Page 23 of Now That It’s You (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #5)

With the condom out of its packet, she reached for him with her free hand. The instant her fingers closed around him, she sucked in a breath. “Oh, my God.”

She stopped herself there, afraid of what might come out of her mouth next. None of her thoughts were appropriate.

I haven’t slept with anyone since him.

You’re bigger than he was.

I hope this doesn’t change things.

She pushed the thoughts from her head and focused on feeling instead. She rolled the condom on, rewarded by his gasp of pleasure.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“Don’t think,” he said, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. “This isn’t about using our brains.”

She couldn’t help giggling then as she straddled him with her knees pressed against his hips. “What body parts should I focus on then?”

“Let me show you.”

He reached between their bodies and positioned himself at her opening. She didn’t need any further invitation. Meg slid down over him, gasping as he moved hard and slippery into her. A soft cry slipped from her throat, and she hoped like hell he didn’t have any close neighbors.

Kyle smiled and moved his hands to her hips. She began to rock, slowly at first, letting their bodies adjust to each other. His hands moved to her breasts and squeezed, spurring Meg to quicken her pace.

“That’s it,” he whispered, moving with her. “God, you’re beautiful, Meg.”

She twined her fingers with his, palms brushing nipples, fingertips sinking into flesh. He drew his hips up and drove in deeper, making her cry out again.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back as she rode him faster.

She could feel the tension building inside her, which seemed much too soon.

Usually it took forever, or at least longer than this.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him, and she could tell by the tense cords in his throat he was close, too.

“Do it,” she whispered.

“You first.”

The wave hit her, then another and another until she felt something burst open inside her. A white, hot heat flashed through her, and Kyle’s gaze locked with hers.

“Yes!”

His eyes widened, and she felt him pulse inside her. She couldn’t tell where his spasms started and hers ended, but she knew the odds of it happening like this were slim. That some strange, otherworldly force was at play here, making them explode together like magnets lit on fire.

When it was over, she closed her eyes and sank down onto his chest. He stroked her back until their breathing slowed, then rolled her to her side. She curled against him as his hand stroked her waist, smoothing her skin like he was trying to memorize the curve of her hip.

“Holy wow,” Meg said.

“No kidding.”

She took a few gulps of air, then drew back to look at him. “That was unbelievable.”

“I’m surprised we didn’t break the bed.”

She laughed and snuggled into his chest, soothed by the sound of his heartbeat under her ear. Her own pulse began to slow, and she stroked her fingers over the fine hairs on his forearm. Kyle was so still, so quiet, that for a moment Meg thought he’d fallen asleep.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured.

She lifted her head from his chest and smiled. “That I’m really happy right now.”

“Me, too. Deliriously happy. Stupidly happy. Insanely happy.” He smiled, but Meg noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She slid her hand to his chest, resting her palm over his heart. “Is everything okay?”

He seemed to hesitate, then nodded. “I feel amazing. Like—top five moments of my entire life right now.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here.”

He grinned and reached down to squeeze her backside, and Meg gave a squeak of mock indignation. “I’m sensing a butt, too,” he said, cupping her cheek in his palm. “And it’s the best butt I’ve ever had my hands on.”

She giggled and squirmed against him, rolling to rest her chin on his chest. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I am.”

She waited, not wanting to push him. His heart was steady beneath her palm, a deep, comforting thud she could feel all the way up her arm. “Want me to confess a few things to make it easier?”

Kyle smiled and pulled her closer. “You don’t have to, but I’m always eager to hear your secrets.”

“Okay,” Meg said, thinking about it. “Since we’re naked, maybe they should be sex secrets.”

“That’s fair.”

She nibbled her lip. “Confession number one: I’ve never had a one-night stand.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I guess you could say I’m sort of a serial monogamist.”

“How do you mean?

“I dated the same guy for two years in high school, then another guy for almost three years in college. There was one more relationship that lasted about a year, and then I met your brother.”

She let those last words hang there in the air between them for a moment, and she watched his face for a reaction.

His gaze held hers, sure and steady, and he didn’t seem uncomfortable.

Still, Meg wondered if it was taboo to bring up Matt right now, while they lay tangled naked together in sweat-damp sheets.

Kyle reached up and brushed a damp curl off her face. “What about since then?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, and the curl slipped back over her eye. “I haven’t dated anyone since—since?—”

“The split,” Kyle supplied, saving her the trouble of saying the wedding or your brother or something equally awkward.

“Right,” she said, smoothing her hand over his chest.

“Wow. I guess I’m surprised. Does that mean you’ve been with only four men in your whole life?”

She smiled and planted a kiss over one of his ribs. “Five,” she said. “There’s you.”

He laughed. “Right. Can’t forget me.”

“Definitely not. Not after that. Not after—” She hesitated, wondering if it would be going too far to say what she’d been about to tell him.

“What?”

Meg bit her lip. “Not after the best sex of my life.”

He stared at her in stunned silence. “You don’t have to say that, you know.”

“I know. And I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”

Was it her imagination, or did his heartbeat quicken beneath her palm? His gaze was steady, even, watching her with an intentness that nearly made her blush.

Still, he didn’t say anything, and Meg felt an uncomfortable urge to fill the silence. “I guess that’s a lousy thing to say, isn’t it?” she said. “To imply I’m comparing. Especially given the obvious fact of who I’m comparing you to, especially today of all days just a few hours after?—”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. Saying Matt’s funeral right here, right now, seemed like the worst thing she could possibly utter.

The worst thing to even think after sex.

Worse than “I have syphilis” or “Why does your penis bend to the left,” neither of which was true, but her brain was starting to spiral down a dark path now as her own heart began to race.

But Kyle pulled her back from the edge. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay. We’ve just been as intimate as two people can possibly be. I think it’s okay to say what we’re thinking, even if it’s not the textbook dialogue people normally have after sex.”

She gave him a small smile, relieved he didn’t seem upset. “I didn’t mean to disparage him,” she said, cautious not to say Matt’s name. “Things were fine a lot of the time. It was rocky there at the end, but I know a lot of that was my fault.”

“How do you mean?”

She hesitated, wondering if he really wanted to know. His interest seemed genuine, but still. She was so out of practice with dating and intimacy, and she didn’t have a clue what was okay to say here.

She chose her words carefully. “I was pretty upset when the cookbook didn’t take off the way I’d hoped it might,” she said slowly.

“Between that and all the stress of planning a wedding, I guess I just—I didn’t feel like it.

Sex, I mean.” She closed her eyes, feeling the words start to flow now that she’d tugged out the cork.

“I always wondered if that’s why he did it.

Annabelle, I mean. It’s not like our love life completely dried up those last few months, but I know it only happened a handful of times and I’m sure even then he knew I wasn’t really in the mood and?—”

She stopped herself again, pretty sure she’d gone too far. But Kyle slid a hand down her body and pulled her closer. “Hey,” he murmured. “Open your eyes.”

Meg obeyed, and the force of Kyle’s green-gray gaze sent her heart thudding again.

“It wasn’t your fault, Meg,” he said softly. “Please believe me when I say that. You could have sewn your legs together and had your breasts surgically removed and it still wouldn’t have given him the right to cheat on you. Do you understand?”

She nodded, wanting to believe him, wanting even more to move on to another topic of conversation. “Okay,” she said. “I think we’ve covered my three confessions.”

He watched her for a few more heartbeats, then lifted his hand and smoothed her hair back again.

Then he drew his hand back and began to count fingers.

“Serial monogamy, best sex of your life, and—well, I guess you get credit for that last one. Or maybe you get double credit for the best-sex-of-your-life comment.”

Meg smiled, glad to see he was back to joking. She waited, wondering if he still planned to voice his own confession. It was okay if he didn’t. She’d shared enough for the both of them, opening up in a way she really hadn’t planned on.

Still, she caught herself listening for his voice.

“My confession,” he said at last. “Is that while the last hour with you has been one of the finest in my entire life, it seems wrong to have that happen on the day that’s been one of the worst in my life.”

Meg nodded, understanding completely. “That makes sense.” She bit her lip. “Do you believe in God or cosmic forces or some other kind of puppet master out there controlling the universe?”

“I think so.”

“Me, too.” She stroked a hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath her palm.

“And I like to think that he or she or it or whatever’s out there moving the chess pieces around has a way of making sure we never get more than we can handle.

That if you’re going to be handed something really lousy, you also get something pretty great to balance it out. ”

He looked at her for a moment, the intensity of his gaze nearly taking her breath away. Then he reached up and trailed his fingers over the back of her neck, stroking her softly until she lowered her head to rest on his chest again.

“I like that,” he said softly. “I like that a lot.”

Neither of them said anything for a long time after that. Meg felt herself drifting, not to sleep exactly. But off into another realm where there wasn’t any room for regrets or sadness or anger or any of the rest of that.

Right now, it was just the two of them. Kyle and Meg, a pairing of names that sounded both familiar and foreign.

Kyle and Meg , she thought to herself, testing it out.

Meg and Kyle . There was something thrilling about those syllables, something so different from the “Meganmatt” she’d grown used to over the years.

Something that made her heart rate slow again, her breathing drop to a peaceful rhythm that matched his.

It’s just us for now. The only two people in the world.

“Hello?” called a familiar voice. “Kyle, are you here?”

And his mother.