Page 41 of Falling Backwards (The Edge of Us #1)

Focusing on work sure is difficult.

I mean, in a way, I can’t not focus on it. It’s Friday—and Black Friday, at that—so there’s plenty going on to keep my attention. In the spirit of such a popular money-spending day, Mr. Polk decided to suspend reservation requirements and even offer brunch. The latter affected me and Maggie a bit since we clocked in for the last hour of it, but the open dining has made the bigger mark on us.

There’s the source of my general distraction, though: Maggie.

Work may be busy, but I still notice her often around the bar area and her hostess stand; either I catch her looking at me or the other way around, and it always brings smiles and held looks. And she lives in my thoughts, so I can’t help remembering all the time we’ve spent together at my apartment, which means I can’t help wishing this wasn’t the day she goes back to her place—and I can’t help having all kinds of little daydreams about us keeping each other like we agreed on in the dark earliness of this morning.

“Oh my God,”

I say under my breath.

I start crafting two Old Fashioneds while memories from that dark and early hour whisper over me for the hundredth time, putting my body’s tiny hairs on end like it’s anticipating having her close again.

Man, what I’d give for that….

What I’d give to even be able to just sit quietly and really think back on all of it.

I’ve done my fair share of fantasizing about her lately, but not for a minute did I think I’d end up making her come from simply, randomly making out in the middle of the night. When that happened, it hit me harder than any other intimate moment I’ve ever had with anyone else. It was fucking incredible. Of course, everything in the minutes before had been so good too—holding her so close while we kissed, finding out just how well her body fit beneath mine, being able to let my hand explore her—but then there was that. Her sudden gasp and the way she said my name while her hips went up against mine like we were…like I was….

We were fully clothed and I wasn’t trying to do anything but kiss the hell out of her, and I still made her come. She was bashful about it, I think, but I don’t know why because I thought it was hot. Special. It was something that was just for me, that happened because of how she felt with me.

God, I didn’t even have her on my fingers when it happened, or my tongue or—

The wet splash of something over my hand startles me out of my thoughts; I’ve gotten a little messy with the bourbon.

Shit, I can’t think like this right now.

But it’s hard not to do. It’s hard not to think ahead to someday when I will be able to feel her properly—and even better, even hotter—in times like that. And it’s hard not to let my mind go back over how she did touch me and how my control was weak at her hand and how I didn’t really care because as much as I didn’t want it to be over so quickly, I also wanted like a motherfucker for her to wreck me with pleasure like I’d done to her.

Oh, did she.

I tune back in to the present as I’m setting the prepared Old Fashioneds on the bar where they can be picked up and taken to their table. I take a few seconds to glance over them and note that I managed to make two perfect-looking drinks while I was lost in my head. The glasses aren’t even wet with the spilled bourbon, and neither am I anymore.

Good job, me.

I can do better, though, and I need to. There are other orders waiting to be fulfilled.

My eyes drift to the hostess stand and find Maggie there, talking on her work phone while she taps around on the iPad. But her being busy doesn’t stop her from glancing up and over here. Her eyes find me, too, and this time, I don’t only get a smile and a scrolling look from her but also a little wave.

I reciprocate it all before I turn back to my work.

But I’m reminded that earlier she confessed to loving me wearing these work suspenders. Even at a distance, the look she just sent me has me daydreaming about—and wondering if she ever daydreams about—her pulling them off me…followed by the rest of my….

Focus up, I tell myself.

Can’t actually manage to feel too guilty about having been so distracted, though, because…well, who could blame me?

I’d be willing to bet that not even Ms. Goody Two-Shoes could.

After all, it’s her warm, heartfelt, delicious gorgeousness that I can’t get out of my head.

—

Ah, yep, since the Thanksgiving holiday is officially over, my and Maggie’s plan for her to stay with me is already at its end. It’s evening now, so her friends are back from their trips and done with any work shifts they, too, had to see to today; their apartment has its usual tenants again.

There is no need for her to return to mine.

I don’t like that she’s not coming home with me again. Didn’t like it when we went ahead and took her stuff back to her place this morning after breakfast and some exercise. Won’t like it for real and for sure here in a few minutes when our drive away from work puts us in her parking lot.

I’m not sure how to say it to her. It’s not that I think we should move in with each other so soon, but…I don’t know. I just….

Actually, it’s that line of thinking that puts the words in my mouth.

“I miss you at my place,”

I say over the music playing. “Already.”

Maggie reaches over and turns down the volume. I stop at a red light, then look over and catch her expression in that very glow through the darkness. And I sigh at how her bottom lip is folded shyly into her mouth in that way I like.

Then it’s suddenly set free and she’s smiling shyly instead, letting out a tiny laugh—I wonder if she’s remembering, like I am, how I recently blurted out that her doing her lip like that does something to me.

“Sorry,”

she says, and I know she is remembering it.

“Trying to make me a distracted driver,”

I tease her.

Her smile grows before it softens again.

“I miss me at your apartment too.”

I tell her seriously.

“Come back anytime.”

“Day or night?”

she checks just as seriously.

“Mmhmm.”

“Okay.”

A joke about blanket stealing halfway blooms in my mind, and her eyes slip over my lips and the rest of me, and mine do the same to her, and I silently will myself not to fall into this most perfect trap towards memory territory while I’m behind the wheel of a car….

As if on cue, the red glow being cast on us turns green. I have to turn my attention from anything that isn’t driving.

I face forwards and get us going again. As I glance around at my mirrors not only to check traffic but to check that no one particularly suspicious is behind us, it dawns on me that nothing weird has happened with Kyle the last few days. When did we last see him? Sunday?

“Thank you for this holiday,”

Maggie says.

“I had an amazing time with you. Felt happy and safe.”

I smile because I love those words, on top of feeling encouraged about Kyle. I don’t look over to her, but I hold my hand out for her to take. She does, right away, and notches our fingers together tightly.

“It was amazing and happy for me too,”

I tell her.

“And you’re welcome.”

I pause, then remind her.

“I’m all yours. You’ve got me and you can count on me.”

She lifts our tangled hands to her face and nuzzles them with her cheek. I do my best to brush at her soft skin with my thumb.

“Back at you, Luke,”

I hear her murmur.

A minute passes in silence, and then we start talking about the shopping we did today before work. It was hectic because of the Black Friday shoppers, but it felt good to finally buy stuff for the homeless shelter and food bank and drop it all off. The couple of staff members we spoke to were bright and grateful; the ones at the shelter said they were in great need of a particular few items we brought, so that made us even more glad to be donating.

“That was an unforgettable feeling,”

Maggie says.

“That feeling of having done something to help people.”

“God, I know,”

I agree, recalling how I felt as we were getting back in my car to leave the shelter. ‘Unforgettable’ is the exact right word for it.

“I wanted to do more good. Still want that.”

“Me too. Sometime soon, we’ll have to figure out what to do next and who to do it for.”

“Absolutely.”

“The women’s shelter would be a good choice.”

I nod.

“Women and kids escaping bad situations, right?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah, I love that idea.”

“I bet they’d need similar things to what the homeless shelter needed, but we can call and….”

By the time we’re parked in her apartment’s lot, we’re freshly excited to do more donating to this new place. The night is frigid and the ground is wet from the rain that was here earlier, so we carefully walk towards the building with her under one of my arms and her arm around me. As usual, I keep checking around us for any sign of Kyle, satisfied that there’s still none at all.

I don’t mention it to Maggie. I just join her in voicing unsympathetic views on people who abuse others.

Thinking about assholes like that makes me hot with anger just as it makes something in me hurt for those they hurt. There’s a tightness to Maggie’s tone when she says she doesn’t know how she’d react if she ever witnessed someone being treated meanly like that.

“Well,”

I say.

“if it turns out you can’t keep from throwing punches and you get arrested, I’ll bail you out of jail.”

She doesn’t laugh, and I’m glad because I’m not kidding. She just says.

“Thank you. I’ll bail you out, too, if you’re the one who gets in trouble for putting some sorry bitch in their place.”

I stamp a kiss to her hair.

“Thanks. The trouble would be worth it.”

“Sure would.”

There are a few people here and there between us getting into the building and getting to her floor. It’s warm and well-lit in here, which is nice, but it feels weird to be getting ready to drop her off like I did so many times before; I know she feels the same way.

And not just because she stops me outside her door and pulls me into one last kiss, though that does say something.

Her lips seal to mine once, twice, again….

Her grip is at the open edges of my coat, then inside on my waist.

Her body curves against mine at the urge of my hands along her back.

I can’t keep from thinking about our time in my bed. Her standing pressed between me and my bar counter. Us laughing in my oversized chair. Me watching her cook in my kitchen.

I’ll be going back to my apartment alone. Back to a place empty of her and crowded with the marks she left on it.

One of my hands slips through the soft hair at the back of her head while my tongue slips along her bottom lip. Her inhalation is as quiet as the plea that escapes me.

“Open your mouth for me, Maggie.”

She does with another soft little breath, and I deepen our kiss, eager, grateful, adoring.

She matches me on all of it.

Everything seems to slow so we can live in this for these moments.

Too soon, the kiss slows, too, all the way to another chaste press of our lips, and then to nothing.

Laughter and muffled chatter is coming from behind both her door and another somewhere nearby. The ding of the elevator sounds at the end of the hall and then more voices are floating this way. It seems like it’s time to get her into her apartment.

I click my tongue in reluctance.

“Ready to go inside?” I ask.

“I suppose,”

she murmurs.

So in we go.

And we are bombarded straightaway by Joy and Emma, both of whom are smiling at me as well as Maggie—God, it’s still so strange to see Emma regard me with friendliness. Strange in a good way. It never hurt my feelings or anything that she didn’t care much for me, because why would she have? I did Maggie wrong and Emma stood by her. But it’s nice that she seems to have warmed towards me since Maggie has. I don’t get the feeling she does that around too many people. She’s a tough girl who isn’t afraid to let her attitude loose.

Maggie trusts me, so Emma does too.

Yeah, that’s a nice feeling.

And of course Joy is friendly; she’s a friendly person in general. There’s sincerity in how she asks about our holiday and includes me in the questions and bright expressions. She’s the first to thank me for taking care of Maggie while this apartment stood empty and lonely.

Emma is the first to say.

“Fuck yeah,”

when I finally mention that we haven’t seen Kyle anywhere for the better part of this week. Her pleased expression gets aimed directly at me while Maggie and Joy grab hands in hopefulness.

“Maybe what you said to him at the park did the trick, Bramhill. I know we were told not to confront him, but you acted in the moment when he came up on y’all, and I’m glad you did. Seriously, it sounds like it was the right thing to do.”

She sighs and puts her gaze on the ceiling, suddenly seeming annoyed.

“I wish I had been there. Had so much I wanted to say to that guy….”

Maggie, Joy, and I all laugh a bit at that, even though we know she means it. Then Maggie trades holding Joy’s hand for holding mine.

I give hers a squeeze, but as she asks about the girls’ holidays in return, I get the feeling that it’s time for me to leave. Not that I’m being intentionally scooted aside—I just know how close Maggie and her friends are, and since they’ve all been apart for days, they’re falling into their natural chatter.

When I find a good second, I tug Maggie closer to me by the hand I’m holding, then tell her quietly.

“I’ll go so y’all can catch up, okay?”

She turns a sweet but disappointed look up to me. Briefly, she seems like she might protest, but what would she really suggest? That I sit in on her girl time when I’ve had her to myself basically all week? Or that I stay and we go to her room even though her friends undoubtedly want to hang out with her?

Nah. I feel disappointed to be parting ways, too, but I want her to have fun with Joy and Emma, not to have to consider me. Plus, I’m hungry and I’m sure she’s ready to find some food for herself, maybe even with the girls.

So I tell her.

“I’ll text you when I get home, and we can talk on the phone or something later if you feel like it.”

“I will feel like it,”

she assures me. She curves a soft smile at me.

“I…guess I’ll see you out the door.”

After her friends and I have exchanged goodbyes and I’ve been thanked again for keeping Maggie with me this week, I step out into the hallway. Maggie closes the door as much as she can while standing in its way, and she reaches her free hand out to me in a wordless invitation mixed with a request. I slip my fingers from her palm up to her elbow, leaning in and down and stamping a kiss to her lips, then her cheek. She kisses my jaw for longer than I expect.

Damn, my insides sigh.

“Drive carefully,”

she says softly as we lean back.

I nod.

“Have fun.”

She nods too.

It feels like there’s more we each want to say, but we both know we can’t stand here all night trading off little preambles to our goodbye. Glances go over faces and along bodies, and I get the feeling she takes a mini trip back to this morning just like I do, and then we smile as we both take steps back from each other.

A counterintuitive move. A move we make nevertheless.

Once I’m in the elevator, I turn to look back down the hallway and I see her head poking around the doorframe. I snort into laughter at how cute that is. We wave at each other until the elevator doors close me off from her.

The ride to the first floor feels so blah.

But as I walk out the front doors, I decide to try to have some fun of my own. I haven’t seen Paxton in a while, so I’ll hit him up and see what he’s doing; maybe he wants to grab food or play some games. And if it turns out to just be me for the night, then that’s okay. I don’t have to be with Maggie to laugh at Arrested Development.

My phone vibrates once in my pocket. I fish it out and see a text from Maggie herself:

Nice ass

A laugh bursts out of me. I look up to the windows on the outside of the building. Plenty of the second-level ones are lit up, but only one of them has the figure of a dark-haired young woman standing in it, aiming a thumbs-up at me.

ME: Why, thank you. You have nice everything

I send a thumbs-up back to her window and wonder if I can really tell that my little truth makes her laugh or if I’m just imagining that.

MAGGIE: Hm. At the risk of sounding like a copycat, I must say you actually have nice everything too

ME: ;)

MAGGIE: ;)

I chortle all the way to my car. When I’m not checking for Kyle again, I’m turning glances back up to her window and finding her there every time.

Not sure if she’s watching to make sure of my safety or because she really is checking me out from a distance. Maybe both. I would like both.

One thing is definitely true: that girl is funny.