Page 35 of Reach Around

Lynsie ducks out early, herding a stumbling Heath toward the exit. Franklin and Pru, always the mom and pop of the group, start rounding up the stragglers, and that includes Joely.

Bennett cocks an eyebrow at me. “We can take her home, you know. No problem at all.”

“Yeah, I know.” I scratch the back of my neck, feeling the weight of his gaze. “But she’s my date. I’ll do it.”

“Oh, now she’s yourdate,” Bennett chuckles, shaking his head. “You couldn’t even pick her up, you goon.”

“She told me she was going with Lynsie,” I shoot back, more defensively than I intended. “I totally asked to pick her up.”

“You have so much to learn,” Bennett mutters, but he claps me on the shoulder, a silent approval passing between us.

People are lingering by the doors, waiting for rides, hugging goodbyes, heels dangling from tired hands. I walk Joely out into the cold night, the aftertaste of that dance still humming between us. She doesn’t say much—neither do I. The city feels different, like it’s watching us, holding its breath.

Bennett fires off one last jab about my lack of game, but even he keeps it lighter than usual, like he senses everything’s shifted. I hold the truck door for Joely and try to play it cool, but my hands are shaking a little as I hand her up, and she slides inside.

By the time I circle around and climb into the driver’s seat, it hits me: whatever we were before, we’re not that anymore. The night air is thick with things unsaid. I start the engine, throw the truck in gear, and we drift out into the city lights—two people caught in a silence that feels anything but empty.

The drive to Joely’s place is quiet. Too quiet. Every now and then, I steal a glance at her, the soft glow of the streetlights playing across her face. She’s beautiful, stunning really, and it’s messing with my head in ways I hadn’t expected.

She groans, breaking the silence.

“What’d I do wrong?” I ask, half-joking, half-serious.

“Nothing. I just realized I should’ve gone home with Lynsie,” she says, a hint of frustration in her voice.

“Why? I’m not drunk. My driving is fine…” I trail off, unsure.

Joely shifts in her seat, the movement drawing my eyes to the delicate line of her neck. “I can’t get out of this dress without help.”

My throat goes dry, and I have to swallow hard before I can speak. “I can help,” I say, my voice a bit too eager.

Joely turns to look at me, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “I guess. I mean… I’m like a sister, right?”

“Sure,” I reply, the word feeling like a lie the moment it leaves my lips. “Totally.”

When we pull up to her house, the air between us is charged, thick with unspoken words and tentative glances. As we walk to her door, my hands are itching to touch her, to pull her close and erase any doubt about how I see her.

Inside, the tension only grows. After she takes her long wool coat off and hangs it on a hook by the door, Joely turns her back to me, her hair spilling over her shoulders, and I see the tiny zipper that’s the only thing keeping her in that dress. My hands hesitate, then reach out, brushing against her skin as I pull the zipper down slowly, agonizingly slowly.

The air is thick with the scent of her perfume, and my heart pounds against my ribs. This isn’t how siblings should feel, is it? This tension, this need, this overwhelming urge to stay close and never let go.

My whole body’s wired tight, blood rushing south so fast it’s almost dizzying. I’m hard—painfully so, honestly—and every nerve ending’s screaming at me to close the space, to take this exactly where I’ve wanted for longer than I’ll admit. Just the brush of my fingers against her skin has me fighting every instinct to keep it together. There’s nothing brotherly about the ache in my chest or the heat low in my gut. I want her—bad. And right now, all my old lines are breaking.

As the zipper slides down, my breath hitches. Beneath the sophisticated exterior of her cocktail dress, Joely’s hiding asecret—a set of black lace lingerie that looks like it’s ripped straight from an Instagram feed, complete with stockings and garters. The whole nine yards.

What the hell is she doing to me?

The fabric parts, revealing more and more of her secret attire, and my hands tremble with the effort of keeping things platonic. But it’s too much, way too much.

“I can get it from here.” Joely’s voice snaps me back to reality, a hint of laughter and warning mixed in her tone.

“Sorry,” I mutter, stepping back as she turns around, clutching the dress to her chest. The room feels ten degrees hotter, and it’s all I can do not to close the distance again.

Joely fixes me with a look that’s all challenge and heat. “Don’t start what you can’t finish,” she says, her voice low.

Swallowing hard, I run a hand through my hair, trying to find my footing in a world that feels tilted. “So… I may have embellished a little about the sister thing.”

“How’s that?” Her eyebrow arches, curious and cautious all at once.

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