Page 11 of Breathless

At first, all my monkey brain can process is skin. Golden skin. Smooth planes with faint freckles. And curves. So many fuckingcurves.

Despite my hacking cough, I still manage to ogle the woman, who’s now decked out in what have to be Tori’s clothes. Because I have never seen Joey put so much on display. Even when we go swimming, she always wears a giant T-shirt over hersuit.

I’m not judging. Women should wear whatever they want. I’m not some Neanderthal. I’m just not used to my friend in this context. The limited clothingcontext.

As I stare at her, two words come to mind:Mouthwatering tits.Damn, she’sstacked.

Is it hot in here? I take one more gulp of my tea, feeling like I got struck in the face by a two-by-four. How have I not ever noticed that my best friend is alarmingly attractive? It’s like my head always knew this, but the rest of me is only now catchingon.

Awkwardly, she tugs at her tank, to pull it away from her stomach. She’s shy, and judging from the flush crawling up her neck, she’s feeling it nowtoo.

I wonder where else she getsflushed.

Not cool,dude.

I’m about to turn away when I catch a glimpse of her round little ass in those snug shorts. Fuckme.

My cock agrees with a heartynod.

Clenching my eyes shut, I think of all the disgusting things I can. Like that time Patrick puked up eggs through his nose after going on a bender. Or how much horse shit I have to shovel when one of our ranch hands calls in sick. Or when my nephew crapped all over my lap when he wastwo.

Better.

My dick stands down enough that I can lean back in my seat, but now I’m wary. Joey and I have spent tons of time together over the years, and I’ve never been so affected by herpresence.

Is that why I was acting like a tool out on the front stoop, grabbing her and telling Patrick to piss off? I’ve been a dick to him all day for no good reason, except maybe he’s right… I’m feeling territorial about Joey. More than my typical BFFconcerns.

I’m gonna need something stronger than tea to wrap my head aroundthis.

Sure, I’ve missed her. Been upset with her for disappearing on me. Wanted to straighten things between us, but the thoughts hurtling through my brain have more to do with exploring that tight little body rather than reuniting with an oldpal.

And that’s a line I’ve never crossed. But given how my friends and family constantly encourage the “Team LoJo” relationship, it’s no wonder my thoughts are goinghaywire.

I’ve had her firmly placed in the little sister category for so long that even when she grew curves, I’ve always tried to ignoreit.

Except…

Except for that onespring.

A flash of a memory from my senior year breaks out of the box I keep all the shit from that time lockeddown.

Of her laughing. Of us talking in the barn. She was only fourteen and so fucking beautiful. It was always her eyes that got me. Pierced me down to my soul—the way she looked at me. The way she trustedme.

And as someone once pointed out, women should never trustme.

No, the year my father passed away changed everything, and there’s no goingback.

Angrily, I thrust my hand into my hair and lock the past away where it’s been for the last eightyears.

“We need food!” Mila chants, and I pause my mental bullshit long enough to give my niece anoogie.

This thing with Joey will pass. I’m just tired. Been working seventy-hour weeks, here at the farm and at a side gig that’s not such a side giganymore.

Something’s gottagive.

My sanity, itappears.

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