Page 22

A s yet another Taylor Swift song comes on while I drive to the airport, Saylor sings along from the passenger seat of her car.

It’s stupid that I’m fucking giddy over driving her in her own car, but I am.

Something about it feels romantic—even though that’s the last thing she says I’m allowed to feel around her.

“I didn’t take you for a Swiftie,” I utter.

I do have to admit, a few of the songs she’s played are a bit catchy.

She scowls—hard. “Um … one, I’m offended that after all the time you’ve known my brother, he didn’t tell you. Did you know he got me pit passes to see her at Gillette Stadium a few years ago? And two, who isn’t a Swiftie? I mean, Morgan Wallen and T. Swift make up my whole damn playlist. As they should on everyone else’s too.”

“In my opinion, both are overrated.” I shrug, and instantly, you’d think I threw a grenade at her.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that or else I’ll have to force you to pull over so I can dump your ass off on the side of the road and drive away.” She looks as baffled as she is annoyed.

“You sound like Gemma. She isn’t a Taylor fan, but at least she loves Morgan.” She rolls her eyes and huffs.

“She’s lucky I love her so much; it was almost a deal-breaker when she admitted that to me when we were younger.”

“I see you take this love for her very seriously,” I say, amused.

“You look like you’re ready to throw fists over there.”

“Uhh … duh. You’re lucky I’m agreeing to still be your friend, by the way. I mean, bad enough you don’t respect Taylor’s music, but Morgan Wallen too? Are you serious?”

“It’s probably because of what my tongue can do, huh?” I tease her lightly, even though the image of her riding my face as she sucked my cock sends a shiver right down my spine and directly to my balls.

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes.

I pull up to the curb at the airport and shift the car into park.

Before I say what I’m about to, I sort of wish I had worn a cup today to protect my dick.

Sometimes, she’s a little fucking crazy.

“So, look. I have an idea, and I’m hoping you don’t punch me in the balls or anything.” I pause nervously, attempting to play it off like I’m joking but I’m actually fucking terrified.

“Just hear me out, okay?”

“What?” she says, already wary of me.

“What is this undoubtedly terrible idea you’ve concocted?”

What I’m about to say could go one of two ways.

She could love it and make me a damn lucky man.

Or she could get mad and freak the fuck out.

Because she’s so unpredictable, I don’t know what to expect.

“Since we’re practically besties—” I start, but she stops me instantly.

“Gemma is my best friend,” she says sharply.

“Okay, carry on.”

“Okay, since I’m your second-string best friend, I have to ask, what would be wrong with being friends with benefits? I understand you’re on some path to finding yourself and all, but during that time, you know you’re going to crave riding a dick or having someone’s face between your thighs—”

She opens her mouth to interrupt me, and I stop her.

“And, yes, I know. Your vibrator and whatever else you’ve got do the trick.” I smirk at her.

“But not the way my dick does, Brat. Admit it.”

Her mouth falls open, and she scowls.

“If you add sex—and, yes, I’m aware of what we did last night. But that was different. It was a one time thing to seal a great fake date. But entering into a friends-with-benefits ordeal? That’s going to create a disaster.” She stops, sighing.

“I think you know it too.”

She’s right; I do know it.

I know it because the only reason why I’m suggesting it is to be closer to her.

I’ve had her multiple times, and I somehow convinced her last night was just part of our fake date, but it wasn’t enough.

So, yeah, I know she’s going to eventually push me away when she finds Mr. Right, but until she does, I want to be the only dick she’s using.

“If you aren’t worried about getting attached to me, what’s the harm?” I say, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. “You know you’re going to get lonely on this journey you’re on. Use me during those times, Sail-On. I’d be fucking honored.”

Everything on her face screams she’s scared to say yes, but something tells me she can’t say no either.

She’s enjoying whatever this thing between us is, even if she’s lying to herself, acting like she isn’t.

“And what happens when you get attached?” she bites back.

“What then? Suddenly, it’s awkward between us, and when my brother wants his best friend at family things, you won’t want to join because you’ll feel uncomfortable.”

“I’ll step away before that happens,” I say, even though it’s bullshit.

I’d ride this thing till the wheels fell off, and then I’d probably still try to stay on board.

“And if you ever want to just go back to being friends, that’s fine.”

She pushes her cheek against her headrest and stares at me.

“I’m having so much fun, but I meant what I said. I don’t want to create another shitty situation for my brother. Not when he’s done so much for me.” She blinks slowly.

“And I’m a mess. A dumpster fire. So, I don’t need anyone else’s feelings to take care of. You know I moved here to find myself. Please, Ryder, don’t take that away from me.”

“Then say no, sweetheart,” I utter.

“Tell me no, and I’ll leave right now and never bring it up again. I’ll be the best damn second-string best friend you ever saw. And I’ll do it with my clothes on.”

That’s not what she wants though.

Saylor is having fun, just like I am.

Our sexual chemistry is off the charts.

And if you ask me, there’s no way we could be around each other and not rip our clothes off.

If she wants to try it though, I’ll do my best.

She’s been through enough with her ex.

The ball is in her court, and I’ll let her make the call.

But, fuck, I really hope she says yes.

“No expectations, right?” she whispers, surprising me with those three words.

“Just two friends, enjoying each other’s company. When we feel like it, we can fuck. That’s it.”

“Yeah,” I say, “that’s it. It’s not complicated if we don’t make it that way.”

It’s a bald-faced lie .

Of course it’s going to be complicated.

“And what about my brother? Smith hates feeling like people are keeping something from him.” Her face pales.

“I don’t want him to get hurt in all of this. Especially after everything he’s done for me. Getting me this car, flying me to Florida …” She sighs.

“I feel like we’re doing something wrong.”

That feeling I’ve had in the pit of my stomach comes back.

It’s not a great sensation because she’s right.

We are keeping something from Smith, and that’s wrong.

It just never seems like the right time to say something to him, and now that he’s dealing with everything with Gemma and navigating that, he’s got so much on his plate.

“You’re right.” I sigh.

“We should tell him we’re friends and we like spending time together. Unless you see reason to keep him in the dark. I mean, I don’t think he wants to know everything we do with that time.”

“You’re like a brother to him, so I trust you to tell him,” she says, and there’s absolutely no missing the apprehension in her voice.

“And once you do, tell me so that I can call him and smooth things over.”

“I will, but there won’t be anything to smooth over. We’re friends, right? What’s the big deal?” I tell her, but I’m lying.

Even I know this is going to be a fucking train wreck in the end.

But I guess I must be drawn to carnage because I’m turning a blind eye.

She gives me a piercing stare.

“My brother knows I’m never just friends with those who have penises.” She blows out a breath.

“Okay. I think … I think we should at least try this friends-with-benefits thing.” She shrugs lightly.

“Seems as though we end up naked every time we hang out anyway. Might as well make it structured, right?”

“Right.” I jerk my chin up and down.

“Exactly my thoughts.”

I know what I’m entering into.

I’m going to complicate the fuck out of my life by getting even closer to her.

But if I’m lucky—and I mean, really, really fucking lucky—maybe she’ll realize she wants more.

And I won’t have to be the sad son of a bitch I know I’m going to be when she cuts me off.

“One more thing,” she says, her gaze sharp and unapologetic.

“I am emotionally unavailable, Ryder. Sex? That I can do. But the second you get the urge to tell me your feelings again? Bite. Your. Damn. Tongue. Do we have an agreement?”

She doesn’t budge, continuing to stare at me with zero fucking feelings.

Maybe it’s an act; whatever it is, she’s good at it.

“Fine.” I nod. “But when we’re fucking and my dick is inside of you or my tongue is licking your pussy, if you have the urge to remind me we’re just friends … you bite your tongue.” I give her a level stare.

“It’s a mood killer. Deal?”

Pulling in a deep breath through her nose, she relaxes in her seat.

“Deal.”

Once we’re out of the car and on the sidewalk, I nervously stuff my hands into my scrub pockets because even though this is exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid, here we are, acting weird with each other.

The energy between us has shifted simply because of the conversation we just had.

Now, unlike usual, when we’re trying to tell ourselves it’s the last time we’ll hook up, now …

we’re basically promising that it’ll happen again.

Sooner rather than later too.

Whether it was the smartest or dumbest idea ever, I’m not sure.

Ryder is so incredibly good-looking, and he smells delicious.

He’s nice, he’s funny, and he’s obviously good in bed—hence why I keep agreeing to one more time.

I know this isn’t going anywhere—guys like him may want to keep me around for a while because, yeah, I am fun, but I know I’m not the type he’s going to settle down with.

So, maybe it’s all right to allow myself this little slice of sexual heaven.

I mean, I get a friend out of it, too, so what’s the harm?

As long as I’m the one steering this ship, what is so wrong with enjoying someone’s company, having sex with someone I’m wildly attracted to, but having zero expectations of it going deeper than that?

My whole life, I’ve put too much weight on relationships, always being the one to fall hard and fast despite trying to pretend like I’m this fun and wild girl.

I’m really just a bleeding heart, begging to be hurt.

But it’s different with Ryder.

He’s the one following me around.

He’s letting me make the rules, and I have to say, I really love feeling in control for once.

“Thanks again for coming down here and hanging out with me for Christmas.” I smile.

“And for helping me to get a few things crossed off my list.”

Truth be told, I had so much fun the past few days, and I’m not ready for him to leave.

As much as I love Charleston—and I do—I miss home.

Having Ryder visit from Maine was great, but now, I’m feeling even more homesick.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Brat.” He grins at me, making me blush.

“Truly.”

“Well, I guess you should go in now,” I say, chewing my bottom lip.

“Looks pretty busy today.” I shift around on my feet like a teenager on my first date with my hands still tucked into my pockets.

“Yeah, I guess I probably should,” he drawls.

As I take a few steps back, he flashes me a devious yet somewhat-still-boyish grin.

“What, no hug goodbye? Friends hug, you know.”

I look thoughtfully at him, knowing he’s right.

“I suppose they do.” I bite down on my lip hard to stop the smile from stretching across my whole damn face.

Friends don’t make each other’s insides feel the way mine do right now.

But that’s what’s going on in my body.

I’m nervous, and my hands are clammy.

I’m saying goodbye to a man who is supposed to simply be a friend, but last night, we did things friends sure as hell don’t do to each other.

And I loved every second of it—annoyingly enough.

Without warning, his huge arms wrap around me, and I lean closer against his strong build.

Friends may hug, but I don’t think their hearts beat this fast when it happens.

I fight the urge to melt against him because that wouldn’t be appropriate for this agreement.

Pulling back slightly, he grins down at me before planting a kiss on the top of my head.

“Thanks for a really good few days, Sail-On,” he murmurs against my hair.

“It was a damn good Christmas, if you ask me.”

For a moment, we just stand there on the sidewalk, frozen in time and completely entranced in whatever this pull is that drags us together.

Finally, he drops his hands from my body and reaches into his pocket before taking out his phone.

“Oh yeah, one more thing,” he utters gently, turning the screen toward my eyes.

“And don’t freak out because friends also give each other gifts, so consider this a Christmas present.” He winks.

“You know, since you smothered my face between your legs before I got the chance to give you this.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes, but when I look at the screen, my heart leaps in my chest. I take in the picture of a hotel that overlooks Times Square.

I squint a little harder at the date and see that it’s for New Year’s Eve.

“You didn’t,” I whisper, my hand lifting to my mouth as I stare in awe.

“I did,” he says modestly.

“You mentioned last night that you get New Year’s Eve and Day off because you’d worked Christmas. I took that as a sign that there was no better time than the present for you to check off another thing on your list.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Although, after you went on that really nice and proper first date with that extremely good-looking guy last night, I’m not sure how he’d feel about you making out with a stranger at midnight.”

“Is that so?” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

“Guess it’s a good thing we agreed on friends with benefits, right? Because I think that includes kissing.”

“Oh, it absolutely does,” he says quickly, smiling so hard that a dimple pops out.

“Everyone knows that.”

“Does that mean you’ll come with me?” I ask shyly.

“Oh, I’ll come with you. Probably in more ways than one.” He winks.

“I have practice on New Year’s Day for a game on the second, but the flight from Portland to New York is quick. I’ll come out, spend New Year’s Eve with you, then head back to Maine. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure I’m there for you to make out with when the ball drops. Wouldn’t want you not to complete the whole task on your list, you know.”

“Thank you so much, Ryder,” I whisper.

“This is an incredible gift.” I look down for a split second, my feet shifting against the gravelly sidewalk.

“I feel awful; I didn’t get you anything.”

His eyes sweep over my face before he leans forward, bringing his lips to my ear.

“Brat, you gave me mine last night when you let me gag you with my dick.” He starts walking backward, away from me, and his entire face grows mischievous.

“By the way, friends with benefits also means during long distance. Have that phone handy this week, would you?”

I whip my head around to see if anyone is listening, putting my palm to my forehead.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll see what I can do, Cambridge.” Stepping back, I push my ass against my car and hold my hand up to wave.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have Taylor Swift and Morgan Wallen to blast.”

“I bet you do,” he chimes, holding his hand up.

“Have a good day, Sail-On.”

He turns, strutting away with his hat pulled low, and all I can do is watch, even though I need to head to work.

Ryder has a way of making it damn hard to look away.

It’s just lust. It’s totally fine, and all is good.

And if it isn’t … at least I got some good dickin’ out of the situation.

And a lot of good memories too.

I’m not worried about him getting attached, even though I said that to him.

I’m worried about myself.

I want to be this mature, grown woman who needs no man.

Yet someone like Ryder Cambridge propositions me with a friends-with-benefits agreement, and here I am …

anxiously waiting for that sexy phone call even though he just barely made it into the airport.

There are moments in life when you see the red flags and you know you’re about to make a mistake, so you pull the emergency brake and get yourself out of the situation.

And then there are other times when you drive past the red flags and maybe run a few of them over while holding your middle finger in the air because you know the reward will be worth the pain.

At least … that’s the lie I’m going to keep telling myself.

Ryder’s dick is gold, and his hands are gems. Just call me a miner, ready to work.

I’m enjoying this man too much to let him go right now, even though soon, when someone new comes along and our little arrangement is over, he’ll leave me in the dust. But I guess for now, all I can do is relish in this thing between us.

And after everything my ex did, maybe I owe myself that much.