I wanted to hold on forever to the moment until she whispered, “Faster.”
Picking up speed, we both started to reach a crescendo pretty quickly, and I leaned over her, sealing my mouth on hers to catch her screams and absorb every tiny bit of her pleasure.
Later, once we’d cleaned up and crawled back in bed, Murphy snagged my shirt from the floor and slid it over her head before she snuggled against me.
“Well, that’s a good solution for what you’re going to sleep in.”
“I hope Branson doesn’t come looking for us,” she whispered into my chest.
“Look up, and let me see if you’re blushing,” I teased.
I couldn’t believe that this amazing woman hadn’t captured the heart of a man yet. Despite having a hard-shell exterior, groomed for a life she wasn’t meant to live, she was golden on the inside.
Rather than show me her cheeks, Murphy pretended to shove me further into the mattress, and I fell easily for the woman. Literally and figuratively.
“I doubt he’s looking to hang with me,” I told her. “Even though he knows I don’t judge and will always give him an objective opinion, he knows I worry about him. Constantly.”
Shadows deepened as rain continued to pelt the window. I imagined us in my bed rather than in Scott’s guest room, curled up on a stormy night. It felt as if that might be all I needed in this world.
Murphy. In my bed. Forever.
But as quickly as the idea flashed through my mind, Murphy brought me back to reality.
“Still, I’m not so sure Branson was so happy to know you had a girlfriend . . . or you were dating at all,” she said, stopping herself from labeling us.
“He’ll have to get used to it, especially in the new place.” The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them. Lying there with Murphy, our legs entwined and our hearts beating in unison, I felt too good and my guard fell down.
“What new place?” she asked.
I wasn’t surprised to hear it. This was Murphy, and she didn’t miss much.
“I bought a piece of land with a ski house on it over in Mad River. I thought it would be nice for Branson and me to get some guy time there. Now, of course, I can’t wait for you to see it.”
“Wow, you never said anything about it, which is okay, but that’s amazing. Look at you, Mr. Successful with two houses, and me struggling to figure out what I want to do.” A note of melancholy tinged her voice.
I didn’t know why, but I felt as if what she described were what she should have had, rather than me. But I couldn’t apologize or say a thing before she went on.
“Honestly, you should be proud. The guys from Pressman, none of them are doing the big-time doctor thing and killing it like you obviously are.”
“That’s the thing,” I said, turning to face her now glistening green eyes and smoothing her out-of-control red hair behind her ear. “When I got hurt playing football and had to figure out a new position, I had a lot of time on my hands. I wasn’t social to begin with.”
My voice got raspier with every word. I knew this wasn’t going to sit well, but I had to get it out—eventually.
“I started playing around with apps, and I was pretty good at it. I developed an app that helped run medical records a little easier, and instead of growing it—or the company—by myself, I licensed it. Medical school was still my priority, and I didn’t want to get stuck with a failed venture.”
“You what, licensed it? So, you got rich in college or what?”
Murphy looked like she wanted to run away. Her gaze was pinging all over the place, and her heart felt skittish. Then a tear formed in the corner of one eye.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her expression anguished, she glared at me. “Even when I bared my soul, when I shared all of my darkest moments with you. Did you think I wouldn’t be happy for you?”
As her gaze bore into me, I desperately wanted to go back in time and handle this all differently. So very, very differently.
“Wait,” she shrieked, nearly choking. “Did you think I would want something from you? That I would use you? Is that how little you think of me and where I come from?”
“No. No, none of that. I believe you’re a good person, Murph. When it comes to this, I don’t really tell anyone. I feel like they’ll only like me because I’ve got cash to burn, or maybe not like me at all since I don’t fit in. The thing is . . . the app thing, it’s sort of an ongoing side gig for me. I use the money it brings in to help my parents and Branson, and to build a nest egg. And I make investments for later too.” I closed my eyes for a second, wishing I could stop my rambling.
“What are you? A cross between Doogie Howser and Richie Rich?” Her tone had an edge of anger, but her face scrunched in pain as she tried to school her emotions. “It’s great, really,” she said, and if I didn’t know her so well, I would have missed the faint quiver in her voice.
“Murphy, that’s not fair. I wanted you to love—I mean like—me for me. Just for me. You didn’t think enough of me back at Pressman to be friends openly with me, and that hurt. I wanted to make sure this thing we have isn’t because I’ve got all this . . . money and stuff now.”
I couldn’t believe my bad fucking luck at having to reveal my secrets and feelings at Scott’s house. What kind of man was I? My heart
