Page 6

6

WEST

T he moment I said the words, I wanted to take them back.

Drew’s bright-blue eyes clouded over, his usual sunny smile dimming. “Oh. Right, of course.” He turned back to the pot and stirred the bubbling sauce. “I just thought…never mind. I’ll put the leftovers in a container so you can have it tomorrow. You know, if you want…for your lunch at work or something.”

“Everything okay?” I asked, studying his face.

Drew shrugged, aiming for nonchalance and missing by a mile. “Yeah, totally. I should have asked you first. Off you go,” he said, pushing me toward the door. “You don’t want to leave your date waiting.”

“Wait—what?”

“Your date. You have a date.”

“I do?”

He stares at me. “You’re wearing the jeans.”

I look down at my legs. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You always wear those jeans when you have a date. They make your ass look?—”

I smiled when he stopped himself by putting his hand over his mouth. He turned to face the stove, but I stopped him and flipped him back around.

“How do these jeans make my ass look, Drew?” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Squishable.”

I chuckled and leaned in close, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “Noted.”

His body shook with an intake of breath before he pushed me away, his brows furrowing.

“I’m only joking. I actually ran out of clean jeans. I was on my way to the Foundation to do some work, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

Drew’s head snapped up, hope lighting his features. “Yeah?”

I nodded, ignoring the voice in my head that screamed this was a terrible idea. “You know what keeps my ass looking squishable? Your pasta dishes.”

Drew’s face lit up. “Seriously? You’re staying?”

“Don’t get too excited. I’m tired, and you’re going to feed me carbs. I’ll be asleep on my plate before I finish it.”

He chuckled. “I promise I won’t let you drown in my special sauce.”

I raised an eyebrow before we both burst into laughter.

Seeing Drew like this brought all my feelings to the surface. The way his eyes closed all the way when he laughed. The almost-dimples on his cheeks, the perfectly-straight teeth, and just…him. My sweet, smart, beautiful Drew.

When I opened the cupboard to grab the plates, I saw a bottle of red we’d had for a while. It was a gift, so we’d saved it for a special occasion. Our first night at home together in weeks definitely counted as a special occasion.

We fell into an easy rhythm, moving around each other with the familiarity of longtime friends.

“You said you were going back to the Foundation,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “How are things out there? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help you much since the fundraiser.”

“Hey, it’s fine. Nothing but spreadsheets and boring shit, but we’re almost ready to start offering contracts.” Which reminded me. “Actually, if you have some time, I could use some help with that.”

His eyes bugged out.

“No, not the paperwork,” I reassured him. “The calls. You’re the one with the people skills.”

Drew gave me a sheepish smile, but I was right. Together, we worked. I could do all the paperwork and was good with people when they needed fixing, but negotiating with contractors who tried to get the best of me? I hated it. I knew they were taking advantage of me, they knew I knew they were taking advantage, and in the middle of the battle, I usually ended up calling people unsavory names and moving on.

“You mean I’m the one born with the patience gene.”

“Yeah, that one.”

As I launched into explaining our latest project idea, Drew leaned forward, completely engrossed. His enthusiasm was contagious, and soon, we were bouncing ideas back and forth as we devoured the delicious pasta.

“What if we partnered with local businesses for a mentorship program?” Drew suggested, gesturing excitedly with his fork.

I nodded, my mind racing. “That could work. We could focus on at-risk youth, give them real-world work experience.”

“Exactly! And maybe tie it into that summer camp idea you had?”

We continued like that until the food was gone and most of the wine too. Watching Drew’s face light up with each new idea, I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with alcohol. This, right here, was why we worked so well together. Our shared passion, our ability to build on each other’s thoughts—it was magical.

We settled on the couch to watch an episode of some series Drew was into. I barely paid attention to it because my focus was entirely on Drew sitting so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“These guys are so funny. I can’t wait for the next season.” Drew chuckled, stretching his arms overhead. His T-shirt rode up, revealing a sliver of tanned skin. I forced my gaze away, swallowing hard. He turned to me with a lazy smile. “Thanks for staying, West. It’s been a while since we’ve done this.”

I nodded, ignoring the pang in my chest. “Yeah, it’s been nice.”

As I shifted to reach for the remote, a sharp pain shot through my lower back, tearing a groan from me.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” I lied, forcing a smile. But Drew knew me too well.

“Bullshit,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “What’s going on?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s nothing, really. A little back strain from some stuff I’ve been working on at the Foundation. My back’s reminding me I’m not twenty anymore.”

Drew’s frown deepened. “West, you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. Your work can be physically demanding, and now you’re doing more than paperwork at the Foundation?”

I wanted to tell him I was fine, that he didn’t need to worry. But looking into those concerned blue eyes, I felt my resolve crumbling. “I know,” I admitted quietly. “It’s just… There’s always more to do, you know?”

Drew’s eyes softened, and he shifted on the couch, turning to face me fully. “I know, but you’re no good to anyone if you burn yourself out. Here, let me help.”

Before I could protest, Drew’s hands were on my shoulders, gently urging me to turn around. “Drew, you don’t have to?—”

“Shut up and let me take care of you for once,” he said, his voice a mix of exasperation and fondness.

I hesitated for a moment, then gave in, turning so my back was to him. Drew’s hands settled on my shoulders, and I had to bite back a groan at how good it felt.

“Jesus, West, you’re like one big knot,” Drew muttered, his thumbs digging into a particularly tense spot.

I let out a low moan. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Drew’s breath hitched slightly, but his hands didn’t falter. “Yeah? Good. Just relax, okay?”

I tried to do as he said, letting my eyes close as Drew’s strong hands worked their magic on my aching muscles. Each press of his fingers sent sparks of pleasure-pain through me, and I found myself melting under his touch.

“Lower,” I murmured. “To the left a bit.”

Drew complied, his hands sliding down my back. When he hit a particularly sensitive spot, I arched into his touch with a groan that was embarrassingly close to pornographic.

“There?” Drew asked, his voice sounding oddly strained.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Drew’s hands were doing incredible things to my body, and I was acutely aware of how easy it would be to lean back into him, to turn my head and capture his lips with mine…

As Drew’s hands continued their ministrations, kneading and stroking in all the right places, my body responded. Heat pooled in my groin, and I shifted uncomfortably, praying Drew wouldn’t ask me to turn around. There was no way I’d be able to hide my erection in these jeans.

“You okay?” Drew asked, his breath warm against my ear.

I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, just… It feels really good.”

Drew’s hands stilled for a moment, and I held my breath, wondering if I’d said too much. But then he resumed his massage, his touch somehow even more intimate than before.

“Good,” he murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear it. “I want you to feel good, West.”

Drew’s hands suddenly stilled on my shoulders, and I felt him pull back. The loss of contact was like a bucket of cold water, snapping me out of my heated daze.

“I, uh…I should probably call it a night,” Drew said, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “Just remembered we’re taking inventory at the restaurant tomorrow, so I have to go in early.”

I turned to face him, holding a pillow over my lap and trying to ignore the way my body ached for his touch. “Right, of course. Thanks for…you know. The massage.”

Drew nodded, running a hand through his tousled hair. “No problem, man. What are friends for, right?”

Friends. Right.

“Yeah,” I managed, forcing a smile. “Get some rest. Knock ’em dead tomorrow.”

Drew flashed me a grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Always do. Night, West.”

As he disappeared down the hallway, I collapsed back onto the couch, my mind reeling. What the hell had just happened? One minute we were joking and relaxed, the next….

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. This was exactly why I’d kept my distance lately. Every moment with Drew felt charged, loaded with potential and unspoken feelings.

Another show played silently across the TV screen, casting a glow over the room. I stared at it, but I couldn’t say what was on as I replayed the evening in my mind. The easy conversation over dinner, the way Drew’s face had lit up when I’d decided to stay, the feeling of his hands on my skin…

I needed to get it together, even if I knew it was hopeless. Drew had wormed his way into my heart years ago, and try as I might, I couldn’t shake him loose.

I sighed, a familiar ache of longing settling in my chest. When had things gotten so complicated between us?

As I finally turned off the TV and headed to my room, I knew sleep would be a long time coming. The memory of Drew’s touch lingered on my skin, a bittersweet reminder of what I couldn’t have.