“Harper.” Brooklyn’s voice is soft but insistent. “If you’re not dating, what are the two of you doing?”
I shove my phone back into my pocket. “Hooking up.”
“Uh-huh.”
I’m not sure which of us sounds less certain—me or Brooklyn. And she’s got a point. No matter how hard I try to spin it, Vik’s not just my loaner penis providing physical release. Our hookup is becoming something more...something way too much like an emotional connection for my comfort.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Harper
BROOKLYN’S WORDS STICK with me for the rest of the day. And then the next day and the next day after that. In fact, they hang around the entire week and take up permanent residence in my head. What’s up between me and Vik? I’d like to pretend that I don’t know, but it doesn’t take much thinking to figure out. I’m falling for him.
I’m falling in love with my fuck buddy.
With my best friend.
With Vik.
Our deal was sex with no strings, a hot hookup when we were in the mood and lonely. I should have stopped as soon as lonely turned into loving for me. Vik doesn’t want my feelings. And honestly? I don’t want them, either. They’ll spoil everything. Vik has been clear from the start that he’s all fun and no feelings. When it comes to saying three little words, he’ll always choose on your knees over I love you.
So when he hits my place on Friday night, I open the door for him. I pretend nothing has changed and everything’s perfectly fine. My feelings are my dirty little secret. I’ll pretend I’m looking for Mr. Right when it turns out I’ve been holding him all along. And if my heart gets broken or trampled beneath a pair of too-sexy motorcycle boots, that’s my problem.
I make it through the ten cartons of Chinese takeout that Vik adores. I make it through two hours and twelve minutes of the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean movie. And then in minute two hundred and thirteen, I lose it. Jack’s cupping Angelica’s face and he’s finally giving it up, admitting he loves her, and it’s so goddamned romantic and yet it’s also about to be over. The shooting-each-other and fighting stuff isn’t long-term relationship material and Angelica clearly has commitment issues, but I want them to just kiss and shut up. Kiss and be happy. Kiss and sail off into the sunset together to create baby pirates and major mayhem together.
Instead, they part.
“Hey.” Vik nudges me. “You okay, babe?”
No. No, I am not. I want to crawl on top of him, wrap my arms around his neck and hang on like a love-deprived baby monkey. I want to stick to him, hold him, wrap myself around him like there’s no tomorrow because it sucks to realize that tomorrow might have to happen without him and that I want so much more than sex from this man.
“I can’t—”
The words get stuck in my throat. I should tell him that we’re over. That I can’t fuck my best friend anymore because it feels wrong. Because I’ve gotten too close and he hasn’t gotten close enough.
“Hey.” He brushes a thumb over my wet cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, meaning it. I feel everything, and he feels nothing.
He grabs the remote and hits the power button. Jack’s boat disappears as Vik frowns at me.
“Work too much this week?”
Now is not the moment for emotional revelations. Plus, I hate crying. Tears fix nothing; plans are far more effective. Unfortunately, there’s no plan to make Vik fall in love with me.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.”
He tosses the remote onto the coffee table. “Do what?”
“Us. Hooking up.”
We’re sitting in the dark because Vik insists movie-watching must be done in total blackness, so I can’t see his face. But I feel him move. He scoops me up like I’m a delicate flower and then he’s carrying me to the bedroom. Even when he sets me down on the mattress, I can’t turn the stupid tears off.
He hesitates. I know he doesn’t know what to do. I never cry, and we’re all about having fun anyhow. We laugh together, but the sadder stuff is off-limits. He wouldn’t let me in when his dad had that episode, and he’s never deliberately let me see him when he was feeling down or vulnerable or anything other than him being a badass and rocking life. And I’ve kind of been the same way.
He doesn’t say anything, but then he follows me down onto the bed, his arms hold me tight, making promises. I’m safe. He’s here. If anything needs to be killed or hurt, he’s the man to do it. And his mouth...
His mouth kisses away my tears.
He doesn’t give me words, but he gives me everything else. He doesn’t tell me not to cry. He doesn’t ask why. He just holds me, and I can almost pretend that it feels like something. Like he loves me. Like he really, truly is my best friend and my partner and that he’s got me. That the heart beating so steadily beneath my folded hands is mine. Stupid.
When the tears start to dry up, he kisses the corner of my mouth. And then my mouth. It’s a soft kiss, his lips closed, just brushing mine. Letting me know he’s here, too, and that I’m not alone. I could get used to kisses like his. Curled up together as we are, however, it’s impossible to miss the way his dick tents the front of his jeans, big and hard. Demanding attention.
“Ignore him,” Vik says roughly. “He’s got no sense of timing, you feel me?”
Happy to oblige, I slide my hand from his heart to his dick because that’s what we have, and I want one last time, one last set of memories. If I can’t have forever, I’m stealing right now.
“Make love to me.” I try not to cringe as the words leave my mouth. He’s so
