Page 77 of Summer Heat
“How could I forget?” he asked, and she saw that night in his eyes.
Oreo had been half-starved and incredibly skittish. Chris had wanted her to leave. Call animal control if you’re worried, he’d said, and probably that would have been the smart thing to do. But she didn’t know how long it would be until they came or if the dog would still be around. So she’d lured the dog into the backseat.
“I had these protein bars in the trunk. They didn’t even taste good, but he went crazy for them. Got him inside the car because he knew there was more where that came from.”
“And I’ll be eternally grateful you did that.” Ethan’s lips lifted in a wry smile, almost shy. “But then, that’s you. Always looking out for someone else.”
She shook her head. Not that time. The apartment she shared with Chris didn’t accept animals, and he hadn’t been interested in having a pet, so the dog had gone to Ethan. It was Ethan who took him to the vet. Ethan who fed him tacos and half-pound burgers until he’d reached a normal weight.
You both wanted the same things. Once upon a time, she’d thought so too. But this was what she valued—Oreo and meat-only tacos. And a man who wouldn’t give up on a dog when everybody else did.
The mood grew solemn. As if he read the direction of her thoughts, his eyes grew curious. “Why, Lia?”
At least he hadn’t called her Rosalia again. The only person who called her that was her aunt. And her mother when she called on major holidays. And Ethan, apparently, when he wanted to pretend they weren’t close friends. “Chris and I… we care about each other, but not like we should. We were together out of habit. You were part of that habit, like the glue that held us together. When Chris started focusing on his internship, when we felt you starting to pull away, there was nothing left holding us together.”
He winced. “I never should have come back that night.”
Images flashed through her mind. Ethan, walking into their apartment, the shock on his face. And before that, at the apartment door, Chris, looking
surprised and… smug? Ethan’s eyes widening in the moments that she climaxed, his fingers easing her through her orgasm.
“I know I acted like a jerk that night, but walking in on you… seeing you…” He looked more uncertain than she’d ever seen him.
She felt herself soften. “It was a weird night. For all of us.”
How could she explain to him how she’d felt, when she barely understood it? Guilty, as if he’d caught her doing something she shouldn’t have done. She and Ethan had spent hours together, talking, laughing, even when Chris wasn’t home. She’d never done a single sexual thing with Ethan, but when he’d opened that door and found them naked…she’d felt like she was cheating on him.
He shook his head, looking genuinely miserable. “But then it happened, and I knew I needed to leave. That was the best thing I could do for you. Leave.”
Her heart broke a little at that. “You were my best friend.”
Even if that had been wrong, to be best friends with him while she was with Chris.
“I wasn’t trying to break you guys up,” he said, jaw clenched. “I acted like a jackass, but I never would have done that on purpose.”
“You aren’t responsible for us, Ethan. You couldn’t break us up or keep us together. Only we could do that.”
He fiddled with his empty foil wrapper. His gaze met hers, wary and kind. “I thought you were happy there. With him. I wanted you to stay happy.”
A sense of relief unfurled inside her. She had known breaking up with Chris was the right decision. But coming here, seeking Ethan out, that had felt like jumping off a cliff.
Those earnest words, the longing in his eyes—they were her net.
She leaned forward at the same time he did. They held that way, her lips inches from his, warm air forming a cocoon. Like breathing against the glass and watching it fog up. Her mind had clouded, blocking out any thoughts of defenses. She had no way to protect herself from the soft press of his lips or the ache it inspired in her. There were no walls left standing when he kissed her more firmly. She crumbled into pieces—into the lips that fused to his and the hand that held his arm and the toes that curled in her boots.
His hand slipped behind her neck and pulled her closer. Just that one touch, and she felt his presence surround her. He enveloped her like a mist and she breathed him in. Her whole body arched into him. Her breasts brushed his arm through her sweater. Maybe it was strange that he’d rubbed her off before they’d kissed, but it made this part easier. Her body was already primed for him. It knew what to expect—pleasure—and she rubbed against him in hope and expectation.
He groaned into her mouth, hot and desperate. “Lia. Lia.”
Before she could answer, his hands were on her hips, moving her, shifting her. He tucked one of her legs over his so that she straddled him, her core against his. Even through all that thick denim, she could feel his erection pulse, and she clenched in response.
“Oh God,” she whispered. How had they gotten here so fast?
How had it taken them so long?
“So good. You feel so fucking good.” He laughed unsteadily, and she knew he understood the impossibility of them. The inevitability. They had always been leading toward this, always been reaching for this without knowing it.
“Touch me,” she said on a breath, and he did. He obeyed her words, but he turned the tables, commanding her with his firm hands and warm breath. Hands around my neck, he said without words, and she curled herself around him, tangling her fingers in his soft, short hair. Rock against me, he said, and she moved her hips in time with his.
