Page 10 of The Last Key (Baker Girls #2)
CHAPTER EIGHT
DEVON
“So,” Justin says, dropping onto the couch next to me, a beer in hand, “I’m sleeping in the spare room, huh?”
I swallow a swig of my beer. “Yep.”
“And Kennedy is sleeping where?”
“My bedroom,” I say coolly.
He chuckles. “Well, it’s about damn time.”
“There’s nothing going on. We’re just sharing a bed.”
At that, he bursts out laughing. “Dude, what’s my job?”
“Romance novel enthusiast?” I tease.
“First of all, don’t hate. Romance novels are fucking amazing, and that’s leaving out the smutty bits.
God, I just discovered this new author, and I’ve been bingeing her series.
She has me by the balls. Or the heart. Maybe both.
Anyway, to your point, I know romance novels, and let me tell you, you share a bed, sooner or later, you’re going to fuck.
Now, maybe I’m thinking with my dick, but I can’t help but think that’s what you want to happen. ”
“If we’re getting into this conversation, I need a full stomach.” I reach for the pizza box on the coffee table, but he slams his hand over the top, holding it shut.
“You get pizza when you tell me what’s going on here. I’ve known you for ten years, and you’ve never come close to making a move. Now, suddenly, you’re sleeping in the same bed with her when there’s another perfectly good bed available? Is this you finally making a move?”
“Thinking about making a move.”
“Jesus, you move slower than molasses on Hoth.”
I smack his hand off the pizza box and yank it open, grabbing a slice before he can stop me. “Do girls know you’re a closet Star Wars nerd?” I ask with my mouth full.
God, one thing I will always miss about New York is the pizza. When Pizza Hut is your best local option, you know society has failed.
“No,” he says, grabbing a slice of pizza and leaning back against the couch.
“Because that would imply I have actual conversations with the girls I hook up with. But trust me, whenever I meet the right girl, she’ll know all about my love of Star Wars, and she’ll love me for it.
Now, back to you and Kennedy. Sleeping in the same bed and you’re kind of making a move.
Why don’t you just go for it? What’s the worst that could happen? ”
“I could lose my best friend?”
He starts laughing so hard at my words that he chokes on his pizza and ends up in a combined coughing and laughing fit.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
“How do you know?”
He shakes his head and sets his pizza down. “Let me break it down for you. Remember back in college which of you I became friends with first?”
“Kennedy.”
“Yeah. And why do you think that was?”
I shrug. “Because she’s relaxed. Fun. Easy to be around. ”
He makes an obnoxious game show buzzer noise, indicating I’m wrong.
“Nope. It’s because she’s hot.” My eyes fill with fire, and he laughs again.
“And that look in your eyes is why I never made a move. I got the sense she had feelings for someone else. Then I met you. Saw how you looked at her, how she looked at you, and decided I didn’t want to ruin two possible friendships.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t have feelings for Kend like that.
And once I got to know her, any sexual feelings quickly went away since we fell into that sibling-like groove, but it was my intention.
And if it hadn’t been for the way you two looked at each other, I would’ve gone for it.
Basically, the short-and-sweet version is, you’ve had feelings for each other and been completely blind to it for years, so man up, and do something because she totally likes you back ,” he teases.
“Plus, if you don’t use it,”—he gestures toward my crotch—“it’ll dry up and fall off. ”
“And if you get a disease, yours will rot off.”
Justin shakes his head and takes another bite of his pizza. “Change the subject all you want, but stop acting like I’m not right, because I am. You two want each other. One of you just has to find your nads and go for it.”
I grimace as I take another bite of my pizza.
I can’t believe he only became friends with Kennedy because he wanted to hit on her.
Sure, let me pretend that’s why I’m annoyed.
It couldn’t possibly be anything else he said, or that he’s so fucking right it hurts.
I’m a chicken shit.
Kennedy’s soft footsteps across the floor wake me from sleep.
In the dark, I see her moving across the room to the dresser.
She opens the bottom drawer, then pulls something out.
Closing it again, she stands up, then shimmies out of her tight jeans.
I watch the curve of her ass in the moonlight.
Her soft, supple skin that I ache to run my hands over.
Then she takes off her flannel shirt and drops it on the floor before lifting her tank over her head and undoing the clasp of her bra.
I slam my eyes shut. I have no idea if she knows I’m awake and she’s teasing me, but my mother raised me right, so no matter what I might want to see, I’m not going to without Kennedy’s express consent.
I saw her ass yesterday and this morning, not to mention for many years in swimsuits, so I felt okay about that.
The bed shifts and I slowly open my eyes again. “Hi. What time is it?”
“Almost one.” She settles under the covers and lies on her side, facing me. “Sorry if I woke you. I was planning to be back earlier, but I didn’t want to drive while buzzed, and a glass of wine turned into half a bottle. You know Claire.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I texted you, but since you didn’t answer, I figured you were asleep.”
“I’m glad you were safe.”
My gaze lingers on hers. Then, without thought, my eyes drift down to her lips.
“Devon,” she breathes, and my eyes dart back to hers. She runs a hand through my hair and looks deep into my eyes. Then she yawns big and sighs. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say, even though I’ve never felt more awake.
I roll onto my back and extend my arm. She hesitates for a moment, then rolls over, resting her head on my chest and draping her arm over my stomach.
She’s silent for a few moments, and I assume she’s asleep, but then she says, “I like this. Snuggling with you.”
“So do I,” I whisper back, heart pounding.
I pull her closer, and her body grows heavy against mine.
Well, there’s always tomorrow.
Assuming I find my balls before then.