Page 6

CHAPTER 6

MONROE

“How are things going with Nash in the off-season?” I ask Reese, who sits across the table from me, Blakely on her right, at our usual brunch haunt.

She grins while she chews her bite of pancakes, nodding. “Really well,” she says after she swallows. “We’re enjoying the time off.”

“I bet you are,” I tease, slicing off a piece of my Belgian waffle and taking a bite, sighing contently. “And Lawson?” I ask Blakely. “How is that?”

“Fantastic,” Blakely says. “We’ve started talking about moving in together.”

My eyebrows raise, but the smile on my best friend’s face is everything. “That’s amazing!”

“Definitely,” Reese agrees. “Have you set a date?”

“No, not yet,” Blakely says. “We’re still in the discussion phase, but honestly, it makes sense. I’m over at his place more than my apartment.”

“Speaking of living with a Badger…” Reese says, eyes on me. “How are you adjusting?”

I nod, taking another bite to give myself a moment. I knew this conversation would be coming, seeing as how we spent the first half of brunch catching up on all things work related. Now on to the personal stuff. We have a running group text, so they know daily deets I give them, but…yeah.

“Paxton really saved my ass,” I say, blowing out a breath. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“And I’m assuming you two get along just fine as roommates?” Blakely asks, picking up a piece of bacon and taking a bite. “You mentioned a little at Clay’s party, but didn’t fully divulge.”

“Of course,” I say. “We’ve been friends forever, so there’s a trust between us that makes living together a breeze. It helps that I never get tired of him, and he’s been so damn sweet. He even turned one of his extra bedrooms into a massage space so I don’t have to travel to clients if I don’t want to.”

“Holy shit,” Reese says, and we all laugh at her shocked reaction. “Sorry,” she chuckles. “But that’s huge. Talk about the definition of if he wanted to he would .”

“Right? I’ll never be able to repay him, even though he says I don’t need to. And he’s letting me crash his off-season trip tomorrow, like I mentioned.”

“To the Maldives,” Blakely says. “I wish he would’ve told Lawson about that trip. We could all go together.”

“Same,” Reese says. “But I get he wants a solo friend trip with you.” She eyes me suggestively.

“It’s not like that,” I say, but can’t help the thrill rushing through me at the thought. “He booked the trip before he even knew I’d be living with him.”

“That kiss at Clay’s party a couple weeks ago says otherwise,” Blakely says.

I take a large, hot gulp of my coffee.

That damn kiss.

It shook me up in ways I’d never felt before and hadn’t been able to get out of my mind since.

“You’ve dodged us on the group text when we’ve asked about it,” Reese adds. “But you can’t run away now. Not with an endless waffle bar in sight.”

I laugh, some of the tension loosening in my chest.

“So?” Blakely says. “Was that kiss as steamy as it looked? Because holy hot.”

“Hotter,” I admit, and they both squeal.

I glance around the restaurant, dipping my head. “Smooth,” I say after the table next to us has stopped looking at my friends’ display.

“You can’t blame us,” Blakely says, grinning at me. “We’ve not-so-subtly been suggesting for years that you and Pax are amazing together.”

“He’s my best friend,” I say, the argument my shield to protect my heart.

“Lawson was my friend,” Blakely counters. “Obviously not nearly as long as you and Paxton, but still. We were friends before we were…more.”

“And that kiss looked like more,” Reese says.

I lean back in my chair, contemplative. “It was more,” I admit, shaking my head. At least they don’t squeal this time, likely noting the worry lining my face. “But I don’t know what that means. Do we have chemistry simply because we’ve known each other so long and that’s all it is?”

Reese shakes her head. “I don’t think chemistry works like that.”

“You either have it or you don’t,” Blakely says.

“We definitely have it,” I say. “I didn’t know that…I maybe, sometimes wondered about it, but I didn’t know .”

“And now that you do?” Reese asks.

“And you’re living with him?” Blakely adds.

I press my lips together and shrug. “I don’t know,” I answer. “I think the kiss, or quite honestly, everything that happened with Liam and the way Paxton showed up for me—the way he always shows up for me—has made me want to admit to things I’ve denied for a very long time.”

Reese gasps, but nods for me to continue.

I sigh. “I maybe, kind of, have feelings for him.”

They both flash me sympathetic looks. “Yeah, that’s not news,” Reese says.

I take another bite, chewing it a bit harder. “I never wanted to admit that out loud because there’s too much at stake.”

“What do you mean?” Blakely asks.

“Paxton has always been my safe space,” I answer. “Ever since we were kids. The whole reason I have anxiety in crowds is because once, when our families were on a trip, I wandered off in a busy market and then suddenly couldn’t find my family. I was in a place I didn’t know, alone, and completely terrified I’d never find them. I panicked…” My throat tightens with just the memory even though it’s been over a decade since it happened. It doesn’t matter how long, that moment created a ripple effect through my life anytime I got separated from whoever I was out with in any crowded spaces. “But Paxton found me. I don’t know how. He always finds me.”

“And I have hundreds of stories like that,” I continue. “Not all of panic, but just…him. Me and him. Our lives are so tightly woven together, can you blame me for not wanting to risk that?”

“I totally understand,” Reese says.

“There’s a lot at stake,” Blakely adds.

“Exactly. I can’t throw away a lifetime of friendship just because I have feelings for him, and he kisses like a Greek god.”

They both chuckle at that.

“I can’t risk losing him,” I admit. “Because that’s what’s at stake. If we cross those lines, there’s no going back. Say it doesn’t work out between us? There’s no way we’d ever be like we are now ever again. And besides, he wants things I don’t—marriage, kids, dogs. All of it.”

“I don’t think you’re giving Paxton enough credit,” Blakely says, then flashes me an apologetic look. “Not that I don’t fully get your point. I’m just saying, he’s an emotionally mature and intelligent guy. I don’t see you two trying something beyond the friendship, it not working, and him going cold on you.”

I nod because I can’t, either.

“But still,” I say, terrified of the hope yawning to life in my chest. “Would it be worth even trying?” I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since Paxton found me at that music festival.

“That’s going to be up to you and him,” Reese says. “I think it’s clear to anyone with eyes how much you two adore each other. Friends or no.”

“I think you should, at the very least, stop denying the feelings,” Blakely offers. “Maybe just start there and let yourself listen to your heart for once.”

I nod. “I can do that.”

Small steps. All I have to do is stop shoving down any feeling that is more than friendly when it crops up around Paxton. There’s a certain relief in that notion, thinking about how exhausting it’s been denying the feelings in the first place.

“What about Liam?” Reese asks, changing the subject. “Is he still texting and calling randomly?”

“Yep,” I answer, shaking my head. “Sometimes it’s an apology text. Other times he’s drunk and trying to get me to listen.” I glance at Blakely. “Nothing like with your ex, so it’s no big deal.”

Blakely waves me off. “It doesn’t have to be borderline harassment to make you uncomfortable. You don’t deserve any of the BS he’s been throwing your way.”

“Right? Like it so wasn’t that serious. I thought for sure he would’ve moved on by now.”

“Hopefully he does soon,” Reese says.

We finish up brunch, which turns into shopping, which turns into dinner, which turns into a drink at The Queen’s Rum . By the time we get our drinks at the bar, I’m feeling refreshed, revitalized, and damn near reborn. There’s something about a long girls’ day that feeds my soul, and I haven’t felt this myself in months.

“You girls have fun?” Lawson asks by way of greeting as he, Nash, and Pax come over to us.

“Always,” Blakely says, smiling up at him before reaching up to give him a kiss.

Nash smiles at us before taking Reese’s hand and leading her away, Reese flashing us a conspirator look as she follows him.

“Good day?” Paxton asks as he leans against the bar, looking downright edible in a soft, light green T-shirt and jeans.

“The best,” I answer, shifting away from where Lawson and Blakely are now wrapped up in their own catch-up session, giving my full attention to Paxton. “I really needed that day with them,” I say, indicating Blakely behind me and Reese, wherever she ran off to with Nash. “They helped me sort out some things I’ve been dealing with.” I blow out a breath. “And I feel so much better about everything.”

Their acceptance and support of all the emotions I’m battling regarding Paxton means everything to me.

“Not that you don’t make me feel better,” I hurry to continue. “And everything you’ve been doing is amazing?—”

“I don’t feel left out because Blakely and Reese gave you a great girls’ day,” he says in a soothing tone before he laughs. “I’m not jealous of them and I don’t feel jilted when you say they make you feel better. It’s not a they did or I did competition. Your happiness is all that matters, no matter how you get it.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, my heart hiccupping in my chest. He always knows what to say to set me at ease and I’m not sure if I’ve ever appreciated it as much as I do now.

Those feelings, the ones I keep buried, bubble to the surface—all warm and fluttery and painting pictures of a future together with my best friend.

My instinct is to quash them, force them down until I can’t even sense them anymore, but I take Blakely and Reese’s advice and just let them be.

It’s refreshing and calming and exciting at the same time.

I smile at him. “You’ve always had this innate ability to read me,” I say, shaking my head.

“It’s not innate,” he says, grinning. “It’s taken years of practice and sometimes I’m still wrong.”

I tilt my head, taking a sip of my drink. “Like when?”

He stands up a little straighter, his eyes flashing with something I can’t read. “Just…times,” he says.

“Tell me.” I laugh. “Maybe I can give you some insight. My guess is you were right, you just think you were wrong.”

Paxton takes a sip of his water before setting it back down on the bar. “Okay,” he says, visibly swallowing. “Clay’s party.”

Heat swarms my skin, but I do my best not to show it. “What about it?”

He smirks. “I couldn’t read you after we played that game.”

I narrow my gaze, totally feigning ignorance. “What part of the game, exactly?”

Paxton barks out a laugh and I feel it in my bones. I can’t stop my smile.

“You know damn well which part, Monroe,” he says, his tone wrapping around my name in a way I’m not used to, more…fiery.

“Oh!” I snap my fingers. “You’re talking about the part where you kissed me?”

He nods. “I wasn’t the only one doing the kissing.”

I stir the ice in my drink with the small straw, doing my best to not look him in the eye, scared he might see everything I’ve been hiding for so long. “You couldn’t read me after that?”

“No,” he says, his voice lowered between us.

I finally draw my gaze up to his, fire licking my veins at the tension tightening between us. The kiss plays on repeat in my mind, the way he’d held me, the way his mouth felt against mine, the way my heart races even now just thinking about it.

My eyes fall to his lips, adrenaline begging me to do it again.

“You want me to tell you?” I ask, my voice almost a whisper as I look up at him.

“More than anything,” he answers quickly, stepping closer to me, almost like he can’t help it.

I welcome the nearness, the closeness between us, allowing myself to feel every sensation as my body comes alive from just the simple act of him standing next to me.

“The first thing I thought was, holy shit, Paxton is kissing me.”

Paxton laughs. “And the second?”

“Nothing,” I say, swallowing hard.

His shoulders drop. “Nothing? Jesus, Monroe. If you want to tell me you think I’m a bad kisser?—”

“No,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “I couldn’t think,” I hurry to continue. “I could only…feel.” I suck in a sharp breath. I’ve always been honest with him before when he’s asked a direct question like this—the only thing I’ve ever hidden is my feelings—so I’m not going to stop now. “It wasn’t possible to form one coherent thought when you were kissing me like you were.”

Paxton blinks a couple times. “Oh,” he says, eyes scanning my face as if he’s searching for the moment I’ll laugh and say just kidding .

I don’t.

His eyes come back to mine, all the rich browns churning with what he’s not saying.

And I can’t find my voice anymore, not after admitting what his kiss had done to me.

He parts his lips?—

My phone buzzes in my pocket, jolting me. I glance at Paxton, wondering if he’ll tell me not to answer, but he nods and picks up his water, taking a drink.

I dig in my pocket, fishing out my phone in case it’s a client that needs to reschedule, but the person calling me definitely isn’t a client. It’s Liam. Again .

“Ugh,” I groan. “Can’t take a hint.”

Paxton looks at the screen, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “Don’t answer it.”

“No, I’m going to. I’m over this. He needs to stop,” I say, setting down my drink with one hand as I swipe open the call in the other. I nod to Paxton before heading through the crowded bar and outside, so I can hear him. “Hello?”

“Monroe,” he says my name on a slur, so I know he’s wasted. “Come over.”

“No,” I say firmly. “You have to stop calling me. It’s getting intense.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, dragging out his words. I can hear his friends in the background. “I really am. I shouldn’t have left you like that. I just got mad.”

“It’s fine,” I say, sighing as I walk around the building as more people are coming into the entrance. I take up a good lean around the corner, where the light is muted and I can stick to the shadows. “I don’t need an apology. I need you to stop calling. I need you to move on.”

“But we were just heating up,” he says, almost a whine.

“No, we weren’t.”

“Let’s fix that then,” he says. “Come over. We can make up.”

I roll my eyes. “Find someone else,” I say. “You know I’m not it.”

There’s a pause, and I hope to hell he’s actually thinking about leaving me alone finally.

“You definitely aren’t it,” he says, his tone harsher now. “I kept trying to give you a chance too. But no. You just…you’re too much of a prude to even try more with me. You’re a massage therapist who doesn’t like to fool around? What kind of bullshit is that? You have all this talent, and I bet you can’t even get yourself off with how uptight you are.”

Stunned silence steals through me and tears gather in the backs of my eyes. It takes me a few seconds to replay the words he just spoke, to allow them to sink in. I don’t mind fooling around, if trust had been earned. God, just because he thought since we’d dated over a month that we should’ve been sleeping together doesn’t make me a prude.

“Did you really just say that?” I snap, trying like hell to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over. He just struck hard and low, hitting me in a sore spot I’ve had for a long time.

“I did,” he says, sounding somehow angrier and drunker. And I get people say stupid shit while drinking, but this…

This is beyond wrong.

“You know what, Liam?” I say, barely able to hold back the tears. “You’re the who can go fuck himself.”

I hang up the phone, shoving it in my bag as the tears come.

“Whoa,” Paxton says as he comes around the corner. “What happened?” He immediately envelops me in a hug, and I fall into the embrace effortlessly.

“He’s just an asshole,” I say, clinging to him. “I should’ve listened to you. He’s vile.”

“What did he say to you?” he asks, his tone low and cold, all that icy rage directed toward Liam, not me.

I suck in a sharp breath, wiping at my cheeks as I finally get a fucking grip. “You don’t want to know.”

Paxton shifts me in the embrace so he can look down at me. “I do,” he says. “Tell me.”

It’s the way he’s looking down at me, his eyes sincere and compassionate, and the way he’s holding me, possessive yet tender, that has all my other senses firing up. We’re pressed together and he’s hugging me like he usually does, but I’m not burying anything anymore so I feel it. I feel him, and he feels so good.

I sigh. “He basically said that I’m a prude who probably can’t even get myself off.” I cringe, mortification threatening to take away just how nice it feels to be held right now. “But it never felt right with him,” I continue.

“Damn, I thought you two had…”

“Slept together?” I shake my head. “Nope. The one time we even came close to…exploring anything, he was wasted, so I stopped it before it could go anywhere. He’s been an asshole to me ever since.”

“Fuck him,” Paxton practically growls, hugging me tighter.

“Yeah, fuck him,” I say against his chest, shaking my head. “But it stings. Maybe he’s right.”

Paxton leans back, looking down at me with nothing but confusion.

“I mean, he’s not the first guy to say that about me.” I shrug. “Every time I try to be intimate with someone, I tense up. It’s too serious. Too big of a commitment to me. Too much to trust someone with all of me, you know?”

He nods. “I know how important trust is for you.”

“Maybe I am broken. Maybe I do put off the prude, non-desirable vibe.”

“You’re fucking joking, right?” he asks, and I blink in surprise at his tone. He releases me, taking a small step back, his eyes trailing me up and down. “Tell me you don’t believe that.”

I sigh. “I don’t know,” I say. “A girl can only hear those things so many times before she starts to believe it.”

“You’re listening to the wrong people then,” he says, stepping closer again. “Because you are the most beautiful, desirable person on the planet.”

A laugh rips from my lips, loud and raw.

Then I go silent when the face he’s giving me is anything but joking.

“Wait, what?”

“You are,” he says, a sort of resigned resolution on his face.

“You…you think I’m desirable?” I can barely get the words out from how hard my heart is beating.

“I don’t think it,” he says, eyes gliding along my body again. “I know it.”

My lips part, words failing me.

“You’re not broken,” he continues, stepping closer. He leans an arm on the building that I’m braced against, caging me in on one side. “You’re perfect. And I’ll show you right here and now just how damn desirable you can be. All you have to do is say the word.”

I’m not sure I’m breathing.

Wait, yes I am. Hard. Trying like hell to keep up with my heart as I look up at Paxton.

“Show me,” I say the words, feeling altogether like a different woman, another version of myself that is open and free and not scared of what may or may not happen should we cross these lines.

Paxton’s eyes flash from my lips to my eyes again. “You trust me, right?” He inches closer, his mouth a breath away from mine.

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling like a coiled spring.

“Say it again,” he demands as he glides one hand behind my neck, tipping my head back.

“I trust you, Paxton,” I say, breathless. “Show me. I want you to show me. Please.”

His mouth slants over mine in an unrestrained kiss, and I gasp at the contact. His lips feel so damn good against mine, and I tremble at the way he parts my mouth and slips his tongue in, expertly flicking it against mine and stealing my breath.

I reach up, sliding my arms around his neck, wanting him, needing him closer.

This kiss is different. It has nothing to do with a game and there’s no one watching us. We’re outside the building, sure, but we’re around the corner and covered in shadows.

This kiss is everything.

It’s fire and hunger and trust.

It’s heat and passion and need.

He gives and I take, and he takes and I give in a clash that has me aching in all the right places.

Pax glides his free hand down my side, grazing my breast but dipping lower and lower, to where the edge of my flowy skirt ends. His fingers meet the skin of my thigh, and I sigh at the contact, my heart pounding as he slowly trails that hand up and up…

He pulls back from our kiss an inch, eyes churning with lust. “Still trust me?”

I nod immediately, not a hint of hesitation in my soul.

His hand moves higher, just barely teasing the cotton fabric covering me. “Still want me to show you?”

“Yes,” I breathe the word. “Paxton, please,” I beg, not caring how desperate I sound. My body is wound so tightly, my skin so sensitive, my lips aching for his mouth. “Just don’t stop.”

“Fuck, Monroe,” he groans before he claims my mouth again, his fingers teasing me over the fabric.

I gasp between his lips, clinging to him tighter as he slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering me, sliding them between my wetness.

“Fuck,” he groans against my mouth before he teases me, gliding one finger inside my heat, then two. He draws back, catching my gaze as he slowly pumps those fingers inside me. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice rough and raw. “You feel this?” he says, curling his fingers and making me whimper.

“Yes,” I breathe.

“This is how not broken you are,” he says, pumping and curling those fingers, every move feeling like absolute heaven.

My mind threatens to analyze it—to unpack why I can feel this way with Paxton so damn easily—but I force it away. I stay right where I’m at, in the very heated present with my best friend.

“I’ve wanted to do this with you for years,” he continues, wetting his thumb with my slickness before dragging it in teasing circles over my throbbing clit. “That’s how fucking desirable you are, Monroe.”

“Paxton,” I gasp as he presses down a little harder on that bundle of nerves, kissing me and curling his fingers at the same time.

My head is spinning, my body submitting to Paxton’s touch without so much as a second of hesitation. My skin is hot, my heart pounding. Everything in me is aching with need. I rock against his hand, chasing that feeling.

He pumps faster, using the heel of his palm to grind against my clit, all while kissing me, his tongue rubbing against mine and making me see freaking stars with every touch.

“Paxton,” I gasp between our lips. “I…I…”

I can’t speak, can’t form a coherent thought. Not while I’m swept under a current of explosive pleasure, my body clenching around him as waves of heat crash beneath my skin as I come on his fingers.

And keep coming.

Paxton’s moves shift, slowing but still drawing out every ounce of pleasure I possess.

I cling to him as I catch my breath, and he gently pulls his hand out from underneath my skirt. He dips down, kissing me again, slower this time and with more meaning?—

“Monroe?” Blakely’s voice sounds from the entrance of the bar, the inquiry jolting us apart slightly.

“Coming!” I call out to her, not wanting her to peek around this corner and see just how tangled up Paxton and I are. Not that we have anything to hide—we’re both consenting adults—but…I’m not even sure how to explain what just happened, my head is still spinning.

“Okay! Just checking!” Blakely calls back.

I look up at Paxton and he grazes a knuckle down my cheek. “Your disappearance has been noticed,” he says, his voice just this side of rough. “You better get back in there.”

“What about you?”

Pax shifts against me, and I gasp, heat blazing up my spine at the hard contact I feel. He kisses me again, quickly this time. “I need a minute.”

I swallow hard, stuck in a locked battle of knowing I should go before I make a terrifying decision, like beg him to take me home right now.

“What if I don’t want to go?” I whisper the question.

He smirks. “We live together,” he says. “A few minutes won’t hurt.”

I breathe, fully feeling the relief of that statement. We don’t have to do anything else right now or analyze what happened or talk it out. He’s giving me the space to breathe and think and it’s…it’s everything.

“Go,” he says. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”

I step out of his embrace, heading around the building, feeling my cheeks burn.

I did that to him. Me .

He wants me, desires me.

I glance over my shoulder, unable to not look back.

His eyes are on me, looking at me in a way I’ve never seen him look at me before.

And after what he’d just done to me?

I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at him the same either.