Can't Let You Go: A Wheeler Brothers Novel (20 page)

"You gonna stay awake tonight?" he asks as the movie starts.

"It's early. I'm not going to fall asleep."

He puts his arm up and I slide over next to him, then jump up from the couch. "I forgot. I'm sitting over here tonight." I climb over his long legs to the leather recliner he has at the end of the couch.

"Jen, I told you I was kidding."

"I don't want to crowd you."

"You're not crowding me. Now get over here." He pats the spot next to him.

"If I sit next to you, you'll complain you're too hot."

"That's not because of you. It's because it's like a sauna in here."

I smile, tucking my legs up beside me on the chair. "I love it. It feels all warm and toasty. But if you're too hot, just turn it down."

He sighs. "Would you just get your butt over here?"

"Why?"

"Because I can't watch a movie with you way over there. It doesn't feel right. It's all off."

"You'll get used to it." I sink into the chair but it's not nearly as comfy as being next to Bryce.

He gets up from the couch, and before I can figure out what he's doing, his hands go under my legs and around my back and he scoops me up from the chair.

"Bryce, what are you—"

He drops me on the couch and sits next to me. "There. That's better."

I turn to him, pointing at the chair. "Maybe I liked it over there."

"You didn't. Now turn around and watch the movie."

"You're being bossy."

"You're being stubborn."

"I was giving you space. You told me you didn't like me sprawling all over you."

"I never said I didn't like it." His eyes are on the TV, his arm along the back of the couch.

"You said I stink like peanut butter."

"You don't now. You brushed your teeth." He points to the open space under his arm. "Now come on. Get in your spot."

"If I sit there, you'll be too hot."

He reaches behind his head and yanks his shirt off. "I'm good. Now are we gonna watch the movie or what?"

My eyes are fixed on his bare chest. The ripped muscles. The swirls of ink covering his skin. I swallow, then quickly turn back around, facing the TV. I scoot back, being careful not to touch him, because if I touch him, I might kiss him. I really want to kiss him. I've been thinking about it ever since that night at the bar.

His hand goes around my hip, tugging on me. "Get back here. I can't see the TV."

"Oh. Sorry." I move back just slightly.

"What's the deal with you?" He laughs a little, his hand still on my hip, his fingers going under my thigh as he slides me over on the couch until I'm right up against his side.

It's how we always sit, but tonight it feels different. Tonight, my nerves are on high alert, aware of even the slightest touch from Bryce's hand. Usually, I'm better able to tamp down my attraction to him, but not now. Not after that kiss at the bar. The way he made me feel that night? All hot and tingly, my panties soaked? Bryce is the only guy who's ever made me feel that way, and I want to feel that way again.

"You warm enough?" he asks.

"Yeah. Perfect."

We remain like that for an hour, both of us quiet as we watch the movie. Normally, we'd talk as it plays but instead we're silent. Focused. Not on the movie, but on each other. I'm not the only one trying to control my urges. Bryce is too. I could tell by the uptick in his breathing as soon as he pulled me against him.

Another half hour goes by and Bryce sinks farther back on the couch, stretching out his legs and turning slightly.

"I need to move," he says. "My back's killing me. I think I need to lie down."

I sit up. "You want me to go back to the chair?"

"I think we'll both fit." He lies down on his back. To give us more room, I turn on my side, my body wedged against the back of the couch.

"You comfortable?" he asks. "Because if you're not, I can try sitting up again. It's just that my back is stiff from finishing the floors this morning. I was on my hands and knees for hours."

"I'm okay, although I might need to sprawl out a little and I know you don't like that."

He smiles. "Go ahead and sprawl. I don't mind."

I put my arm and leg over him, and lay my head on his shoulder. We were positioned this same way when I spent the night over here but it feels more intimate now. We're completely awake and haven't been drinking. We're fully aware of our bodies touching, our mouths within kissing distance. My hand is resting over his heart and I can feel it beating rapidly like my own.

I try to focus back on the movie but my raging desire for Bryce won't let me. What if we just did it? Then maybe I could stop thinking about it, stop imagining what it would be like. Would it ruin our friendship? I don't think so, especially if it was only one time. But could we stop after one time? What if it was great and we wanted to do it again? Or what if it wasn't great? What if it was really bad? Either way, good or bad, it would definitely affect our friendship. It's a bad idea. We shouldn't do it. Not now. Not ever.

"You want to watch another one?" Bryce asks.

I hadn't even noticed the movie was over. "Let's see what's on TV."

He flips through the channels. "There's nothing on. Besides, this is high school night. We're supposed to be reliving senior year."

I sit up. "Video game rematch?"

He smiles. "You sure you're up for it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I shove his shoulder.

"You haven't played in years. I still play with my brothers. I already know I'll beat you."

"I already know you
won't
." I jump up from the couch. "I need my licorice." I go to the kitchen and take it from the counter. We bought a big bag of it at the store.

"No licorice. You're playing without it this time."

"Bullshit. Licorice is my secret weapon. It's how I'm gonna beat your ass." I tear open the bag of licorice and sit back down on the couch.

"That's tough talk for someone who hasn't played in four years." Bryce hands me one of the game controllers as the hockey game appears. We used to play this game all the time. I don't even like hockey but I like the video game.

"Who says I haven't played?" I ask, biting into a piece of licorice.

He stares at me. "You played this with someone else?" He sounds hurt.

"Not this game. A different one. Never mind." I nod at the screen. "Get it started."

"I'm not ready yet." He stands up. "I gotta stretch."

I laugh. "You've gotta stretch to play video games?"

He tilts his neck side to side. "Gotta make sure I'm in top form. Muscles warmed up. Body limber. Agile." He arches back and shakes his arms out a little.

I roll my eyes. "You ready yet?"

"Yeah." He sits down again, legs spread, leaning forward. He grabs the controller and starts the game.

Within seconds I score a goal. "Yes!" I yell, grabbing another piece of licorice.

"What the hell?" He fumbles with his controller, pressing hard on the buttons, his arms rising and falling as he moves his player down the ice. My goalie blocks him. I get control of the puck and shoot it down the ice and almost make another goal.

"Nice try," he says, smiling as he steals the puck back. He attempts another goal but misses.

We keep going and I get another goal, and then another one.

"Okay, that's it." He pauses the game and snatches my licorice bag. "No more of this."

"Give it back!" I reach for it.

"No way. It's cheating."

"Eating licorice is not cheating."

"It is when
you
eat it. It's an unfair advantage."

"You're being crazy. Now give it back."

"Nope." He hides it behind his back. "You'll just have to play without it."

I drop my controller and launch myself at him, reaching behind him and stealing my licorice back. "Ha! Got it!" I say, stashing the bag in the cushion behind me.

He raises his brow. "One game. No licorice."

"No way. Forget it. I don't play without my licorice."

His body lurches toward me and I fall back, laughing, as his arm goes under me, searching for the bag. I hear the crinkling of the plastic as he finds it, but then his hand stills. I look up and see his face right over mine. I feel his warm breath over my lips and my gaze falls to his mouth. His lips are slightly parted as he breathes heavily in and out. I lift my eyes and they collide with his and it's like we both suddenly make a decision, but not with our heads. We're not thinking with our heads right now. We're going on pure instinct, acting on our urges.

He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me, slowly, cautiously. I slide my hand behind his neck and kiss him back. He breathes out a heavy sigh like he's contemplating whether to continue this. But then I feel his lips pressing into mine, and then his tongue in my mouth. My body bursts to life, craving more. With my hand still firmly around the back of his neck I lift my legs up and try to sneak them around him to lie down. He senses what I'm doing and gets up just enough for me to move my legs, then with our mouths still connected, he lowers himself over me. His hand takes hold of my hip as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving in a slow sensual motion. I hear him groan and realize I'm moving my hips to that same motion, grinding into his erection, which is pressing between my legs.

"Jen," he whispers.

"Keep going," I whisper back.

"This isn't...we can't..." he mutters between kisses.

"We don't have to," I whisper. "But we can still..." I don't finish the thought, not wanting to limit this. Because if he wanted to go all the way, I would. It's what I want, but Bryce doesn't, and probably never will. But that doesn't mean he won't do other things.

We kiss some more and then I feel his body shift to the side and his hand slip under my sweatshirt. When he reaches my breast, he pauses a moment, like he forgot I wasn't wearing a bra. I softly moan, and the sound makes him kiss me harder, his hand gently squeezing my breast. My heart's pounding so fast I have to break from the kiss to catch my breath.

Bryce takes the opportunity to kiss my neck as he slowly pushes my sweatshirt up. I slip it off and his eyes go to my breasts. I see his neck move as he swallows, then watch as his mouth lowers over my nipple, licking and sucking, making me writhe in pleasure. His hand slips down my pajama pants, finding just the right spot and stroking it, sending me reeling with even more pleasure. I push my hips into his hand and feel his finger slip inside me, followed by another.

My body takes over, ignoring any thoughts about this being wrong and just letting it happen, like I've wanted it to for so long. Maybe this will change our friendship, or maybe it won't. Right now, I don't want to think about it. I just want to be in this moment, fully and completely, as he touches me.

I feel the tension rising, my breaths shallow, my heart racing. And then my hips rock up from the couch as it hits me, the sensations shuddering through my body, leaving me panting and gasping for breath.

It's the first time that's happened with a guy. I know that sounds crazy but it's true. Even my ex-boyfriend couldn't get me there. He tried but nothing worked and I eventually faked it, like I did with all the other guys I've been with. Part of me thinks I wouldn't let myself go there because my heart is with Bryce and I wanted him to be the one to make me feel this way. Which he did just now, and damn, it was worth the wait.

Bryce's hand slides back up to my hip and he kisses me. But it's softer than before, gentler, like he's saying we're done, even though he's still in need of some relief. I sneak my hand down between us but he takes it and puts it back by my side.

"We should get back to the game," he says, kissing my cheek and then my forehead.

"But I—"

"Jen." His eyes go to mine. "Just let it be."

He doesn't want to talk about it. Typical Bryce. Always shutting down whenever we move past the friend line. He just made me feel something I've never felt with any other guy, and yet he won't talk about it. And he won't let me give that feeling back to him. He's so frustrating.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Bryce

I crossed a line. Did something I shouldn't have. And this time, I can't use being drunk as an excuse for why I did it. So how do I explain it? I don't, at least not to Jen. And I don't need to explain it to myself. I know why I did it. I couldn't resist her. I tried. Believe me, I did. But as soon as I reached under her to get that licorice and saw her face just below mine, I couldn't stop myself. I've wanted to kiss her since the moment we left the bar and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. So when she was right there in front of me, I couldn't hold back. I kissed her, and after I did, I wanted more. I wanted to touch her, feel her soft skin, kiss her beautiful lips.

I didn't intend to take it farther than the kiss, but then she told me to keep going and I couldn't tell her no. Because it's what I wanted too. I wanted to please her, to pleasure her, to make her body come alive from my touch. And it did. She was moaning, writhing, holding onto me as the feeling rolled through her. Then she relaxed back on the couch with a look on her face that made me wonder if she's never experienced that before.

Maybe she hasn't. Obviously she has with herself, but maybe I'm the first guy who's done that to her, not the actual touching part but getting her off. That's too bad if that's the case, but if it's true, I'm secretly happy I was the first to do it. I would've liked to be her first everything, but I wasn't, because of my refusal to date her. I try not to think about who she had those firsts with, but I have a pretty good idea.

I can read Jen like a book so I knew when she'd had her first kiss and when she lost her virginity. She tried to act like nothing happened, but I could tell. Just like I can tell right now that she desperately wants to talk about what we just did and what it means. But there's no use talking about it. It was a one-time thing. It shouldn't have happened but it did and we can't go back. We just have to move forward and go back to being friends.