And I let myself melt into it.
He was solid. Strong. But also soft somehow, like you could crash into him and not get hurt. The pulse of his neck beat against my cheek. The scent of his skin so near teased me and something warm tingled inside of me at the feel of his body held to mine.
All I could think about was how close his bedroom was. How all I had on under this dress was a thin G-string and an easily removed strapless bra.
I could feel his breath tickle my shoulder. His mouth was right there.
I wondered if he wanted to touch me. If he thought about it too. If he liked the way I smelled, and looked, and felt pressed against him.
Or maybe for him it was exactly what it was supposed to be. Nothing but a platonic arrangement.
Worse.
Maybe when I touched him, he wished I was her.
It was enough to snap me out of it, and I pulled away first.
When I let him go, his hands slid from my back down to my waist and we stood there like that for a fraction of a second. I cleared my throat and took another step. His hands fell away from me.
“Ready?” I asked, my voice a touch too high.
He peered at me, studying my face for a moment. Then he nodded. “Ready.”
Chapter 23
Jacob
Those motherfuckers are always up to something,” Briana said.
We were parked in front of my parents’ house.
I shook my head at her. “No. Give me something else.”
“Nope. That’s it. ‘Those motherfuckers are always up to something.’ That’s the get-out-of-jail catchphrase for the day.”
“I can’t say that,” I said.
“Why not?”
“It’s not how I talk.”
“Jacob, this isn’t supposed to be easy. You have to earn it.”
She gave me a serious look and I couldn’t help but smile. She was so, so beautiful.
“I can’t work the word motherfucker,” I said, lowering my voice on the last word, “into a casual conversation.”
“Why? Jafar does it all the time.”
I snorted.
“This is the phrase. It has to be hard or you’ll just drop it the second you get in there. You have to work for your alone-on-the-stairs-with-the-dog time.” She gave me a playful look.
“All right. But I’m telling you right now, I might not be able to do it.”
“Of course you will. I believe in you, and how badly you want out of social commitments.”
I laughed.
We’d just driven over from my house. She saw it for the first time today. She liked it.
I wanted her to like it.
I’d spent days making sure it was perfect. I’d bought a new duvet cover and a rug for the entryway. I dusted all my plants and bleached the sink. Weeded the garden and organized my books. I wanted her to be impressed.
“Give me a sec to touch up my lipstick,” she said, pulling down the sun visor.
I let my eyes move down her body while she wasn’t paying attention. Her dress was hiked up and I lingered on her thigh for a split second before I forced myself to look away.
When she was in my bedroom, my heart had thudded harder than it ever had in my life. Just her standing there turned me on. I’d had to adjust the front of my pants.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. All of her. All the time. And it got worse every day.
And the hug…
I knew the science behind what I’d felt. That the pressure of her contact was sending signals to my autonomic nervous system, quieting down my fight-or-flight response, oxytocin was being released, creating a feeling of calm and bonding.
But other things had happened too. Things that wouldn’t happen if I’d hugged my sister.
I could still smell her perfume on my shirt. I could still feel where she’d been pressed into my body, and I couldn’t ignore how much I liked it. How beautiful I thought she was today, how nice she smelled. How grateful I was that she was doing this, for whatever reason. And all this strengthened my desire to return the favor that was a favor to my favor. All I wanted to do these last few weeks was to show her how much I appreciated her and valued her friendship. My brain had broken off from worrying about the wedding and all that situation entailed, and it had moved on to how I could look after Briana. A quiet observation of her well-being had grown inside of me the way it did for all the people I cared about. Only not the same.
Not the same at all.
She closed the visor and smacked her lips. “Done.”
“I guess we should get out,” I said.
“Yeah. Are you ready?”
“I’m never ready for a party. I just come to terms with the fact that I have to go inside.”
She laughed.
“Why are they doing it here?” she asked, gathering up her purse. “They couldn’t rent a restaurant or a dining hall or something?”
“Everyone does everything here. Mom likes it. It’s her way of always having us around.”
“Huh. That’s smart, I guess. They’re not getting married here, are they?”
“No. I think some hotel on the North Shore.”
Lieutenant Dan made an impatient whining noise from the back seat. He wanted to see Mom.
I sighed. “All right. Come on. Let’s go.”
When we got inside, the house was empty. The party was a luau-themed pig roast at the pool. Everyone was out back. We went through the living room to the sliding glass doors off the upper deck, and we could see everyone through the window. I let Lieutenant Dan out to go find Mom, but Briana and I stopped there to look.
My whole family was outside, along with Amy’s parents and her sister. A few of my cousins milled around by the pool with Mom’s best friend, Dorothy. Amy’s best friend, Shannon, and her college roommate were over by the bar. A few coworkers and Amy and Jeremiah’s friends sat at the tables. There were tiki torches lit and lights strung over the yard. Mom had hired a bartender, and drinks in pineapples and coconuts were floating about. The twins were running between tables and Grandpa was driving so fast in his wheelchair through the crowd people had to jump out of the way.
Amy stood in the middle of the throng with Jeremiah petting Lieutenant Dan. My brother was in a red Hawaiian shirt, telling some animated story, and Amy wore a white cocktail dress with a lei around her neck, laughing at whatever he was saying.
This was only the second time I’d ever seen them together as a couple. Once at the bar when they broke the wedding news, and now. But this time was different. It didn’t sting the way it did last time. Actually it didn’t feel like anything at all.
No. It felt like relief—because that could have been me down there, at my own engagement party with her. And that would have been the biggest mistake of my life.
I was glad it was over between us.
I think this was the first moment that I actually felt this way. I was glad it was over.