Addie…” I murmur hoarsely. “I thought something was wrong. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

I trail off when she disappears beneath the covers, pulling the comforter up so high it covers the top of her head. Walking around the foot of the bed, I sit at the edge of the mattress, gently pulling down the covers to reveal her pretty face. Her cheeks are bright red as she squeezes her eyes shut tightly, avoiding looking at me at all.

“I shouldn’t have busted in without knocking. I’m sorry, I just… I was worried and thought you needed me.”

She groans, bringing her hands to her face, hiding from me further behind her slender fingers. Something I know she does when she’s really embarrassed, but she shouldn’t be. If only she knew how fucking hard it makes me to think about her touching herself… thinking of me. I wish she knew how beautiful she looks right now, with her cheeks flushed and her chest still heaving from exertion. So beautiful it makes me physically ache with the need to touch her.

Maybe then she wouldn’t question herself for a second longer.

Which is why I decide to not hold back. I say exactly what I’m thinking, consequences be damned.

“What do you need, Addie?” My voice is so husky it surprises even me.

Her body tenses as she drops her hands from her face, peering up at me with hesitant eyes. “W-what do you mean?”

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