Page 69 of Love is an Open Book
He holds up his hands. “Relax, man. It was cute. She clearly thought she was being low-key about it, but she’s obviously into you. Why else would she show up at your house to stain your deck in ninety-degree weather?”
I want to tell him that I know she’s into me, because she made it very clear last night, more than once. But part of me wonders whether the magic of last night will fade with the day, extinguished by the reality of waking up together.
Mia steps back out onto the patio, a six-pack of New Glarus beer in hand, and her eyes slide to mine, like it’s just the two of us out here. That’s when I decide I’m done hiding how I feel.
Twenty-Three
Mia
I step into the shade, fanning myself. It’s blazing out here, but the real reason my skin prickles with warmth is from Gavin’s heated glances, the way his eyes linger on mine before sweeping away, like a stolen touch.
Who is this man, and what has he done with my best friend?
Last night was not at all friendly. It was hot and sexy and more intense than I ever could’ve expected. But then Morris showed up and Gavin acted so closed off that I wondered if he regretted it. If seeing me in normal Mia mode, hanging out with him and the guys—er, guy—had him wondering why he’d ever seen me as something more.
Up until a few minutes ago, he’d been quiet and standoffish, which I attributed to Morris’s surprise visit. A visit that turned out not to be all that unexpected, but I’m used to things like this slipping Gavin’s mind. Half the time he swipes away calendar notifications without reading them or doesn’t bother to enter stuff in the first place. It’s one of the ways we complement each other, me with my lists and him with his tendency to take life as it comes.
I doubt Gavin thought Morris coming by to help him stain the pergola warranted a calendar entry. He probably figured he’d be spending his day off working back here anyway and Morris could show up whenever. He’d never have guessed I’d spend the night and wake up in his bed.
My cheeks heat, despite the shade. What’s happening between us is moving way faster than any of my previous relationships. I met my last boyfriend’s entire family before I even saw his place. And yet I spent the night with Gavin twenty-four hours after our first kiss. Then again, I haven’t just met his family, I’m close with them. We’ve known each other nearly a decade. Knowing each other this way, though, is different.
When he raises the beer to his lips, I can’t help but remember the press of those lips on my own skin. When he swipes his forearm across his brow with a tantalizing flash of biceps, I remember being lifted off my feet, how powerful I felt in surrender to him.
He catches me staring and the corner of his mouth tilts in a grin that sends heat simmering under my skin. Sometime between me going in to grab drinks and coming back out, he’s flipped a switch.
“Need a break?” He steps up next to me, sharing the sliver of shade, and I swallow hard, startled by how physical my want is. I’m used to wanting his attention, his companionship, but this tangible longing is entirely new.
Or is it? My mind flashes back to the early days of our friendship. The sidelong glances I found myself returning. The growing desire that was half the reason I felt the need to make a pledge to stick to friendship. Why form a pact if there was no danger of falling for him?
“You could take a breather inside,” he says when I don’t answer right away. An innocent offer, but I remember exactly what we did inside last night on the couch. His bed.
“No, I’m good. We can finish.” He smiles at my unintentional innuendo and I decide to play along. “Might be better to wait till Morris leaves.”
Hand on the support beam, he leans in, close enough that I have to look up to meet his eyes. “You could always fake a swoon. It’s superhot out here.” His eyes do a slow sweep of my body and, yeah, it’s a line, but the low tenor of his voice has me biting my lip.
Morris drops his brush with a clatter, and I realize Gavin and I have just been standing here. Gazing at each other. I move back out into the sunlight, and when I brush past his shoulder, he turns his head, tracking my movement. It’s hot. I don’t know how else to say it. He follows me with his eyes, and I feel myself swinging my hips, bending at the waist to pick up my brush, swiping the excess on the rim of the can. Once, twice.
Is he watching? I peek over my shoulder, and yeah. He’s watching.
I’m surprised at how good it feels. Getting checked out is nothing new. Not like I’m fending off men right and left, but when we go out, guys buy me drinks, ask for my number. But there’s a different kind of desire in Gavin’s eyes. Like he wants all of me.
But with Morris here we’re both on our best behavior. If anything, not being able to do what I want to right now—which is to invite Gavin to the writing nook I made in the shed last night—is making me want him even more. Forget the fact that we might be headed down a road to ruin. If ruin looks like my best friend in a paint-flecked T-shirt, the sun glinting off his golden-brown hair and highlighting the sweep of his forearms as he climbs the ladder, then give me a first-class ticket.
The ladder wobbles and Morris glances over at Gavin. “Steady.”
“I got him.” Without thinking, I step over and take hold of the ladder with both hands, my cheek near Gavin’s hip.
He hesitates on the next rung and looks down to check in with me. “Want to switch places?”
“Nah, I’ll let you do the hard part,” I say. Joking with him is easy, until he breaks out in another wide smile. How is it that I’ve been clueless to how sexy his smiles are? Wide and daring, an invitation.
“Unless you don’t trust me,” I add, grinning up at him. “Would you rather I let Morris take over for me?”
“He wouldn’t rather,” Morris calls from over on the other side of the deck where he’s staining the support beam. Maybe I should be concerned that he’s onto us, but at the moment there’s not much room in my brain for anything but Gavin.
He dips his brush into the stain, then works it into the corners of the crossbeam. “Thanks for helping out with this,” he says. “If you’ve got other plans—”
“You know full well I can’t leave until this is finished. It would be like quitting on a power-washing video when they’re halfway done.” I shudder.
