“I’m proud of you for getting into Stanford.” He changed the subject, throwing me off. “Are you excited?” he asked.
I nodded, giving him a tight smile. “Yeah, I am. It’ll be a lot of work, but I thrive on it, so . . .” I trailed off, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I did want to go to California. And I definitely wanted to go to medical school. But I didn’t want to think about how things were changing forever back here. My dad’s marriage. The house going on the market. Having Jared close, but not having Jared.
He stopped painting and looked at me pointedly. “What’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem,” I retorted.
He approached me, cocking his head like he knew I was lying. Like he knew I still wasn’t happy.
I lifted my shoulders to my ears, denying it. “I said there’s no problem!” I laughed and then looked down. “And you’re dripping all over my feet!”
I curled in my toes as paint from his brush fell onto my skin.
“Oh, shit,” he said in surprise and lifted the brush up, smacking me in the face.
I growled, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Oh, shit!” Jared blurted out again, laughing. “I’m sorry. It honestly was an accident.”
“Yeah.” I opened my eyes again, squinting through the paint covering my lashes on my left eye. “Accidents happen.”
And then I shot out, running my paintbrush down his face and chest, sending him rearing backward.
“No!” he shouted, holding out his hands and still laughing. “Stop!”
I lunged for him again, and he darted out his paint brush, wetting my arm.
I scowled. “Ugh!” I barked. “You’re going to pay for that!”
And I raced after him as he dashed into the foyer. Reaching out my arm, I caught him on the back, swiping my brush up and making the tree tattooed there look a little snow covered.
He swung around and grabbed my wrist, pulling my back into his chest.
I squirmed, sending his brush falling to the area rug.
“Let go!” he ordered, tickling my sides. “Drop it now!”
“No!” I laughed, keeping my elbows locked at my sides to shield myself from his attack.
He grabbed my wrist, pulled it up, exposing my underarm, and tickled. I hunched over, crying out in a mix of terror and delight as my own paintbrush fell to the floor.
“Jared! Stop!” I shouted, my stomach tight with laughing so hard.
He let go, wrapping both of his arms around my waist, and we just stood there, breathing hard as we tried to calm down.
It felt so good. Having fun with him again.
I laid my arms on his, my breath catching in my throat but my heart still racing as I soaked in his heat at my back. My tank top was the only fabric separating his skin from mine, and without thinking, I turned my head, nuzzling into him.
His hot breath fell on my ear, and I leaned into it, feeling the clenching of the muscles in my womb and wanting his touch.
It had been so long since I’d been touched like this. The feel of Jared’s lips against my hair was more intimate than the most sexual act anyone else could do to me.
I tipped my chin up, teasing him with my lips as they grazed his. A thrill shot through me, sending flutters through my stomach as I felt him grow hard against my ass.
I inhaled his scent. “Jared,” I barely whispered. I darted out my tongue and flicked it along his top lip.
He jerked, sucking in a breath, and I felt a shot of pride at still being able to leave him speechless.
Craning one hand around my face to hold my mouth close to his, he teased, “I thought we were going to be friends.” And then I gasped as he brought his other hand over my shoulder and slid it down the top of my shirt, claiming my breast in his palm.
I closed my eyes on a moan. “Good friends,” I clarified. “Really good friends.” And I felt his lips curl into a smile against mine.
“Tate!”
A knock sounded on the door, and I jumped, blinking.
What?
No.
“Tate, you up?” Fallon said, and I looked at Jared, feeling my body suddenly go cold. Damn it.
The ache where I needed him made me groan, and I watched him blink long and hard, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Fuck,” he seethed, letting me go.
I could still feel him through his pants, standing strong and hard, and it was for me. Goddamn it, Fallon!
She opened the door, and we both straightened, knowing how guilty we looked. I was sure I had a blush all over my body. I could feel the heat of my skin.
“Oh.” She stopped short, her forehead scrunching up. “Hey.”
I shifted my eyes, smoothing down my clothes. “We were painting.”
Jared snorted behind me, but I ignored him.
Fallon nodded. “In your jammies,” she said more to herself than to us. “Perfectly normal.”
I arched a brow at her as she stood there in her workout shorts and tank. We ran on Sundays, and I was late.
“Jared?” I cleared my throat, unable to hide the amusement from my face as I turned around. “Go home.”
He shot me his little know-it-all smirk, and I jerked when he brushed his palm over my ass and then walked past me, out the front door. Leaning down, he gave Fallon a peck on the forehead. “Your timing sucks,” he grumbled and walked past her.
Chapter 11
Tate
My friends each brought something different into my life.
Juliet believed that love conquered all and everyone deserved a white-picket-fence life. Fallon believed that choices came with confusion, and if we truly knew what we wanted, then there was no choice. Jax believed opportunities shouldn’t be wasted, and the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward.
And Madoc was like me. He was the one I listened to when I wanted to hear my own opinion in a deeper voice.
And the best part about him was that I was a separate entity from Jared to him. He cared about my well-being, even if it didn’t serve the interest of his friend.
Sorry about your party, I texted him after I got back from my run with Fallon. I’d produced enough drama over the past two years, and I always felt like I wasn’t carrying my weight as a friend. Madoc never cared, though.
Madoc: Nothing to be sorry for. You okay?
I grabbed an apple and jogged up the stairs, desperate for a shower, as my clothes were sticking to my skin.
Yes, I typed. I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.
Madoc: You need to talk to Ben.
I halted, dropping my head back and sighing. Jesus. It was like he could read my mind.
I tapped my thumbs on the keys, sending my reply. I don’t even know what’s happening yet, okay?
Madoc shot back. Yes, you do.
I rolled my eyes, kicking off my shoes and hitting the power on my iPod dock, hearing “The Boys of Summer” by the Ataris spring forth.
My phone beeped again. Okay, screw Jared. Answer me this . . . do you think about Ben?
I plopped my phone down on the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t ignoring his question. He just didn’t need to hear the answer.
Sure, I thought about Ben. I didn’t think about him like I thought about Jared, though, and that’s what had me a little ashamed.
Ben and I hadn’t committed to seeing only each other, and we hadn’t gotten intimate yet. But I knew he wanted that. Hell, he’d wanted it in high school.
But we were dating, and if Fallon hadn’t walked in this morning, I would’ve gone over the edge with Jared, despite any obligation I might have to Ben.
My phone beeped with another text, and I looked down, almost kicking myself that I’d texted Madoc at all this morning.
Do you want him, need him, and live for him? Madoc asked.
I shook my head, smiling at my friend’s insight. Yeah, okay. So whether or not Jared was a factor, I still wasn’t getting carried away and feeling all lovey-dovey about Ben. Point taken.
Does he make you horny? Madoc continued, and I snatched up my phone again.