Page 56 of Goal Line
“Who happen to be married.”
“Exactly. Believe me, we’ve talked about all of this, over and over.”
She lifts one shoulder and gives me a small smile before saying, “If you say so.”
Then she changes the subject, telling me about all the weddings she’s in this summer, starting with her cousin, Lauren’s, later this month, and ending with her mom’s fourth marriage at the end of the summer. And even while I’m listening, I can’t brush aside her comment that Luke’s “feelings are obvious.”
I want to believe her. But I’ve read that situation wrong with him once before, and getting it wrong this time could ruin our whole arrangement.
Chapter Twenty-Three
LUKE
It’s way later than I would have expected when I hear Eva’s key in the lock. I watch her from the air mattress as she slips inside and shuts the door quietly behind her, then turns to set her purse on the counter nearest the door.
I want to say something to let her know I’m still awake, but I also don’t want to scare the shit out of her. By how quiet she’s being, she obviously thinks I’m asleep.
She tiptoes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her, and all I can think about is the shower I took after she left for dinner. I couldn’t get her off my mind while the hot water rained down on me—the way she tasted when I kissed her, how she felt this afternoon when I held her against me, with my hand protectively cupping her belly. This desire I’ve always had for her feels like it’s growing exponentially, and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hide it.
I squirted some of her conditioner into my hand, wishingthat her signature peach scent was filling the shower becauseshewas there with me. When I imaginedherhand jerking me off instead of mine, I felt like the worst best friend ever. But I’m not even sure if that bothers me anymore. I’m trying my hardest to keep myself in check around her, and I’m willing to bet there will be plenty of showers in my future.
I’ve taken stock of all her toiletries and ordered them for my place so she’ll have what she needs when we get back to Boston. I even grabbed an extra shampoo and conditioner for my own shower. Because yeah, I’m that guy now—the one who buys his best friend’s scented toiletries, planning to use them to jerk off to all the fantasies of us together.
I’m an asshole is what I am. And if she had any idea, she’d seriously laugh in my face about it. Or would she?
These past few days, I’ve started to wonder. To hope, even? I didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on my body after we woke up this morning, or the way her breathing gets heavy when I’m close.
Eva opens the bathroom door and turns off the light, and I hear her walking past the kitchen table into the living area, heading toward her bed.
“Shit!” she hisses, and then I hear her jumping around.
I sit up. “What are you doing?”
“I’m so sorry to wake you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered that we moved the chair to make room for the air mattress, but I wasn’t thinking. I freaking stubbed my toe on it.” She’s bent over, with her foot on the opposite knee, clutching her toes in her hand. “I’ll just...”
She puts her foot down, turns to take a step, but walks directly into the couch. She jumps back like it attacked her, and then starts falling onto the air mattress. I reach out to breakher fall as she twists in the air in an attempt to avoid crashing into the coffee table on the far side of the air mattress. She puts a hand out to brace her fall, and it lands right on my shoulder, pushing me back onto my pillow. Her chest slams into mine, but luckily, she holds her head up so our faces don’t collide—the last thing either of us needs is a broken nose.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, her chest shaking with laughter. “What the fuck just happened?”
I can’t help but laugh along with her. “I have no idea.”
She lies there for a moment with one of her legs running along my side and her other knee bent by my opposite hip. Then she must realize that she’s pressed right against my quickly hardening dick, because she lets out a small gasp.
I couldn’t stop my reaction to her proximity if I tried, and I’m not sure I even want to anymore. When she plants her hand next to my head and starts to push herself off me, I wrap my forearm across her lower back without thinking, anchoring her to me.
Her face is inches away, hovering above me, motionless. As her lips part slightly, I can feel her heavy breath on my skin. She slips her tongue out and wets her lower lip as she gazes down at me. I’m about to tell her not to move when her hips flex, pressing her core along me.
I let out a soft groan, and her eyes widen. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, eyes wide like she’s shocked even herself. “My body just...did that without my permission.”
I reach my other hand up and slide it along the side of her neck, holding back her waves of dark hair that have fallen forward onto my bare chest.
“And if your bodyhadasked your permission?” I can’ttake my eyes off her mouth, can’t stop staring as her teeth sink into that full lower lip and her nostrils flare with a breath that makes her whole chest swell.
“I don’t know.” Her words are so quiet I can barely hear them despite the silence of the room. And then her hips press into me again, and we both let out a low moan. I pull her head toward mine. And as our mouths connect, she kisses me with reckless abandon.
I don’t stop to think about what this means, or how it will change our friendship or affect our marriage. I’m desperate to taste her, to touch her, to fuckingknowher in ways I’ve never thought were possible. I want to take my time and savor her, explore every inch of her body and discover her reactions to each place I touch her.
But there’s absolutely nothing slow about the way she’s kissing me and rubbing herself along my cock like she’s desperate for the friction, and I’m struggling to hold my body in check, no matter how hard I try. My hips rock up against her where she’s pressed up against me, and she releases a deep moan that reverberates along our entire bodies.
