Page 18 of Shared By my Ex's Best Friends
I imagine what it might feel like if we were alone. Really alone. No wedding chaos, no Nick scowling in the background like he’s keeping score, no rules or reasons not to touch.
Just us…
Before I know it, I’m drifting off to sleep, thoughts of Maya swirling in my head.
***
I’m sitting on the edge of her bed. Maya’s sitting close, her fingers tracing lazy patterns down my arm. The air hums with something unsaid, a tension that’s both electric and soothing.
Her eyes catch mine, dark and serious, and she leans in a fraction—close enough for me to feel her breath, warm and steady. I reach up, my hand trembling a little, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Her lips part, and she whispers, “Jake…”
The sound is soft, a spark lighting a slow fire in my chest.
Without thinking, I close the distance. Our lips meet, tentative at first, tasting, exploring. Then more urgently—like we’re both trying to make up for lost time, for every second we pretended this wasn’t what we wanted.
Her hands find their way into my hair, fingers threading through the dark strands, pulling me closer. My heart thunders in my ears, loud and impossible to ignore.
She pulls back enough to look at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and warm. “This is the part where you tell me you’re not afraid.”
I smile against her mouth. “I’m not.”
And then she’s kissing me again, softer this time, like she’s promising something I never knew I needed.
***
I wake up, heart pounding, breath coming fast and shallow. My sheets are twisted, my body aching in ways that make it clear this wasn’t a dream I could brush off. And damn it, she’s lodged under my skin now—more real, more urgent than I expected.
I roll over and try to shake it off, but the heat in my chest tells me it’s not going anywhere.
Maya’s got me good.
***
The next morning, I stroll into the conference room like nothing happened. Cool. Chill. Like I’m totally not still wrecked by thatdream—her skin against mine, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her everywhere until the sun came up.”
The room smells faintly of stale coffee and air freshener, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly overhead. A whiteboard is already cluttered with notes and deadlines, and laptops hum quietly on the long oak table where everyone’s gathered.
But Liam and Ethan keep throwing me these sidelong glances, barely concealing their smirks. Like they both know something I’m desperately trying to keep under wraps. Like I’ve got a giant, flashing neon sign blinking right above my head:
THINKING ABOUT MAYA INCOMPATIBLE WITH BASIC FUNCTION
Liam leans over, voice low but loud enough for me to hear. “Rough night?”
Ethan snorts, shaking his head. “You look like you lost a fight with your pillow.”
I force a grin. “You two wish.”
Liam grins back, eyes twinkling. “Or maybe you’re thinking about someone…”
Ethan raises an eyebrow. “Maya, perhaps?”
I clear my throat, trying to play it cool. “Please. I’m a professional.”
“Sure, sure,” Liam says with a smirk. “Professional enough to blush every time she talks?”
I glare at them both, but it’s useless. They know. And they’re definitely enjoying it.
