Page 31

I should have known our happy bubble could only last so long. The universe was out to fuck me over any way it could, like usual. Life wasn’t fair. I knew that. And apparently…my bad luck was rubbing off on Alex. Because this was…horrible. Worse than dropping Neil at the airport. Worse than Brendon’s texts.

Way fucking worse.

Monumental levels worse.

Not because it was embarrassing, or mortifying, or humiliating. But because after spending three days attached at the hip to Alex, I was privy to most of his facial expressions. I knew his smirk, his grin, the gooey-proud face he made when he saw June and Roderick together, hidden behind a playful grimace. I knew what he looked like when he was cocky, or horny, or kind. I knew when he was shy, or bashful, or embarrassed by my praise.

But this expression ?

This was new.

One second we were squabbling playfully on our way to the tent from the bathrooms, and the next, everything went to shit.

“Wait,” Alex’s voice was hoarse as he pulled me to a stop. His lips twisted down, brow furrowed, distress evident as he stared at his bare wrist like he couldn’t seem to fathom what he was seeing. The friendship bracelet dangled there. On its own.

And with sickening clarity I realized what was gone.

His watch.

Oh shit.

Fuck.

He’d told me the watch was important .

But like him, I hadn’t noticed its absence—too drunk on our love affair to be anything but blind.

“Your watch?”

Alex nodded, yanking me around—not that I needed encouragement—as we headed back toward the bathroom.

“It’s fine.” He was self-soothing, though the words were directed at me. “It’s probably on the counter. I took it off, right?” I’d never heard his voice that hollow. “Before we…and I just…forgot to put it on. It’s on the counter.” His voice quaked. “I took it off.”

We both knew he hadn’t taken it off.

But it wasn’t until we’d scoured the bathroom that Alex accepted the truth.

He smiled the whole time, but I could tell it was brittle. The smile was a coping mechanism and nothing more. Fake. Flat. Lacking the life and light that usually clung to him in droves.

“What about the cabins?” I offered. “You had it earlier when we were setting up Juniper’s party. We could go check there?”

“It’s too late. Everyone is sleeping.”

“We can be quiet,” I said. “Trust me. ”

“I…” Alex’s lips pinched together. He looked pale, which was not something I’d ever thought I’d say. “ Okay .” His voice was weak to match the pallor of his skin.

“It’s going to be there,” I promised, even though it wasn’t a promise I should make. But I hated seeing him like this. Alex wasn’t supposed to look upset, or distressed, or withdrawn. He was life embodied. Sunshine incarnate.

This felt wrong.

“I hope you’re right,” Alex said, empty smile in place as he allowed me to lead the way.

Me too, I thought, but didn’t say.

Me too.

The watch wasn’t in Juniper’s cabin.

We searched high and low, ducking around the slumbering bodies strewn across the floor. I managed to be quiet enough not to wake anyone. The shadows in the corners of the room taunted me, and my anxiety mounted with every minute the watch remained unfound.

Alex’s sadness was palpable.

It made the air thicker somehow.

He tried to give up again, and I wouldn’t let him. Certain he was only doing so for my benefit, and the second I closed my eyes he’d be outside in the dark alone.

“You don’t need to—” Alex tried.

“ Alex .”

“It’s dark, George.” He was trying to save me. Maybe embarrassed by how much this meant to him? I had no idea. Either way, I stayed stubborn.

“It’s been dark for hours. If we stick together I’ll be fine.” Alex was just coming up with excuses at this point. It was plain as day. He’d had no such worries earlier that night when he’d been sneaking his hand down my pants off these same damn trails.

“We can go to bed.”

I glared at him, and he shut up.

We shined flashlights on the path, hunting between the two parties—down by the lake—and inside the edge of the woods behind the boathouse. Both of us were desperate for a glint of silver.

But we found nothing.

Nothing.

Zilch.

Nada.

With every minute that the watch was missing Alex became smaller and smaller. His massive frame shrank. His normally larger than life presence whittled down. Till he was a wisp of what he’d been. A silhouette blending into the darkness, empty and devoid of hope.

“I’m done,” he finally said.

That was it.

Two simple words were the only warning I received before the frantic search was over. Alex latched on to my wrist, grip cooler than usual as he tugged me away from the dumpsters at the boathouse where we’d been hunting.

He was eerily silent as we climbed the hill toward our tent.

He wasn’t himself.

I wanted to help—to…to fix this.

But there was only one place we hadn’t checked.

The lake where Alex had been helping clean up.

Hunting through the water would be fruitless in the dark—not to mention dangerous . The thought of entering the water at all made my skin crawl. The creek had been bad enough, and entering that had been accidental. The concept of… willingly stepping into the lake sounded like a waking nightmare to me.

But…for Alex ?

I’d do it.

Hell, if it’d been light enough out to make a difference, I’d be knee-deep in water right now.

“Alex—” I tried, only I didn’t know what to say.

“ Don’t ,” Alex’s plea was hoarse. He squeezed my hand tight, betraying his need for closeness as we approached the tent. I didn’t know what to do with this more reserved version of him, but found myself gravitating toward him like I always did. Unafraid, despite his obvious change in demeanor.

It wasn’t like before, when he’d shut down because I’d made fun of his watch at the diner.

I wasn’t scared of him.

Alex was silent as he checked the sleeping bag for bugs. Silent as he turned on the space heater and the nightlight, always catering to my needs. Silent as he crawled into bed before me, then held the flap open in invitation.

Neither of us were pretending to sleep separately anymore.

“Come to bed, Georgie,” Alex said.

Without protest, I did as I was told.

My chest felt tight as I folded my body onto the mattress beside him. I wiggled beneath the slippery fabric cocoon that’d become my home over the last few days. Alex zipped us up without another word. Tense, and unsure how to comfort him—or even if he wanted me to—I lay there unmoving.

A noisy owl hooted somewhere outside the tent—the only sound in the quiet. The tents beside ours were slumbering, and off in the distance, I could make out what I assumed was someone snoring. Maybe more than one person. Like an orchestra of sleep apnea. Far enough away they couldn’t hear us.

Which was good.

Because Alex’s silence was loud.

Alex’s breaths came shallow and short, his usual calm missing. He didn’t reach out to touch me and I didn’t touch him either. I figured he’d want the space. He was always the one to instigate contact—this had to be a sign, didn’t it? That he wasn’t open to it?

He’d said “ don’t ” and I wasn’t sure what that meant.

Don’t ask him about the watch?

Don’t try to comfort him?

Don’t speak?

Don’t touch him?

The options were endless. It wasn’t that I was frightened he’d be angry if I disobeyed. I just…didn’t want to hurt him. Especially not when he was already hurting.

He wasn’t a man anymore—but an open wound.

Maybe…Juniper wasn’t the only person who had been having a difficult time lately. Maybe…the watch had only been a catalyst. Weddings were high-stress in general. But I got the feeling that Alex’s current mood had very little to do with Juniper’s upcoming nuptials or the camping trip in general. Something else was going on. Only I didn’t have enough puzzle pieces to see the whole picture.

Was it because of the car accident his dad had been in?

Was that it? Why would that have anything to do with his missing watch?

“Distract me?” Alex was so hoarse I barely recognized his voice. “ Please .”

Distract him.

Yes.

I could do that.

Relief flooded my body as I turned to face where he was lying on his back beside me. I wriggled in close, and my hand settled on his lower abs. It inched down toward his crotch and Alex’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, stilling the movement.

“Not like that.” He chuckled. “But thank you.” He didn’t release my wrist, simply held it, like the touch was anchoring him. His expression was unreadable, gaze trained on the sloped tent ceiling, blue eyes lost as he peered up at the sky through the see-through fabric panel at the top. The silhouette of his nose and the shape of his lips looked particularly kissable from this angle.

“Distract you how?” I asked.

“Tell me…” Alex trailed off, his brow furrowing. His full lips pressed into a thin line as he mulled over what he was about to say next. “Tell me…what it’s like to be George-Arthur Milton.”

Well, that was random.

“What?” I must’ve sounded confused because Alex finally looked at me. It was only a glance, but the moment those pale blue eyes found mine I was no longer drifting. I became tangible. And my world started spinning once again.

“Imagine it’s next Monday,” Alex said, lips twisting up at the corners. “You’re back home in New York. Tell me about your day, start to finish.”

“This is going to bore you.”

“Nothing about you is boring,” Alex replied immediately.

I couldn’t help but recall the fact that I’d thought he’d called me boring at the barbecue. Somehow…I believed this over that. Maybe he hadn’t meant that before? Maybe I’d misinterpreted that too?

I wouldn’t be surprised.

Alex was more withdrawn than usual, but the fact he was talking was good, wasn’t it? Better, at least than he’d been. It wasn’t as though his request was inappropriate. Certainly not as inappropriate as the fact I’d gone for his dick the second he said he wanted to be distracted. It was innocent, even if it was odd.

“I’m really not all that interesting,” I deflected. “But if you?—”

“ George ,” Alex’s voice was nearly as warm as it usually was. “Believe me when I tell you that you are the most interesting person I’ve ever met. You couldn’t bore me. Not even if you tried.”

I bit my lip to hide my smile but failed. “Okay. Fine. But I warned you.”

“Noted.” Alex turned to face me, leaning on his elbow. It felt too intimate, so I wiggled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.

“It’s…Monday.” I licked my lips, letting my eyes drift shut as I tried to fi gure out how to make my life seem anything other than ordinary. There wasn’t a way to do that though. So I…settled on the truth. “My alarm is set to go off in…fifteen minutes? But Mr. Pickles has decided he’s starving to death and I need to be woken up with his ass on my face so I can get him breakfast.”

Alex’s laugh felt like a reward. “What next?”

“I feed him.”

“Right.”

“He doesn’t like hard kibble. Only the soft stuff. And he prefers turkey flavor over chicken, so that’s what he usually eats. It smells fucking awful. I gag every time I open a can, but he loves it so I buy it anyway. Missy—my roommate—doesn’t mind the smell. She has horrible taste. In most things.”

“And then?”

God help me, this was actually kinda fun. Emboldened by how interested Alex sounded, I continued, “I’ve got a coffee machine that automatically starts brewing. So after I feed Mr. Pickles I’ll chug a cup and hop in the shower. By that point, I’m running early, which always ends up being helpful because I like to um…” I trailed off, realizing I was about to admit that I shaved my legs every morning.

It wasn’t a thing most men did. I knew that. And I worried Alex would think it was weird, especially considering the fact I was blond enough the hair barely showed when it was there anyway.

“You sit on your big fat dildo,” Alex filled in. I squawked, slapping his chest in indignation. He laughed, this melodic, delightful chuckle that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up—along with my dick.

“I shave my legs, asshole,” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest so I wouldn’t be tempted to smack him again.

“Why?” There was no judgment in his tone, only curiosity.

“I like how it feels when I wear suits,” I admitted. “The fabric slides instead of clinging. Plus…it makes me feel powerful in a way? Which is the same reason I wear panties.” Oh Jesus, I had not meant to admit that. Alex made a sound like he was choking.

“Excuse me, what ?” His voice was all gravel. “How is it I’ve been fucking you for three days now?—”

“Barely.”

“And you didn’t tell me you wear panties ?” Alex’s incredulity was softened by how turned on he sounded. “Did you bring some? In your slutty little backpack with your Costco-sized dildo?—”

“Ugh.” I covered my face, cheeks burning.

“Have you worn them around me?” Alex growled. “Are you wearing them right now?”

I almost wanted to say that I was wearing a pair, even though I wasn’t—to see what he’d do. No doubt he’d pull my pants down to check. Even though we both knew if I said I was, I’d be lying. He’d helped me get dressed, and it was his shirt, his boxers, his pants I was currently wearing.

“I wore them the first two days,” I admitted, still hiding behind my hands. “But they’re dirty now.”

“Fuck.” Alex groaned, his hips shifting enough the mattress rocked, like he was trying to relieve the pressure on his cock. “You’re telling me…that if I were to hunt through the pockets in your backpack I’d find…” he sucked in a breath, “ Two pairs of dirty panties?”

“You say that like it’s not gross that they’re dirty.”

“Baby, they’re dirty because they’ve been cupping your sexy little dick all day. You have no idea how bad I want to suck on the fabric while I?—”

“Pair one is dirty because I wore it to the airport. Which is not cute. Airport germs, Alex.”

“Fine—”

“And pair two is dirty because I fell into a fucking creek.” I dropped my hands and leveled him with a glare. “Please control yourself.”

“So you’re saying…if you’d simply been wearing them around your house, and not here, you wouldn’t mind if I…” Alex trailed off with a sharp inhale and then subsequently a low whistle when I nodded, a brief jerk of my head in ascent. “I’m gonna buy you so many panties, George,” he blurted. “A fucking mountain of them. Strappy ones. Frilly ones. Whatever the fuck you want, baby, it’s yours. Jesus Christ.”

Apparently my distraction was working.

Alex sounded like himself again.

I hadn’t really meant to admit any of that—but in hindsight I was glad that I had. When I peeked at Alex, the color had returned to his cheeks and his pale eyes were dark with lust. Like always, he was already watching me. Which by this point was no surprise.

He wasn’t going to do any of that. There wasn’t time, but I appreciated his enthusiasm.

“Does it turn you on to know I wanna suck on your dirty panties? Wanna lick where that sweet cock got them wet, hard all day, aching for me,” Alex continued playing into his fantasy.

“Christ.”

“You look embarrassed,” Alex observed throatily. “But pleased.”

He was the one that looked pleased, lips curling up into a sexy smirk.

“Of course I’m embarrassed,” I croaked. “I just admitted that wearing women’s undergarments makes me feel powerful. Most guys would be.”

Alex debated with himself before shrugging. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But…I don’t think you should be.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s hot,” Alex purred. “And if it makes you feel ‘powerful,’ who the fuck cares if it’s not something ‘most guys’ would do? It’s what you do, and that’s attractive as hell. Just like your stompy little walk when you’re pissed off. Just like the way you’re always pushing your hair back when you’re nervous. Just like the way you won’t look at me when you feel vulnerable. It’s sexy because it’s part of you.”

I’d never thought of it that way, but it certainly did make me feel better. No one had ever seen me so clearly before and it was…startling. I nodded, and Alex’s smirk turned smoky soft. “Okay. So…” he said. “You feed your cat. You shower. You shave your legs. You put on some slutty panties?—”

“They’re not always slutty.”

“Let me live my dream, George.”

“Fine.” I huffed, turning back to the ceiling so I wouldn’t feel so goddamn close to shaking apart. You’re supposed to be cheering him up, I reminded myself. Keep going. It’s working. “Then I put my suit on, brush my teeth, eat breakfast—and brush my teeth again.”

“What do you eat?”

“Oatmeal.”

“Every day?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Alex’s smile was soft. “I thought you said you like to cook.”

“I do—on the weekends. I’m too busy on a typical weekday to find time for anything elaborate.”

“Continue.” He wiggled to get comfortable like I was telling him a bedtime story. The effect was ruined when I heard rustling, glanced down, and caught him with his hand between his legs. He gave his cock a squeeze, and I licked my lips, tempted to reach over and try to help again.

“I ride the subway to work.” Alex’s hand was definitely distracting me.

“Is it normally crowded?”

“Always.”

“What next?” Alex didn’t squeeze again, simply held his dick like it was comforting to do so. I turned back to the ceiling as I tried to get my thoughts out of the gutter.

Which was difficult, all things considered.

“You’re distracting me with your…” I jerked a shoulder, and Alex laughed.

“What? Is my hard dick making your job difficult, baby?” Alex cooed, playful and unrepentant. “Well, tough. Ignore it. I am. ”

“Your hand is literally on it.”

“For moral support.”

“I’ve never heard of masturbating for moral support before.”

“Wanna try? Mutual jerk-off session. We can call it therapy.”

“I think my therapist would be offended that you just said that.”

“I think that you need to spend less time worrying about how hard my dick is and more time telling me my bedtime story. You’re supposed to be distracting me, Georgie. Not taking advantage of me.” It was obvious Alex was joking. I could literally hear his smirk.

But he wasn’t totally wrong.

Even if he hadn’t meant to throw a bucket of icy cold water over me, that’s what he’d done. If we were going to have sex again tonight—something I was not opposed to doing—I wanted it to be after I’d completed his request, not before.

It only made sense.

“When I get to the office I usually grab another cup of coffee. It’s never as good as the espresso machine I have at home. But I need extra caffeine to deal with Brendon.”

“Fucking asshole,” Alex muttered. “I’ve never wanted to punch a dude more.”

Imagining that was gratifying to say the least—Alex’s fist connecting with Brendon’s face, sending him to the ground. Brendon wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Not with Alex’s bulk and athleticism.

There was definitely something sexy about him going all caveman and defending my honor, that was for sure.

“By nine I’m in my office with the door shut—and I will, without fail, always have at least six emails from him. Sometimes texts. He nitpicks everything I do to the point of insanity.”

“He’s just looking for an excuse to talk to you because he’s a bottom feeder who can’t let go.”

“That’s exactly it.” I sighed up at the ceiling morosely. “I swear to god, he’s such an ass. Calls me into his office to chew me out on a near daily basis— even though I’m better at my job than he is at his. Always makes a point to turn the picture on his desk of him and his fiancée toward me when he does. He’ll make a seedy comment or two about my body—or how “tired” I look. He’ll pretend like he cares—even when I am doing my damndest to forget we ever fucking dated and keep things strictly professional. I’ll go back to my office for a much-needed break. And then…by eleven-thirty Brendon will come to find me in my office and invite me to lunch with him.”

“Gross.”

“At the same restaurant we ate at every day when we were together, too.”

“It’s a mind game,” Alex said.

I believed him. It made sense. Brendon couldn’t fathom the fact that I’d ended things with him.