That Secret Crush Page 8

  She pats my cheek and scoots a few feet away from me. “You’ll survive. Now, come on, have a serious conversation with me.”

  I roll my eyes and lean back against the headboard, letting the comforter fall over my poor erect and untouched penis. “Fine. Conversation and then I get to have you any way I want.” I jab my thumb toward the window. “We’re snowed in, so what better way to pass the time than fucking each other?”

  She pretends to give it some thought. “Well, you do owe me shower sex, so we can start there.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Roberts, but being the gentleman that I am, I’ll acquiesce.”

  “Wow,” she deadpans. “What a hero.”

  Chuckling, I reach out and take her hand in mine. I turn it over and fit our palms together; hers is much slenderer than mine, but the connection is still perfect. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Well, you know, the annoying ‘what does this all mean’ kind of stuff,” she says in a funny nasally voice. “The stuff guys hate.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? We love awkward conversations that take time away from having sex.”

  “I should have known this was going to be torture.”

  “Hey, you knew what you were signing up for the minute you invited me back to your place. This really is on you.” I tug on her arm. “After all these years, you made the first move.”

  “I did not.” Her brow pulls together. “You did.”

  “Uh . . . you were the one inviting me back to your place and taking your clothes off in front of me. Pretty sure my clothes stayed on until I was beckoned into the shower.”

  “You made the first move before that.”

  “When?”

  “Do you not remember the Inn, the dance floor? You were rubbing your body all over mine.”

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “I was dancing, you were the one—”

  “You stuck your hand down my pants and squeezed my ass.”

  I wag my finger at her. “I can see how that could be construed as damning evidence, but I’m pretty sure I saw something fly down there and wanted to make sure it wasn’t a spider or anything.”

  “You’re absurd. You made the first move; there’s no question about that. Want me to call Barb and Marv and get their opinions?”

  “I’d rather you not. I still can’t get rid of the image of those two watching us as we danced.” Fucking creepy shit. “Okay, let’s just call it a mutual first move and get on with this conversation. I want to get between your legs.”

  “Is that how this is going to be—all about sex?”

  “Yes,” I answer, and when she scowls, I add, “Plus all that fun talking shit.” I prop my chin up with my hand and stare at her intently. “Please, let’s gab.”

  She palms my face and pushes me away. “Why did I think I could have a grown-up conversation with you?” She starts to move away, but I quickly pin her to the bed and hover over her.

  “Because you can. Come on, hit me with your worst.”

  “Fine,” she says, succumbing to my strength. “Are we seeing each other now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to see anyone else?”

  “No.” I press a kiss to her nose. It’s cute that she’s worried, but I’m not that kind of man—never have been, never will be.

  “Are you going to take me out on a date?”

  “Do you want me to?” I counter, seeing how serious this is for her.

  “Yes.”

  “Then yes, I’ll take you on all of the dates.”

  “What about Eric?” she asks, worry filling her eyes.

  “What about him?”

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “Well, since I haven’t seen him in years, and he never comes back to Port Snow, I’m going to say no. Not right now, when I’m trying to fuck you every chance I get.”

  “Is that all this is to you? Fucking?”

  With that question, I straighten up and sit back a little. “No. It’s not.”

  “You’re making it seem like it is.”

  “Because you fucking rocked my damn world last night, Eve,” I answer honestly, realizing it as the truth comes pouring out of my mouth. She did: she took me by the balls and flipped my life upside down in the best way possible. And the fact that I can actually be open with her about that is probably even more startling than the revelation itself. I don’t talk emotions, and I sure as hell don’t admit to having them, but Eve somehow pulls them out of me. Enraptured by how beautiful she is, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger on her soft skin. “Last night meant more to me than just fucking my friend—it meant connecting with someone in a way I never have before. You made me feel shit, Eve, and I don’t let myself have feelings. But it felt good. Fuck, it felt so damn good. It’s why I want to sink myself inside of you all over again, because I want that feeling of euphoria to take over me, that feeling of comfort, of belonging. This isn’t just about fucking, at least not for me. This is about starting something new.”

  She stares at me, her mouth slightly ajar, as if I’m a completely different person.

  “Wow,” she finally says. “I knew you were going to make me scream in bed, and I knew you were going to be irresistible, but I had no idea you were going to bowl me over with your words.”

  I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a very good thing.” The smile in her eyes promises some more good things to come.

  Very good things.

  “So then it’s settled. We’re seeing each other, we’re not seeing other people, we’re going out on dates, and we’re creating something—not just fucking.”

  “And we’re not telling my brother or anyone. Just keeping this on the down low for now.”

  “Yeah, no need to get him involved or anyone right now.” Eric hasn’t truly been a part of my life for years. Sure, we shoot each other the odd text messages, but when it comes to my love life . . . yeah, he can fuck off for now.

  “And that’s not going to backfire?” she asks, heavy concern in her voice. “I mean, we do live in a gossipy town where everyone knows everyone. He could find out, and what would he say to that?”

  I think back to all the times he told me to stop checking Eve out, to the times he would punch me in the arm every time I stared at her in a bikini, to the small moments he would catch me just talking to her. He warned me, told me not to mess with her, to stay away because friendship with her should always be my number one priority. He didn’t ever want to lose me as his best friend because I fucked something up with his sister.

  Well, we’re no longer talking—at least not as much—and not because of Eve but because of our own stupidity. I might have told him a long time ago when we were young that I would never go after his sister. But that was then; this is now. I can’t hide the feelings I have for her, and yeah, maybe this will backfire on us, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take when it comes to exploring what Eve and I could have.

  Continuing, she says, “You know how all of those movies and stories go: the brother accidentally finds out and then blows up, the couple breaks up, and heartbreak takes over.”

  “You’ve been watching way too many Lovemark movies.” I laugh her off, holding back the niggling fear that tries to make itself known. Eve doesn’t need to shoulder any more thoughts, secrets, or responsibilities. “No, that won’t be us because when the time comes, we’ll let Eric know. But for now, let’s just get to know this new development in our lives. Deal?”

  I lean over and press my forehead to hers, still in awe that this girl is beneath me, running her hands up and down my back.

  She tilts her chin up and presses a kiss against my hungry lips. “Deal.”

  Reid: Dude, I have to tell you something.

  Brig: Jesus, my mouth is frothing just from reading that text. You know I love juicy gossip. Give it to me.

  Reid: You can’t tell ANYONE.


  Brig: Yeah, sure, lips are sealed. Give Daddy the deets.

  Reid: I’m not fucking kidding. You have to keep this between us.

  Brig: Come on, who would I tell?

  Reid: Literally everyone.

  Brig: I’ve grown up.

  Reid: In the last twenty-four hours?

  Brig: I’ve sprung a new leaf.

  Reid: That makes no sense whatsoever.

  Brig: Why are you fucking with me? Why text if you’re just going to run me through the gauntlet? You either tell me or you don’t. You either trust me or you don’t. I have better things to do than wait around for you to stop dicking me around.

  Reid: You’re right, I’m sorry.

  Brig: Thank you, now tell me your news. My lips are sealed.

  Reid: Eve and I had sex two days ago. Lots and lots of it. And we’re dating now.

  . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  Brig: WHAT????

  Brig: Wait . . . WHAT??? With Eve Roberts? Eric’s twin, Eve? The girl you’ve had a secret crush on ever since I can remember? That Eve?

  Reid: Yeah, that Eve.

  Brig: Call Griff. I’m pretty sure I’m having a heart attack. Paramedics to the garage, stat.

  Reid: Stop being dramatic.

  Reid: Are you there?

  Reid: I’m not calling Griff.

  Reid: Seriously, Brig. What the hell are you doing?

  Four Men and a Witch Text Message Group

  Griffin: So . . . Reid banged Eve.

  Rogan: What? Eve Roberts?

  Reid: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, BRIG!

  Brig: What? **Fans Face** I had no idea. When did this all happen?

  Reid: I told you not to tell anyone. What the fuck, man?

  Rogan: Is anyone else picturing Reid’s face getting super red right now?

  Griffin: Like the Lobster Landing logo. Yeah, I see it.

  Brig: I must have been texting in my sleep again.

  Reid: You’re dead to me.

  Brig: If that’s the case, I might as well tell everyone else.

  Reid: I will murder your penis.

  Griffin: That sounds sexual.

  Rogan: Super kinky. I think Harper said that to me one night.

  Griffin: Ren said the same thing.

  Brig: Did Eve say that to you, Reid before you guys did the nasty? **Said in girly Eve voice** Get over here, big boy. I’m about to murder your penis.

  Rogan: Oh I heard that really well.

  Griffin: I could see Eve saying that.

  Reid: SHE DIDN’T FUCKING SAY THAT.

  Brig: I think she did.

  Griffin: It’s pretty likely that she did.

  Rogan: Scale of one to ten on likeliness, it’s an eleven . . . until he pulled his pants down and she was massively disappointed.

  Reid: Not that it’s any of your business, but her jaw actually hit the floor when she saw my penis.

  Rogan: Because she couldn’t find it, right?

  Reid: Why are you like this?

  Griffin: So you can dish it, but you can’t take it?

  Reid: I think we all know that by now.

  Brig: So tell them, tell them you’re dating.

  Reid: Why do I need to when you do it for me?

  Brig: Fine. **Takes deep breath** The curse is broken! Reid finally matured and poked Eve with his penis. He’s free!

  Reid: You and that GD curse. Let it the fuck go.

  Jen: If you’re going to include me in these texts, can you please refrain from talking about your penises? Unless you want me talking about my vagina after giving birth to children. **Rubs hands** Then game on, boys.

  Reid: I just threw up in my mouth.

  Brig: Flappy vagina talk—NEVER AGAIN!

  Griffin: **Slowly backs away**

  Rogan: Yeah, I have a meeting to run to.

  Jen: My work here is done.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EVE

  “Hello?” I answer in a groggy voice.

  “Hey, sis.”

  I spring out of bed, all thoughts of sleep forgotten. I wipe at my eyes and clear my throat as I check the time on my clock. Six in the morning. Why is Eric calling me at six in the morning?

  For a brief second, a wave of nerves rolls through my stomach at the thought of Eric knowing about Reid and me. Did Reid sticking his hand down my pants on the dance floor somehow get back to Eric? Barb and Marv aren’t the gossiping types, but I would say that’s pretty juicy information for someone to spread on a bored wintery day.

  “Eric, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry about calling so early. I couldn’t sleep.” He pauses. “How are you?”

  Seriously? It’s six in the morning. A how are you question isn’t exactly what I want to be answering right now, not after working a late shift. But I would never say that to Eric—not when things are this uncomfortable between us.

  “Good. You know, just working and finishing up school.”

  “Yeah? How much longer until you graduate?”

  “Last semester. I’m almost done.” As he mulls that over, I obsess over how random this phone call is. It’s completely out of the blue, and I’m nervous to find out what brought it on.

  Reid seemed unfazed at the prospect of not telling Eric about our new development. And it makes sense, since their friendship has dwindled over the past few years. But Eric is still my brother, and a small piece of me feels like he should know.

  And I mean a very small piece of me.

  “Damn, Eve, that’s amazing. I don’t know how you do it all. School, studying, being the manager at the Inn, and practically running the entire operation. Do you have any spare time?”

  Just enough to have a wild affair with your best friend.

  “I find time.” I yawn and try to smother it, but Eric is too quick.

  “Man, I should have waited to call. I’m sorry, but I had to get something off my chest.”

  Oh boy. Here it is. The reason. I brace myself, waiting for him to call me out on hooking up with Reid.

  “Uh, what’s that?” I ask, holding my voice still, trying to hide my nerves.

  “I wanted to apologize.”

  Huh? Wasn’t expecting that.

  “Apologize for what?”

  “For not coming back to Port Snow on Dad’s death anniversary.”

  Oh.

  A wave of emotion hits me all at once. Sadness, appreciation, awkwardness. It’s all there.

  “It’s fine—”

  “It’s not fine, Eve. It’s unacceptable. Ever since we lost Bar 79, I haven’t been the brother you deserve; I’ve dropped the ball on many things, especially when it comes to our parents. I shouldn’t let you be by yourself on those days.”

  “I wasn’t. Reid was with me.”

  Why did I just say that? Maybe because he’s on my brain. Maybe because I feel a little guilty about keeping Eric in the dark. Or maybe because Reid was truly there for me, and I want Eric to know that.

  “Reid was there?” Confusion laces his question. “Wow, that’s really nice of him.”

  “Yeah, well, he knew it was a tough day.” And then we totally did it later that night, but I’ll keep that to myself. “It was nice to have someone to lean on, but I know you were busy. You didn’t need to call to apologize.”

  He’s silent for a few breaths, heightening the tension between us. It didn’t used to be like this; we weren’t always so awkward and clumsy with each other, but a lot of time and space have settled between us, almost too much. I wish he would move back, live out the dream we once shared, but after Bar 79 went under, so did the rest of our plans.

  “I’m still sorry,” he finally says. “Really fucking sorry, Eve.”

  I sigh and close my eyes, hating the pain I hear in his voice. “I know, Eric. I know.”

  I’ve been to Reid’s houseboat a few times. It’s simple. A house on floats, seafoam green on the outside, and two stories tall, with a loft upstairs and a rooftop deck. Refurbished and th
e perfect bachelor pad for a guy who is trying to hide from the world. It’s just another place, and yet a wave of nerves hits me all at once as I step up onto the deck that leads to the entrance. The outside lights illuminate a path where the snow has been knocked away into the harbor, and salt has been dusted over the slick surface, giving me a straight shot to his home, like a shining invitation.

  I make my way to the front door, and before I can knock, the door swings open, revealing Reid standing on the other side, wearing a pair of sweats and a Port Snow, Maine shirt that clings to every contour of his chest. His hair is damp, and there is a light in his eyes I haven’t seen in a long time.

  “Took you long enough—get in here.”

  He pulls me by the hand and slams the door shut before tipping up my chin and kissing me.

  It’s been a week. One week of us “seeing” each other, and every time he goes to kiss me, it’s like he doesn’t even have to think about it. His kisses still startle me—but in the best way.

  When he pulls away, he loops our hands together and walks me farther into his quaint little home. “I’m starving. Sit. Take your shoes off.”

  He ushers me to his two-person dining table, which bears a small bud vase with one fresh daisy flower sticking out of it.

  Oh my God, how cute. That’s when I take the time to glance around the houseboat. It’s different—fresher, more grown up than the last time I saw it, as if he gave it a quick makeover before I came for our date. There are curtains—mind you, they’re plain navy blue, but he still hung some—there are rugs and dish towels. No more posters, and . . . is that a coaster on his coffee table?

  “Did you spruce the place up?” I ask, trying and failing to hide a smile.

  He shrugs. “A little. Didn’t want you to think you were dating someone who doesn’t even know how to hang curtains.” He pulls a pizza box out of his oven.

  “Reid, you adulted your place.”

  “Yeah, so? Don’t make a big deal out of it.” He places two slices of pizza on each plate and then brings them over to the table, where there is also a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses.