Yet, no one had ever said something like what had just come out of Jonah’s mouth. Not a single one of those people who loved me, and who I loved right back.
And wasn’t that fucking something?
But my big fucking mouth went crazy on me as my brain struggled and I found myself asking, “One of?”
Jonah’s smile was tender. “Yeah. My nan is pretty amazing too.”
It made my chest go tight, it made my nose sting, and it forced me up to my feet and around my desk, ignoring the curious expression on his face. It made me bend over in front of this man who I’d had a child with and hug him. My forehead went into the warm side of his neck, slightly damp with the sweat of the workout he had probably just finished, my arms loose around his neck and shoulders.
And I responded the only way I could manage. “Thanks, Jonah.”
Words weren’t what replied to me. It was a forearm around the middle of my back. It was a hand cradling the back of my head, holding it gently like it was precious or something instead of hard as hell. It was the great big breath that made his chest puff closer to my own.
A big hand palmed my head. “Come here,” he said to me.
Most special of all was the way he turned me—or I guess, I let him turn me—to the side and then inward, my arms not going anywhere. They stayed exactly where they were around his neck, my forehead staying in the same exact place because it liked it there and didn’t want to go someplace else. And before I really thought about anything other than how warm he was, how much I liked the scent of a man who was a mix of salty, clean sweat and a deep-scented deodorant, I was on his lap.
I was sitting on his thigh. Again.
My butt was high on his lap, one of his arms loose around my back and the other on my hip. And I didn’t make a joke about being too heavy for him. I didn’t make a joke about how we weren’t in high school anymore and people didn’t sit like this. I just sat there, on this man who I knew could handle my weight and, apparently, maybe even all the other little sharp pieces too.
I had sat on my friends’ thighs before but not like this. Not even close. Not by a mile.
So when the office phone rang, I didn’t answer it. I was too busy listening to the measured breaths that came out of him. And when my office phone stopped ringing and started up again, I still didn’t pry myself away.
I soaked in that nice smell of him deep into my senses… the steadiness and sturdiness of his body…
And that was when my cell phone rang.
Five years ago… three years ago… I would have let it keep ringing. But I had Mo now and that changed everything.
The thing was, Jonah must have thought the same thing, because he leaned forward, the heavy arm around my back keeping me in place, and grabbed it off the counter, handing it over.
“MAIO HOUSE” was across the screen.
I answered, my voice more hoarse than normal, at least to my own ears, “Hello?”
“Lenny,” Bianca’s whisper came over the line. “I tried calling you on your office line.”
I sat up straight, leaving the warmth of Jonah’s wide chest. “Everything okay?”
“Um, this guy just walked in without scanning his pass. I’ve never seen him before, but one of the girls just said he used to train at the old Maio House.”
I groaned. I hated it when old members just randomly showed up. Well, it depended on the person and why. Most of the time they were just around to come and kill time and distract people even though they didn’t train here anymore.
“What do you want me to do?”
Bianca was five foot two and had the kind of petite body most women would never cry over. She was literally one of the least intimidating people I knew. She was friendly, I had never seen her in a bad mood, and worked hard. And she seemed to me to be all marshmallow fluff on the inside. Basically: Bianca was the last person I would ever expect to tell someone to get the fuck out, and she wasn’t paid enough to do that either. I would never ask it of her, period.
“Give me a second, and I’ll go over there and deal with it. Just keep an eye on him,” I told her. “Thanks for telling me.”
She hung up after thanking me, and with a sigh, I slid off the thigh under me, stood up, and turned to smile down at Jonah.
But he was already beating me to it.
Lord, I loved this man.
My insides froze as I processed that thought.
I flipped it one way and the other and let it settle right under my throat.
I did love this dumbass, didn’t I?
The surprising part was, it wasn’t a horrifying thought or even close to it. I looked at this grinning idiot and… it felt good. Right.
My blood pressure didn’t go up. My eye didn’t start twitching. I didn’t feel itchy or uncomfortable or anything like that. It was like… putting on my favorite pair of sweatpants.
How about that? I was going to have to process this some more later.
“Thank you for that,” I told him, unable to keep from smiling as I held the l-word real close to me. I was going to have to think on it some more.
“I’m always here when you need a cuddle,” he said, totally serious, watching me as his right hand went to wrap around the back of my thigh. “Or more.”
I flashed him a small smile. “I need to go deal with someone walking around here that shouldn’t be. Are you done for the day or—”
The knock at my door came a second before a voice I hadn’t heard in person in months came from the direction. “Lenny, you in there?”
Before I could get another word out, the figure appeared, hands already on his hips, eyes aimed in the direction of the chair I had just gotten off of.
His blond hair was cut shorter than in the past. Those blue eyes were still the color of the navy shirt I’d worn yesterday, and he still had the same body I had seen expand and grow throughout my life: trim and muscular.
The hand on the back of my thigh slid an inch higher, the fingers curling around it even more than they had before, and it was that, that snapped me out of it. Not the numbness that came over my spine, replacing the joy and happiness that had been there moments ago. Or at least in the context of the man standing there, years ago. The vision of him had once brought me comfort. Trust. I had hugged this person more times than I could ever count.
I had loved Noah. As a friend. Like a brother. For a tiny amount of time I had thought as more than that.
But it was Jonah’s hand on my leg that grounded me then.
And the fact that it didn’t go anywhere.
The only part of my body that moved as those navy-colored eyes flicked to the man touching me was my mouth. “Hi, Noah,” I said pretty fucking calmly.
That had his gaze moving up to my face. I watched his nostrils flare and his hands—hands that had touched me ten thousand times—form fists.
I stayed right where I was. Like I always would. And if a small amount of grief slid along my back, it shouldn’t have been surprising.
“Hey,” the man who had once been my best friend said, his gaze moving back toward Jonah for a moment and lingering there in a way I didn’t like.
I didn’t touch Jonah’s shoulder to be an asshole, but I did because he was special to me. Because I would never pretend not to feel something for him just to make someone else feel better. Especially not when that someone else didn’t deserve anything from me anymore. “Jonah, this is Noah. I told you about him, remember?” I moved my gaze back toward the blond, sliding my hand to Jonah’s upper arm, his biceps bunching under me. Then I said the words that I hoped would mold the direction of whatever was going to happen. “We grew up together.”