Trouble, p.20
Trouble, page 20
“When did you know it?” he asks.
I smile sadly. “As soon as I looked at you.”
This pleases him. I can tell. He runs a hand over his mouth as he paces a small circle in my room. I give him the space to work things out in his head. I’ve had time to think about this, to work it out in my head. I’m sure he needs time to process it too.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he stops.
“Why did you leave?” he asks. “Why did you give me a fake name?”
I take a deep breath, my room suddenly too small.
“I left because my mother summoned me. She called crying the next morning, saying she couldn’t get through my father’s affair without me being home. And I have to say, I really thought she might be serious, and I was thrilled she wanted me around.” I throw my shoulders back. “But she didn’t. She just wanted me to tell her attorney that I’d met my father’s mistress to help her case.”
“What a bitch. Pardon my language.”
“It’s the reason I didn’t tell you my name. I could’ve said I was Avery, I guess, but I didn’t know if you knew that Harper was my mom’s sister, and I just wanted to not be me for a night. For one night, I just wanted to be anonymous. Angry. Pissed off at the world. I wanted someone to like me without knowing I was Jasmine Perry’s daughter.”
His body stills. “I’d have liked you regardless of whose daughter you were.”
I smile at him. “But you know what I mean, right? You felt like people judged you because of your family. That’s what I was afraid of. I just wanted complete anonymity to feel whatever I wanted to.”
He picks at a tiny hole in the thigh of his jeans. “I can understand that.” His gaze flips up to mine. “That’s the night I put my dad in jail.”
I blink once. Twice. My heart crushes against my ribs as I watch an unnamed emotion pass through his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I whisper.
“Because I didn’t want you to know that’s the kind of family I was from. So like I said, I can understand that.”
He goes back to fiddling with the hole in his jeans.
I stand in front of him. Reaching out, I take his face in my hands and lift his chin. I look him right in the eye so he doesn’t miss a word I say.
“I would’ve liked you no matter what family you were from too,” I tell him.
He takes a breath and lets that settle over him. Finally, he grins. “Thanks.”
I release him and back away.
As if a piece of my life has been snapped into place, I feel a serenity like never before. And as I watch Penn watch me, I realize there’s a peace between us, too, in a way I couldn’t have imagined.
“Abby made such an impression on me,” he says cheekily, “that I got a tattoo for her.”
“The dice?”
He nods. “She was the only person that I felt like didn’t judge me, make excuses for me, or blow me off.”
I grin. “I think I kind of did blow you off that night, if you catch my drift.”
He laughs, his dimple setting deep in his cheek.
I take his hand and pull him to my bed. We sit together quietly, our hands locked together with an intensity that I’m not sure either of us means to happen but neither of us pulls away from. Having him here like this is the most intimate moment I’ve ever had with a man, because we’re sharing something that matters. We’re choosing to participate in this, even though it isn’t easy. Even though it kind of hurts a bit. Even though it could change everything.
“I was embarrassed that you didn’t recognize me at first,” I say softly. “And then, once I didn’t say anything, it was kind of hard to just bring it up. I was stuck and I didn’t know what to do, but I was going to tell you today.”
He shakes his head. “I was just shocked. I’ve thought about that emo girl named Abby over the years, wondering what happened to her. I’d almost convinced myself that I made her up as a coping mechanism or something.” He blushes. “I saw that on a television show once.”
I laugh. “I was real. Abby was real.” I think back to what I must’ve looked like that night with my black hair and bloodred lips. “That was not my best stage of life.”
He shrugs. “I thought she was pretty bangin’.”
“Did you?” I prod.
“Almost as hot as she is now.” He squeezes my hand before letting it go. “I should hate you,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because before you came to town, I had my balls. Now, I’m talking about my feelings, giving a fuck about how you feel, and I haven’t gotten laid. At all. I don’t even know me anymore.”
I bump him with my shoulder. “Yeah, but you’re the new and improved Penn Etling now.”
“I was pretty damn perfect before.”
“You’re welcome to go back to it,” I tell him. Even as the words slip by my lips, I inwardly cringe.
He might take me up on it. I might die if he does.
He bites his lip and looks at the ceiling like he’s considering it. The longer he goes, the more worried about it I become.
“Nah,” he says. “It was getting pretty tiresome to be me with my phone ringing all the time and the girls just all over my cock. I needed a break from it.”
“Oh, geez.”
He shrugs. We sit quietly for a while, the only sound coming from Harper’s television show.
As I study his handsome face, I realize that this is the realest I’ve ever been with another person. The vulnerability I feel exceeds anything else at the moment. There’s no shield, no plan to prevent myself from getting hurt by Penn. There’s only trust that he wouldn’t do anything to wound me.
It’s a revelation that sparks something inside me. I’ve given my time and energy to men who didn’t try half as much as Penn. And even though I want more, and I do, maybe something could work out between us.
Just as I’m trying to formulate how to start a conversation to see how he feels, he stands up.
“Come on,” he says abruptly.
“Come on, what?”
He snorts. “Can you please think about what you say before you say it?”
Come on what. I hit him.
“Where are we going?” I say politely.
He grins. “We’re taking a road trip.”
“And where are we taking a road trip to?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?” he asks. “Just put some shoes on, or don’t, and let’s go.”
I put my hands on my hips. “And why should I trust you?”
“It’s a little late for that. We’re on the ‘talking about feelings’ level. There should be some trust there. But if you ever bring this up in public, I’ll deny it like a motherfucker.”
I can’t hide my laughter. “Deal. Now, back to where we are going: Can I wear what I have on?” I ask.
“Do you think I care what you wear?” He holds out his hands. “I mean, if I had my choice, you’d wear nothing, but I’m going out on a limb and guessing you won’t go for that.”
The smile he gives me dissolves me on the spot.
He’s back.
“Fine. Let’s go,” I say.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and leans his head against mine. I think he might kiss the top of my head, but I’m not sure.
What I am sure of is that this was way easier getting into than it will be getting out of.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AVERY
Oh, wow.” The words escape my lips before I even realize I’m saying them.
The sight before me, even without Penn in it, is spectacular. The deep-blue waters of Dogwood Lake ripple in the fading sunlight.
Everything feels amplified out here. The greens are more vivid, the birds happier, and the air a little sweeter than anywhere I’ve ever been. It’s just like I remembered but . . . more.
“What do you think?” Penn asks. He holds his hands out to his sides like he’s showing off the little area nestled out into the middle of the forest. “Ring a bell?”
“Of course it does.”
I turn in a circle. The tree canopy overhead is thick and lush. The large oak tree we lay under that night is still there, minus the ants. I laugh.
“What?” he asks.
I point at the tree. “Do you remember the ants?”
“Fuck yes,” he admits. “I came out here with a can of ant killer the next day. That’s against my usual code of conduct, but I had welts everywhere for two weeks.”
“Those were fun to explain to my mom.”
He laughs. “I bet. What did you say? That a stud you met in the woods fucked you on a . . . what was it? A jacket?”
“That’s not what I said, and yes, it was a jacket.”
I walk to the water’s edge and gaze across the lake. It’s so peaceful with just the occasional fish or bird breaking the surface. On the other side is a giant hill that’s covered in trees and looks like it reaches the sky.
“How did you find me down here that night?” he asks.
“Honestly? By accident.” I climb back up the little slope from the water and stand next to Penn. “I’d left Harper’s to get some fresh air. I got to crying so hard I couldn’t see, so I pulled over up on the road. And I heard your voice and took a chance.”
“I could’ve been a serial killer.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t.”
“Yeah, but I could’ve been.”
We exchange a grin.
He puts his arm over my shoulder and pulls me into his side. I fall into him, my head leaning against his chest. It feels like the most natural thing I’ve ever done.
My arm snakes around his waist. I can feel the muscles in his lower back flex as he moves. It’s sexier than any smile or any touch or any act I’ve ever seen because it’s unintentional. Just a strong man letting a woman rest against him. And maybe, a strong woman letting a man rest against her.
“I feel like most people probably label things that feel like this,” he says roughly.
The hesitation in his tone is obvious and one I can’t deny. It’s something I can’t say I don’t share as well.
This is all new. Really, really new. And even though it feels like I’ve known him for a lifetime, I haven’t.
I have to trust myself enough to know what’s right for me, and I have to trust him enough to know he wouldn’t hurt me.
And I don’t think he will. But do I ask him?
“I’m not totally sure where you’re going with that,” I say cautiously.
“Where do you want me to be going with that?”
I consider this. “I don’t know. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”
“I . . .” He gulps as his fingers play with the hem of my shirt. “I think we’re really good friends. And that’s a good thing. So, maybe, you know, we could try something else.” He looks at me, his eyes shining. “I’d like to see what happens.”
My heart starts to beat frantically. Of course this is what I want. I know it as soon as he says the words. But the logical part of my brain warns me to take it easy because a tiger’s stripes don’t change overnight.
“I’ve seen enough . . . friendships to know that what you call them doesn’t matter,” he says. “I know a lot of people that label a woman a girlfriend or wife, but they don’t act any different than before. It’s like sticking a piece of paper on a grain of rice and calling it a meal.”
I laugh. “Nice analogy.”
“It might not work, but you know what I mean.”
He strokes the top of my arm with his fingertips so lightly that I wonder if he realizes he’s doing it. I lean into his touch. The rough pads of his fingers send shocks through my body with every brush against my skin.
He spins me around slowly so I’m facing him. My breath halts in my chest.
The look in his eyes is intense, but tender—raw, like he’s waited on this exact moment for so long that he’s having a hard time holding himself back.
My body tightens as a shiver rips through my body.
He holds my gaze with a slight crook of his brow. It’s like he’s warning me about what’s to come and is giving me an out.
Not a chance, buddy.
He seems to read my mind, because a wicked grin slips across his face. He widens his hips so I’m standing between his legs and looks down at me with hooded eyes.
“Now, before this goes any further,” he says, “I’m going to be fucked up about this after. I don’t know how, exactly, but I’m absolutely sure things won’t be the same way they are right now. If you have any reservations, tell me. We’ll get in the truck and go home.”
His usual confidence is marred by a streak of nervousness. I don’t want him to be nervous. I want him to be Penn in every way.
There’s only one thing I know to do.
“I actually have one thing,” I say.
His brows pull together. “Really?”
“Yes.” I keep my face completely straight. “What if you don’t deliver eight inches? I mean, you’ve basically promised me that, and I’m not sure how I’ll feel if I’m disappointed.”
He bursts out laughing. “You little shit.” He cups my face in his large hands. “You always make me smile.”
“Well,” I whisper, angling my body toward his, “if you’d stop talking, I could make you really, really smile.”
“Damn you,” he groans.
His mouth dips to mine. Our lips touch, and I swear fireworks tear through my veins.
His hands drop to my throat, then to my shoulders and down my arms. They course roughly down my back until he’s gripping my ass and hauling me into his chest.
The years since we were here last, on top of all the kisses and almost-kisses of the last few days, add up to this moment. His lips devour me—my mouth, my tongue, my jawline. It’s like he can’t get enough.
I can’t get enough.
I moan as he kisses the side of my neck, his fingers finding the edge of my shirt. He lifts it up and over my head, tossing it somewhere near the oak tree. I feel the clasp of my bra release. He steps back far enough to remove it.
The air kisses my nipples right before he does. He licks one, then the other before swirling it with his tongue. He palms the other, taking the pebble in between his fingers and sending shocks of desire through my body. I press him against me by the back of his head.
He nibbles and kisses a path back to my lips and presses a final kiss to my cheek. “You are so fucking beautiful. Do you know that?”
I stand in front of him, shirtless, my imperfections bare for him to see. All he has to say is that I’m beautiful?
I’ve never been called beautiful by anyone. My knees go weak as he watches me like I’m a piece of artwork he’s always wanted to see.
“I’m the luckiest fucker alive,” he says quietly.
Emboldened by his reaction, I remove my shorts. Facing away from him so he can see the black thong parting my ass cheeks, I hook my fingers at the waist.
“Damn, Ave.”
His tone is rocky. How much he wants me is evident in the words, and I wonder how hard he is right now.
I gulp.
Dragging the thin piece of fabric over my hips, I don’t give the first thought to the bow of my legs or the cellulite on my ass. It would be impossible to consider anything negative when Penn Etling is looking at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.
My heart pounding in my chest, I step out of my panties. I hold them up by one finger as I turn around.
His eyes are wide as he watches me with rapt attention. His shirt is gone now. The sight of his body is enough to make me forget what I was doing.
Defined abs that aren’t cut too hard rock his center. Sex lines, where his obliques meet his lower abs, point to a bulge in his pants. His shoulders are thick and solid, and I want to run my fingers along them and feel his strength.
In one quick move I don’t see coming, he grabs ahold of me.
His lips find mine again, his mouth hot and hungry. As his tongue works me over, I unbutton his pants and shove them down. He breaks the kiss just long enough to get them off and out of the way.
“How,” he says, kissing me. “Do.” He kisses my throat. “You.” His tongue traces a line to beneath my ear, where he plants another kiss. “Want this,” he whispers before nibbling my earlobe.
I squeal as his teeth get the lobe a little too hard. His laugh against my throat reverberates through my body. The chords assimilate in my groin, making me even wetter.
He picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he kisses me again. This time, there’s no rush as he lazily moves his mouth over mine.
My fingers run through his hair, my breasts pressed against his chest as he carries me toward the path. He kicks at something before he drops to his knees.
The kiss is broken as he lays me on my back on my clothes. I peer up at him as he kneels between my legs.
“Stay put,” he says.
I nod.
Without breaking eye contact, he gets to his feet and slips his boxer briefs off.
I gasp.
Holy fucking shit.
I wouldn’t have staked my life on the fact that I could give you an exact measurement of eight inches. But he’s close enough.
He grins as he searches through his pants pockets, then pulls a condom from his wallet.
“You are the slowest man at this ever,” I complain.
“I’m not sorry. I have the best view of any man ever.”
“You could’ve been more prepared.”
He snorts. “Yeah, like you were a given or something. You’re lucky I have a condom at all.”
I watch him roll the protection down his shaft as he walks to me. He drops to his knees again and grips my hips with both hands. The spots where his fingers press into my skin burn.
He gives me a smile so soft it’s almost shy. It pings something deep inside my heart.
Bending down, he places a kiss on my chest. I close my eyes as I absorb the moment. It catches me off guard because tenderness isn’t what I expected.
But damn it if it doesn’t feel perfect.
My hips are lifted. The head of his dick spreads me open. His eyes snatch mine out of the air.
I hold my breath as he slides the tip around, getting it wet and making me ready to lose my damn mind.
