Page 38 of The Deals We Make

“What do you want?” I say when I open the door.

“We going to argue about this all over again today, Calista?”

“Argue about what? How we aren’t friends?”

“Just let me in. You’re letting all the heat out.”

He sighs and looks at me the way he always used to. I wish for a millisecond that his eyes weren’t so damn persuasive. I think about the time he wanted to spend the summer camping in tents next door to each other. I didn’t want to because I hate mosquitos and the outdoors. He wanted to because he shared a bedroom with his younger brother and wanted some space.

I told him he didn’t need me to camp for him to camp.

And he told me it wouldn’t be the same without me. On his own he was just a weird kid camping in his own yard. With me in my own tent next to his, we could pretend we lived anywhere other than Asbury Park. We could pretend we were neighbors in a Manhattan condo or a Malibu beach house.

He’d looked at me then as he’s looking at me now.

I ended up spending the summer in the tent. And it hadn’t been as painful as I’d imagined.

Perhaps the same would happen today.

Because it’s a strange thing, carrying so much hate for the man you loved.

I step out of the way and let him in.

He smells of fresh air, wholesome and earthy. “It’s warm in here,” he says.

I put my hands on my hips. “The guy came and got the heating working again.”

“What’s the skip for?” he asks.

“Did you just come here to ask me questions, or was there a purpose for this intrusion?”

Vex smirks and his dimple pops. “Babe, if you’re hungry, go get a snack. If you’re tired, go get some sleep. But don’t talk to me like that when you kissed me with that same mouth less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“First, I’m not your babe. Second, I’m not hungryortired.” It’s a lie. I slept like shit on the sofa. First, I was too hot in front of the fire, then, I tossed and turned on the lumpy cushions. When I woke, my knees hurt from being bent like a pretzel for most of the night. And my dreams…well, they were filled with images connected to his third point. “And third, we aren’t talking about that kiss. It was a mistake.”

He sits down on the sofa and pats the cushion next to him. “Didn’t feel like a mistake from where I was standing.”

I sit down on the chair. The one across the room that couldn’t be any farther away from him unless it were outside the damn house.

Words tumble in my head, but none of them are strong enough, witty enough, hard enough to make Vex leave.

But thoughts rush in. Of how it felt to walk away with such an ache between my legs for the man sitting there so calmly.

How I touched my clit once I lay down on the sofa in the darkness, desperate for sleep, but too revved to forget what had happened.

The orgasm I brought myself to was almost as good as the kiss. I’d allowed my mind to daydream to a place where I’d let him remove my denim and released his cock from his jeans.

I’d come to the imaginary grunts he’d make as he came deep inside me.

“Stop trying to find some smart-ass comment to say. And we don’t need to talk about the kiss.”

“We don’t?” Mentally, I slap a palm to my forehead. I’m the CEO of a successful company. I know how to galvanize my team, schmooze investors, and control the media narrative about me.

Now? I’d probably struggle to recite my ABCs.

He shakes his head. “Tell me what we’re working on today.”

“I don’t need?—”