“If you were my girl, I’d definitely kiss you any chance I got,” he whispers, dipping closer.
“Try to kiss me now,” I murmur, my lips nearly brushing his. “And I will bite you.”
A huff of laughter brushes over my skin. “Oh, Chester, you really shouldn’t dare me.”
I lift my lids and our gazes clash. He hasn’t moved away. The heat in his eyes makes my thighs tight. For a mindless second I want to taunt him, really dare him to do it. Kiss me. Make me forget my name.
But then his mom’s voice slices through the thick air between us.
“Finn,” she calls from the hall. “Hurry up! Glenn is here!”
Finn doesn’t move, but his grimace is swift and pained. Slowly he straightens, holding my gaze the entire time. “I’m beginning to think that woman has some sort of sixth sense.” With a wry twist of his lips, he takes a step back. “Come on then, you heard the woman. Glenn is here!”
I should be grateful for his mother’s impeccable sense of timing. But I’m not. I glance back at the bed as we leave the room. She won’t be around at night. And I really don’t have much faith in my will power anymore.
* * *
Finn
* * *
Awkward is a grown man hobbling out of his childhood bedroom, trying to tuck away his hard-on so he can face his family without causing anyone mental trauma.
And while part of me wants Chess to see the effect she has on me, I’ve pushed her enough already. I’m fairly certain Chess would have no compunction about kneeing me in my tender balls and taking the next flight home.
I haven’t been doing a good job of keeping away from her. I know this. I’ve told myself this more times than I care to count. Problem is, I want her with a ferocity that aches low in my gut, and I find myself reaching for her without thought, only to restrain myself at the last second. Because she is not mine.
My body insists otherwise and is fairly pissy with me at present. Aching dick, bruised heart, twitchy hands, I’m an undisciplined wreck.
And then I had to go haul Chess off to my room. A stupid play. I have no idea how I’m going to keep my hands off her when we’re stuck sleeping in together in that small ass bed. Jesus, I haven’t been this torqued for release since the seventh grade, when I caught sight of Angel Ramirez’s boobs in gym class.
Pathetic.
“What did you say?” Chess peers up at me with suspicious green eyes.
“Nothing.” I open a pair of French doors and lead her out to the patio.
Seated at a grouping of rattan chairs is my brother and his wife Emily. They both stand and I notice the small swell of Emily’s belly. I take a hard step, the ground meeting my foot too soon, and my stride falters.
Because she’s right beside me, Chess bumps into my shoulder. But then I feel her hand slip into mine, her grasp secure and firm, and I know she’s seen Emily too, that she understands exactly. A lump rises in my throat and I swallow it down hard.
I squeeze her hand in return and then ease my hold as if I’m merely a guy leading his girl out to meet his family.
Glenn meets me halfway. My brother is five years older than me. Though he is two inches shorter, with blond hair instead of brown, and thicker about the waist—because he doesn’t have a job that requires him to work out until he drops—we still look a lot alike.
Glenn was a running back in college, but didn’t make it to pros. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still strong as an ox. He nearly knocks the air out of me as we hug, thumping my back hard enough that I cough.
“Good to see you, man,” he says, stepping back, his gaze darting to Chess.
I make the introductions, give Emily the standard hello kiss and ask how she’s doing with her pregnancy. Yes, I knew. I just hadn’t seen the visual proof until now. Soon enough Chess and I are tucked together on a love-seat, as my family not subtly grills us for information.
“So,” my mom says, margarita in hand. “How did you two meet?”
“I took nude photos of Finn,” Chess says before biting into a tortilla chip, loaded with guacamole.
Mom chokes on her drink, as Glenn laughs, and my dad bites back a smile.
Chess pauses, mouth filled with chip, and her creamy skin goes brilliantly pink. “Shit,” she mumbles around her food, as I start to laugh. “I didn’t mean…”
“It was for a charity calendar photoshoot,” I tell them, taking pity on Chess. “Chess is a professional photographer.”
Weakly she nods as she takes a bracing sip of her drink.
“Finn must have made a good impression,” Emily teases with a wink.
“Jesus, Em,” Glenn blurts out, still laughing.
“What? All I’m saying is that a girl can get a little sidetracked seeing a naked guy.”
“Oh, he wasn’t the only one nude,” Chess assures, then catches herself again, grimacing. “I mean, I saw a lot of other dicks—Shit.”
My father loses it, and starts chuckling in that low, wheezing way of his.
“Fucking hell,” Chess mutters, now tomato red. The cuss words seem to make her even more mortified, and she buries her face into the crook of my shoulder. “Let me die now.”
My heart gives a weird sort of lurch at her unexpected turn to me for comfort and protection, and I wrap my arm around her slim torso, snuggling her close. “Maybe have a few drinks before you speak again,” I tease, pressing my lips to her hair. “You know, to loosen your tongue up.”
Her small fist punches my abs. “Shut up,” she says into my shoulder, her breath heating my shirt.
Because she’s my girl here in this moment, I grab her fist, press it to my heart, and then kiss the top of her head. I don’t even notice my family is gaping at me until I lift my head.
The look on my mom’s face is so relieved she’s almost weepy with it, and it sends an uncomfortable prickle of guilt down my neck. That look tells me she’ll no longer worry that I’m lonely, but it’s too hopeful. She glances at Emily, and her happy smile grows.
She’s finally getting her grandbaby.