Page 43 of Best Friends
My stomach swirls with memories of those lustful kisses we shared in the elevator. “Y… yes. So what?”
“Kissing is intimate. Kissing doesn’t have to be a part of jerking someone off. You must know that. I’ll bet those guys his pal was telling him about didn’t kiss. Hewantedto kiss you. Hewanted you sexually. He planned the whole thing because he’s been in love with you for years. I’d bet a million dollars, Carrick.”
I’ve wanted this for so long.
“Okay,” I say impatiently. “But even if that’s true, it doesn’t mean it’lllast. That’s all I’m saying. I don’t think Malcolm can stay with just one person. I don’t think it’s in his nature.”
“And I think you’re wrong. He wouldn’t want to be public if he wasn’t certain of his feelings for you.”
I hang my head, feeling tired. “I’d love it if that were true, Chey. But I… I just don’t trust it yet.”
She pats my arm. “Well, luckily, it sounds like Malcolm is willing to give you the time you need to come to terms with things.”
“I just hope he doesn’t lose patience with me.” Even if I don’t trust Malcolm will stay with me forever, I’d like this thing between us to last as long as possible.
“Yes,” she murmurs. “Me too. Don’t take forever to trust Malcolm. Sounds like he’s dying to show the world you’re his.” She pulls into my driveway as she finishes speaking.
“I just don’t want to be made a fool of.” I glance at the small ranch house I’ve called home for the past five years. The low, clean lines of the brick exterior catch the late afternoon sun, and the wide front porch still has last week’s grocery flyer tucked into the railing. The yard isn’t fancy, but it’s neat, patchy grass trimmed, porch swept, windows clean. It’s nothing special, but it’s mine.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She gives me an encouraging smile. “I truly believe Malcolm loves you and only you.”
“I wish I had half the certainty you do, Chey,” I say softly, climbing out of the car.
“Hey, Carrick,” she calls out when I start to shut the car door. I hesitate and she continues. “Don’t sabotage this relationship just because you’re scared.”
“I don’t plan on doing that.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but you’ve done it before with the girls you’ve dated. This is different because it’s Malcolm. Don’t lose sight of that.”
“I’ll do my best not to fuck things up.” I grimace and close the door.
As I make my way to the house my pulse picks up at the sight of Malcolm’s red pickup pulling into the driveway just as Cheyenne pulls out. She honks her horn and Malcolm waves at her. He’s earlier than I thought he’d be, but that just makes me happy. I’ve missed him and can’t wait to spend the rest of our day together.
However, when Malcolm gets out of his truck, his face is flushed and he looks angry. As he approaches, he growls, “So, I hear you have a hot date tonight with Amanda.”
Chapter Eight
I’m taken aback by how angry he is and even more shocked that he knows about the date with Amanda. I’ve never seen Malcolm this furious, and he’s definitely never been this angry with me before. His eyes are a piercing blue, his jaw locked tight. He’s intimidating as he focuses all that bristling alpha energy on me. It’s so intense I take a step back, uneasiness rippling through me.
“Calm down,” I say gruffly, holding out a hand.
He narrows his eyes, shoulders tight. “What the fuck is going on, C.?” His voice is hoarse and raw with pain. “First you ditch me to go off with Chey, and now you’re blowing me off tonight too so you can go on adate?”
“No, I’m not going on a date.”
“That’s not what I heard. Cecila called me and told me you asked Amanda out and she was hoping we could make it a double date again.”
“Cecilia called you?” That came out of left field. It never occurred to me Amanda might call Cecila about the date. “I’m not going on a date with Amanda.”
“Then why would Cecilia say that?” He steps closer, his mouth a grim line. “Don’t fucking lie to me right now. I need to know what’s happening.”
A lawn mower starts up in the yard across the street, and I meet the curious gaze of my neighbor, Jerry. “Let’s go insideso we can talk privately,” I say, turning and heading to my front door.
Malcolm hesitates but then follows.
My hands are shaking as I slip the key in the lock. “It’s not what you think, Malc. I swear.”
He just grunts and follows me into the house. He stands near the couch, face flushed and eyes still glittering with pain and confusion. I shut the door and go to him. When I reach out to touch his arm, he steps out of reach, eyes dark with suspicion.
