Dearest Series Boxed Set (42 page)

I don’t look at him before I shake my head. “No, I’m good.” Finally, I get the guts to make eye contact. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to get wet.”

His eyebrows pull tight. “I’m cool. I’ll be out there getting some clothes together so I can jump in the shower when you’re done. Call me if you need anything.” He smiles tightly and steps out.

Damn. There’s suddenly so much tension between us. I wonder if he’s pissed his bathroom is covered in water. Maybe I can wipe up some of this mess before he returns for his shower.

As though he’s reading my mind, I hear him yell, “Don’t you dare try to clean in there. Just get dressed.”

Goodness, he can be bossy. I roll my eyes. Of course, a bossy Jax is pretty darn sexy too.

D
on’t screw this up
. Don’t screw this up.

A dozen different emotions have taken residence in my body. One minute, I want to push Danielle up against the door and fuck her senseless, and the next I want to construct a ten-foot wall to protect her from the very vivid fantasies looping through my brain.

But my overriding realization is that I need to get away from her before I do something stupid like molest her.

When I step into the bathroom, I strip off my sopping wet jeans and jump into the shower where the first order of business is to deal with my rock-hard boner. Fortunately, Dani seemed so tired, I don’t think she spotted my wood. It took everything in me not to rock myself against her gorgeous ass.

Yes, I saw it. No, I didn’t mean to. I kept my eyes up, but a man has peripheral vision, and I happen to have excellent peripheral vision.

I was fine—keeping my eyes up and off her nakedness like I promised—until she nearly wiped out, spraying herself with cold water, and then I saw everything. All that beautiful, bare skin. The fine lines of her back and waist.
Her nipple piercings.

Fuck me. Nipple piercings.

The strangest thing is how familiar it all seemed. Almost as though I knew they’d be there even though they’re the last thing you’d expect. Sure, I’ve banged lots of women with all sorts of tastes, but I’ve never met anyone as sweet and innocent as Danielle with piercings like that.

And right now, all I want to do is take them in my mouth and tug. Hard.

With visuals like that, I’m in and out of the shower in record time. I throw on some flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt before I open the door.

“Dani?”

After a quick walk-through of my condo, I don’t see her anywhere. But the sound of retching draws my attention to the kitchen pantry where Danielle is hunched over the trash can.

“Shit. Are you okay?” Pulling back her hair with one hand, I reach over and grab a paper towel with my other and hand it to her.

She wipes off her mouth and turns slowly to me. Tears are streaming down her face, and I decide there is nothing worse on this planet than seeing this girl cry.

“What happened?” I cradle her face in my hand and brush away the tears with my thumbs.

“I… I took my meds but I… forgot to eat something. I just wasn’t hungry, and the meds made me nauseous.”

Before the words are out, she jerks away and throws up again into the trash.

After a few minutes, I walk her back to my room and settle her onto my bed. I place a small wastebasket next to her on the floor and prop up a few pillows behind her back and head into the kitchen.

I call out to her, “Don’t fall asleep. I’ll be right back.”

Dani may not feel like it right now, but she needs to eat or she’ll throw up again. I come back with two bowls of my favorite cereal.

“Lucky Charms?” she asks as she peers in.

“Breakfast of champions.” I glance at the clock. “Or in this case, a late dinner.”

We sit in silence, and I watch her slowly eat around the marshmallows. Finally, she has a pile of color on one side of the bowl as she finishes the rest of the cereal.

“I could have gotten you something else if you didn’t like this.”

She smirks. “No way. I just save the best part for last.” Then she scoops up a big spoonful and shoves it in her mouth. When she swallows, she gets a serious expression on her face. “Jax, you must have things to do this weekend. You don’t need to babysit me. You have a life. Go do what you need to do, run errands, go on dates, whatever. Don’t feel like you have to—”

“Stop. There are only two things I need to do for the next several days. One is to make sure you get better. The other is work out or I’ll turn into a big fattie.”

“Please! I could cut myself on your six-pack.” She smiles at me from under those long dark lashes and then drops her eyes to peer into her bowl.

Ignoring her display of shyness—which is cute as hell—I say, “But I can work out from home. I have all the equipment I need in my spare bedroom. So when you get up in the morning, that’s probably where I’ll be.”

“Okay.” Dani takes another small bite and then sets down the bowl. After I help her wobble to the bathroom to brush her teeth, I set her down on the bed again.

She’s still gripping my arms as she says, “I’m feeling kind of dizzy.”

“It’s your medicine. Your night dose is stronger. Here, lie down.” I rearrange the pillows until she’s comfortable. Truth be told, I don’t like girls staying overnight, but seeing Danielle with her long, thick hair splayed out over my sheets has me reconsidering that.

“I feel bad taking your bed. I can crash on the couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I duck into my closet and grab a sleeping bag and toss it on the floor. “I’d sleep on the couch, but you might get sick again, and I won’t be able to hear you from the living room.”

She frowns. “Tell me you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Jax, you have a huge bed, and unless you’re into groping invalids, I think I’m safe with you. C’mon.”

She pats the mattress with the palm of her hand, and the one thing I know for sure is she’s definitely not safe with me. Except the last thing I want to do is fuck up our friendship. I don’t have friends who are girls, but in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve started thinking of Dani as one. So I will ignore how perfect that tank top looks on her right now—how I can see those hot-as-hell piercings and the way her sweats hang off her hips but fit snug against her ass—and be a good guy. Even if it kills me.

“Dani, I don’t mind—”

“Get up here, Jax. Now.”

Shit. Right now I want to tie her up and make her beg me to fuck her harder.

I laugh. “You’re a feisty little thing.”

“Don’t I know it.” Her head tilts back and her eyebrows lift as though she’s challenging me to say no.

I can do this. I can sleep next to a gorgeous girl and not have sex with her, but first I need some good visuals to distract myself from the way her nipples are poking through that thin material.

Anchorman.
Paul Rudd. My great-aunt Eunice and her chin hair.

Taking a deep breath, I crawl in next to Dani and make sure to keep a comfortable distance. She sinks down into the pillows and sighs. “Thanks for taking care of me, Jax, but you’re doing too good a job because I’m never going to want to leave.”

My room smells like Dani and her shampoo. It reminds me of something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

After a few minutes, her eyes close and her breathing slows.

I think she’s asleep, but she mutters, “You’re too sweet. And you look really good in those jeans.” I grin, but before I can respond, she whacks me with her arm. “Did we eat pumpkin pie today? It’s Thanksgiving, isn’t it? I like turkeys. They have a waddle.”

A waddle? Okay, here come her medicine-induced ramblings. I hold back the laugh that’s dying to burst out of me.

She groans. “God, you looked great in the shower. And your bed is so comfortable. I bet you hear that a lot.”

Aw, hell.

Then she whispers, “Lucky girls,” before she knocks out.

Fuck.

Yeah, it’s a long,
long
night. Dani sighs in her sleep and moans when she rolls over, little sounds that have me dying to press my body up against her. In the moonlight, her skin looks like porcelain. Against her dark hair, she looks like some kind of angel, floating on my bed with her hair covering all of my pillows. And when she whispers my name in the dark, it has me wanting her to stay long after her knee gets better.

When I wake up in the morning, her head is resting on my shoulder and her arm is wrapped around my waist. She’s nestled alongside me, her soft curves running all along my suddenly aching body.

Yeah. This friendship thing sucks.

T
he bed is
empty when I get up in the morning. I can hear Jax running on the treadmill down the hall when I wobble into the kitchen. It’s pretty early. Just barely 8:30.

Thinking about everything he’s done for me since the accident makes me wish the last few months had been different somehow. Maybe I should’ve told him what happened on his birthday the first time we ran into each other at Ryan’s, or maybe I shouldn’t have avoided him all semester. I feel like I’ve wasted time hiding. From him. From me. In business school. Behind Brady.

I’m ready to just be me.

I’m not stupid enough to think Jax and I can be anything more than friends because it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see I’m not his type of girl, but I want to be a part of his life. I think about the conversation I overheard between him and his sister when he brought over that box of high school stuff. About what he’s been through and the way his family neglects him. He might have tons of money and be popular and sexy, but I swear I see sadness behind his eyes—I’ve seen it there all fall—and part of me wants to do what I can to make it go away.

Using one crutch, I amble toward the stove and decide that all of Jax’s awesomeness warrants some kind of reciprocation, and I’m guessing after a hard workout, he’s going to be starving, so I decide to whip him up some breakfast. He clearly wasn’t intending to be around this weekend because his cupboards are pretty bare, but I finally spot a box of pancake mix and a basket of fruit.

After settling on a stool, I set my crutch nearby as I make a big batch of my mom’s favorite apple pancakes.

When Jax strolls down the hall forty-five minutes later, my decision to sit perched up high is called into question because I nearly tumble off when I see him. He’s wearing a pair of running shorts, and that’s it.

He’s glistening, drenched in sweat, which highlights all the peaks and valleys of his perfectly sculpted body. His hair is going every which way, and he looks like some Calvin Klein model who hopped off a billboard. My memories of him half naked did not do him justice.

I close my mouth and look away.

“I, uh, made you some breakfast. If you’re hungry.”

Breathe. Push air through your lungs and breathe.

Clenching my thighs together, I try to ignore the sudden hammering between my legs. His steps sound behind me until I feel his body next to me.

“You made me pancakes?” He sounds so surprised, I snort.

“Yeah. It was rough. I had to actually stir.”

His laughter fills the room before he plants a kiss on the top of my head. “You’re perfect.”

I don’t get a chance to respond before he says he’s going to jump in the shower and will be out in ten.

It takes me every one of those ten minutes to get a hold of myself. I’m more than glad my panties can’t talk. Because they want Jax. Now.

When he comes out of his bedroom, he’s wearing jeans and another t-shirt, but the water droplets on his neck remind me of what he must have looked like a moment ago in the shower. And dear God, do I want to run my hands over that body.

“I hope you like apples.” I push a plate in his direction as I grab my crutch with one hand and my food with the other.

He looks down at the pancakes, curious.

“I shredded apples into the batter. If you don’t like it, I can make you something else.”

“I’m sure I’ll love them.”

We sit at the table, and his beaming smile dazes me.

As he drizzles syrup over the stack, he licks his lips. “Pancakes are my favorite food.”

I watch him take a bite. As he chews, he moans. “Jesus, Dani, these are good.” He shovels in another big bite. And there’s another moan.

Pancakes shouldn’t make me think about sex, but all this moaning makes me want to crawl up him naked.

He shovels in a few more bites and says, “How about you come over every weekend and make these for me?” His enthusiasm for something so simple makes me melt even more.

“If you ate pancakes every weekend, you’d get tired of them.”

“Not a fucking chance.”

I can’t help the lust-filled smile on my face.

He waves toward his plate with his fork. “Besides my sister, you’re the only girl to ever make me pancakes, and these are better. Hers were always a little burned, but don’t tell her I said that.”

There it is. He thinks of me like his sister. Probably a little sister since I’m the size of a hobbit. Trying not to let my smile falter, I nod. “It’s my mom’s recipe. I can’t take credit.”

I’m not hurt. I’m not. I’m good. We’re friends. I can do this.

Grabbing my fork and knife, I slather on a little butter and then carve a grid into my food before I pour syrup into all the nooks and crannies.

“Whatcha doing there, tiger?” he asks with a cocked eyebrow.

Ah, the disdain for my method rears its ugly head.

“I’m going to ignore your mockery and let you take a bite so you can see there’s a method to my madness.”

He eyes me suspiciously, like I’ve committed sacrilege for not simply drowning my pancakes in a river of syrup.

I spear through three perfect squares and hold it out to him. “Here. Tell me this isn’t better.”

He opens his mouth, and I watch the food disappear between those beautiful lips.

“Oh my God. You’re right. This is amazing.” Jax stares down at his stack, unsure why our food tastes different.

“Cutting the grid allows the syrup and butter to drench all of those hard-to-reach places.”
The way I want you to drench all of my hard-to-reach places.

Stop, Dani!

After closing my eyes to clear my head, I slide my plate over to him and take his half-empty one away. “I have a ton more in the kitchen. Take mine.”

He looks at me like I’m an alien, and then he laughs. “You make me pancakes
and
cut my food into bite-sized pieces.”

Nice, Danielle. Now he sees you as his mom.
#Awesome

“Shut up and eat.”

As he scarfs down three servings of pancakes, we chat about yesterday’s games, transitioning seamlessly from football to basketball and then soccer. In a moment of silence, his brow furrows. “How’s your knee?”

“So much better. All that ice yesterday really helped because it hardly feels swollen now. It didn’t hurt that much when I got up, but I put my brace on anyway.”

“That’s good. We’ll ice it again today.” The way his eyes pass over me makes me squirm, and my eyes drop to my plate.
He clears his throat. “Dani, I’m really glad you’re feeling better. When I saw you on the pavement, I was so afraid your injuries were more serious.”

I get it. This is Jax making sure I’m feeling better. “I’ll be okay,” I say, suddenly interested in my napkin.

“At the very least, I thought you had a concussion. You were so out of it.”

Biting my lip, I mumble, “I hadn’t eaten, so I was probably light-headed.”

He looks up with a sheepish expression. “Is it terrible that I was hoping you wouldn’t remember the whole ordeal?”

Laughing, I shrug. “I think it would take more than a knock on my head to forget that.”

His head tilts slowly, like he’s deep in thought, as he runs a finger along his hairline. “I don’t know. You’d be surprised.”

“You have a few memories you’d like erased?”

“Mm. Maybe one or two.” His eyebrows lift. “Okay, who are we kidding? Probably a boatload.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Concussions suck. I’m glad you don’t have one.”

“Let me guess. You got one while you were torturing your sister. She knocked you over the head with a brick for being a weenie.”

His laughter rings through the apartment, and the sound carves into me the way a rainbow cuts a swath across the sky. “Ha. That would’ve made sense. I probably deserved a good beating from her for all the crap Daren and I pulled. No, I got one this fall, and the headaches suck. I still get them, and it’s been a while.”

I look at him sideways. “When did you get a concussion?” Wouldn’t Clem have said something if her brother had been injured?

He laughs weakly. “My birthday.”

I try to keep my jaw from dropping open.
He was with me on his birthday.
I doubt he would’ve been drinking at a club if it had happened earlier in the day. My heart starts to race.

“What… what happened?” Goosebumps line my skin as I wait for his answer.

He shakes his head like he’s embarrassed. Maybe he got hammered that night after all. “My neighbor got locked out of her condo, and her four-year-old daughter was asleep inside. Hannah left something on the stove and was freaking out, so being the genius that I am, I scaled her balcony but slipped as I was crawling over and hit the grill with my head. Had to get four stitches, a tetanus shot and an MRI. It was a great night.”

“That’s a bummer.” I swallow and try to wrap my head around what he just said. Trying to joke, I say, “Bet the MRI made it memorable.”

“Well, that’s the one reprieve I got. The whole night is a blur, but I’m told I had a great time.”

#HolyShit

That’s what happened! It doesn’t explain why he ran off with that model, but at least I can stop making myself crazy by thinking I was too insignificant to register on this guy’s radar after we hooked up.

“You did,” I whisper. He looks at me, and I realize I said that out loud. “I’m sure you did. You were, what, turning twenty-one?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t forget me because he got drunk.
He got injured!