Page 43 of Seeds of Love
I nod, feeling wonderfully floaty and complete. “More than okay.”
FREDDIE
THEN – SOPHOMORE YEAR – APRIL
The moment I walk through the door, I’m hit by a smell so divine it should be illegal. Garlic and fresh herbs mingle in the air, the savory scent curling around me like a welcome hug, making my stomach growl as loudly as a bear waking from hibernation.
Then I hear it—Alex’s laugh, bright and carefree. It’s followed by Ethan’s groan, a sound that’s half exasperation, half defeat, like a balloon deflating slowly. I can’t help but grin. I’d completely forgotten she was coming over to study—something about Tara being busy with “Mr. Big Eyes”—whatever that means.
My dick gives this annoying twitch, like it’s got a mind of its own. It’s been doing that since last month, since the night we crossed a line we swore we wouldn’t.
That morning after? It had been... nice. Too nice. Waking up with her curled against me, her soft hair tickling my nose, her body pressed against mine. I remember thinking how easy itwould be to get used to this. Which is exactly why we couldn't let it happen again.
I’m still not sure which one of us brought it up first. We were in that weird, soft, hazy afterglow space, and somehow we ended up having “The Talk.” How we had to stay friends. How we couldn’t risk ruining what we had. Alex had been the one to specify “no more sex, no fondling, no more kissing,” said with that precise tone of hers, and I found myself agreeing even as a part of me wanted to protest.
It was for the best. Even if the sex had been mind-blowing, as my dick likes to constantly remind me, and my brain tortures me with vivid flashes of all the ways I’d love to make her come. Even if waking up with her in my arms had felt more right than anything in a long time. Alex deserves someone who can give her the romance, the commitment, the whole fairy tale. And that’s not me. My family, my future—they come first. No room for love stories.
“Troy-boy!” I call out, shaking off the memory. “What culinary masterpiece are you creating? And please tell me there’s enough for this starving Adonis!”
I stroll into the kitchen, trying to act normal. Alex is there, wielding a wooden spoon like a tiny dictator, pointing it at Ethan with mock severity. She’s wearing one of those oversized sweaters she loves, her hair messy from running her hands through it while studying. She looks so damn cute it hurts.
“I swear on all that is good,” she warns Ethan, her voice teasing, “if you so much as think about adding more chili flakes to this sauce, I will compost you.”
I lean against the doorframe, watching them, trying not to think about how her lips had felt against mine or how she’d gasped my name when she came. We’re friends. Just friends.That’s what we agreed.
Ethan, ever the daredevil, whines like a puppy denied a treat. “Come on, little dude. Live a little. Spice up your life!”
“I’d rather not spice up my funeral, thanks,” she retorts, quick as a whip, not missing a beat.
It’s still surreal, seeing Alex so at home here. She fits into our chaotic mess of a family like she’s always been part of it.
“Looking good, strawberry shortcake,” Troy teases Ethan, his perfectly styled golden hair catching the light. Ethan flips him off, but Troy spots me. “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence. I would’ve gone with you. You know how I love a Friday night pump,” he says, flexing like some ridiculous bodybuilder.
Alex snorts, a sound that’s both cute and kind of piglike, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Yeah, it was a last-minute decision after class. Sorry, bro,” I say, the half-truth sliding off my tongue easier than I’d like. Sure, it was spontaneous, but I wouldn’t have invited Troy, anyway. Sometimes a guy needs to be alone with his thoughts on a treadmill.
I’m still trying to process the fact that Alex and I hooked up last month. And while we’re pretending nothing happened, I’m about as far from normal as you can get.
I can’t stop thinking about her. About it. About how much I fucking enjoyed it. How much I want to do it again. It was her first time, and I tried to be gentle, but Christ, it had felt better than I could’ve imagined. I want to teach her everything—show her how I like it, discover what she likes. I can only imagine what round fifty would be like.
But I know we can’t.
She might not even want to.
I need to get this energy out of my system, but the thought of hooking up with someone else makes me feel like shit.
Alex turns and flashes me a smile that hits me right in the gut. She’s wearing a pair of jeans that hug her ass, an ass I now know the feel of between my hands.
“Hey, you,” she says softly, her voice low. “Dinner’s almost ready. Think you can handle setting the table?”
I swallow hard, trying to remember how to speak like a normal human being. I casually move my backpack to cover the situation in my pants.
“Yes, ma’am.” I salute, and she rolls her eyes at me before tossing a dish towel in my face. Worth it.
“I’ve just gotta take a quick shower after the gym, I fuckin’ reek.” At least it’s a solid cover. Nobody bats an eyelid as I run upstairs, turn the shower on hot, and have a very quiet, very fast release while thinking about my best friend’s perfect tits and perky ass.
I’m back downstairs in no time, feeling slightly less like I’m about to explode.
