Page 31 of Top Shelf

He swallows, but then he smiles, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and putting the other behind my headrest. His body relaxes a little, and I know he’s trying to make me think he’s cool, confident, collected…not nervous or anxious.

It’s all pretend.

And then I wonder how long we are both going to try and keep up the charade.

And I wonder who is going to give in first.

“My place it is,baby,”he says, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling too big.

A few minutes later, we’re pulling up to his house and pulling into his driveway. He leads me up the steps and unlocks the door, Odie running to us and jumping up on me, licking my face and gripping me with his paws.

Tyson just stares at us both, jaw dropped.

“Odie, you just broke my damn heart,” he says, holding a hand to his chest. I laugh as I scratch Odie’s ears, setting him down gently on the floor. We walk inside, and I let myself bask in the scent of my best friend. His whole house smells just like he always has—that familiar, nostalgic, musty, woodsy scent of the boy I once loved and the man I’m trying desperately not to.

“You hungry?” he asks. I shake my head as I set my jacket down on the back of the couch.

“Oh, God, no,” I say, patting my stomach. “I forgot how good of a cook your dad is.” He smiles at me.

“A drink?”

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head again.

“Okay,” he says, looking lost, “what can I get for you, then?”

I think for a moment as I stare at him from across the room. His dark hair is a little out of place now, and the weight of the day has descended on him, but he just looks so damn yummy. There’s the voice of reason in the back of my head, screaming at me.

Don’t hurt him again.

Don’t let him hurtyou.

It’s all pretend.

Don’t give in…

But as I watch him walk around the house, getting us both glasses of water, feeding the dog, I just…wanthim. And when our eyes finally meet when he’s done tidying up, I realize something else.

I want him to wantme.

“How about…a shower?” I ask, biting my lip. His lips part slightly, his eyes narrowed and hooded. He walks toward me slowly until he gets to the bottom of the steps where I’m standing so that we’re inches apart.

“A shower it is,” he says, his voice low. He takes my hand and spins me around, leading me up the stairs. With every step, I can feel my heart beating harder until it feels like I can’t catch my breath. He leads me down the hall to the last bedroom on the right and opens the door. And then I feel like I’m seeing something I’m not supposed to see. His bedroom. His sanctuary. It’s pretty clean, actually. A big, wooden bed in the middle of the room, matching dresser and nightstands—and I take note that there are two—and everything is tidy. No clothes anywhere, no dishes or anything else strewn about. Just him.

He reaches into the dresser and pulls out a t-shirt, tossing it to me and immediately drowning me in his scent. He gives me a quick half-smile and then walks through the room into his master bath. I hear the water turn on, and I freeze.

Oh, fuck. What am I doing?

He comes back out and nods his head toward the shower for me to follow him. So I do. When I get into the bathroom, he’s pulling a towel out of the cabinet in the corner of the room. He puts it down on the counter and then turns to look at me. He stalks toward me slowly, and I feel my palms getting sweaty. He stops when he’s directly in front of me, then reaches for the hem of my shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. I swallow as he tugs it up gently over my head, dropping it to the floor. Then he reaches down and unbuttons my jeans, unzipping them and letting them fall too. I swallow again, his eyes still on mine.

Then he reaches around and unhooks my bra, and I feel myself starting to breathe heavier.

Holy fuck.

My bra slides off my arms, and he kicks it away.

Finally, he reaches a hand down, sliding it past my belly button and into the top of my panties. I feel his fingers getting closer and closer to my warmth.

Then he lets one slide down my slit, letting it glide between my folds.

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