Page 117 of Crew
Whaaat?
My throat felt suddenly tight, and so did my chest. Was this the official talk?My stomach was doing backflips like a professional tumbler now.
A tingle went down my spine.
"Cross?" I didn't know what I was asking. Maybe for clarification? What the hell was going on? It'd been four months of friendliness, and now suddenly we were talking real talk?
He continued to hold my gaze. A stark need entered his eyes, and he sighed. "Fuck," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Bren."
I licked my lips. My mouth was so dry. "For what?"
"I've tried to be the best friend during this whole thing. I have."
Yeah. He'd done a remarkable job. Not what I wanted.
His voice was quiet, yet I didn't need to strain to hear him. I hung on his every word. "We close in together. That's what we do when one of us goes through something. You--you need a solid friend, but I can't do that anymore."
"You can't be my friend anymore?" I set down the glasses, putting the stack of them on the counter, and reached back to hold on instead. I felt my knees growing weak.
He shook his head, tentatively at first, as if he were asking my permission. Then, like he saw something he'd needed to see in my gaze, he began to stand up.
I swallowed, my hand gripping the counter.
He was coming over.
Oh, God...
He stopped right in front of me. Two inches separated us. I couldn't look away from him, but the longer I held his gaze, the less I felt able to stand. He was inside of me, making me feel all sorts of emotions I'd never felt before. He knew me, every inch, every cell, every thought.
I parted my lips, and his eyes darted to them, staying.
He brushed his hand over my cheek, tucking some of my hair behind my ear, leaving a tingle in its trail.
I let out a ragged breath.
Goddamn. That touch. It ricocheted through me, sparking need between my legs.
I started to reach for him, needing to touch him.
He saw my hand and moved in, letting it land on his chest. I could feel his heart racing. He was as affected as I was. And like that, it clicked. Surrender flooded me. Our bodies let out a release at the same time, like we were finally accepting what was between us.
"Bren," he whispered. His lips brushed over my cheek, getting closer and closer to my mouth, but he paused. He didn't touch his mouth to mine. He tucked my hair behind my ear again, resting there.
He was breathing heavy, just like me.
I splayed my fingers out, savoring the feel of his strength. He was so tight, so firm. I knew what he looked like under his shirt. We'd gone swimming so many times together. We'd hugged each other. We'd sat next to each other. We'd driven together, ridden together. We'd done everything together. We'd even slept together, but this--this was different.
This was a different touch, a different moment.
There was no going back now.
I could lose him.
That sent alarm bells through me, but it didn't matter. I felt drugged. I just needed him, and I lifted my eyes, meeting his again.
He'd been waiting.
I parted my lips.
