There was at least one obvious one I could immediately think about. “Mark can never find out about it?”
Brett nodded slowly, like he was a little dazed by the direction our evening had taken. Hell, I knew that I was. I couldn’t believe that he was actually considering it, but he was. My long shot might just have a hit the target.
Butterflies the size of bats zoomed around in my stomach, lodging themselves in the lining. There was a stirring between my legs that was steadily building to an ache the more it sank in that there was actually a chance that this was happening.
“That’s one,” Brett said, dropping his chin to look at me over the bridge of his nose. “And it’s the golden rule. I mean it, Soph. He can never, ever under any circumstances whatsoever, even know that we had this conversation. There’s no bending, skirting, or breaking that rule.”
“Consider it done.” I didn’t want Mark finding out any more than Brett did. He would kill Brett, make me watch, and then possibly kill me, too. Not a desirable outcome.
Brett gave me long look. “And if I say yes, you have to know that it’s a one-time thing.”
“One night and one night only?” I tried to joke, but Brett didn’t look amused. He leaned forward, his elbows on the polished wood of the table.
“One night,” he said. “The only reason I’m even considering this, despite the fact that Mark would cut off my dick if he knew that I was, is because I care about you. You’ve been a friend for a long time, and I don’t want some asshole hurting you. You know what they say. If you want something done right...”
“Do it yourself,” I finished for him.
Brett nodded. “Exactly. Back to the original question. When did you want to do this?”
I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. My plan was pretty much to get Brett to agree. I really should’ve thought it through. “Mark should be out of the apartment for the rest of the night. Unless you want to go to your place?”
“No, too risky with my mom there. I mean, the place is big, but there’s always a chance that we could run into her, which would be a really fucking awkward thing to have to explain if she sees you coming out of my bedroom in the morning.”
All the moisture in my body that hadn’t already rushed to my sex gathered on my palms. “Wait, if we’re talking logistics, does that mean that you’re in?”
I crossed my clammy fingers in my lap and held my breath while I waited for his answer. It didn’t take long.
“Yes, I’m in.” Brett drew his wallet from his pocket, dropped a fistful of bills on the table and slid out of the booth. When he was on his feet, he held his hand out to me. “Coming?”
Hopefully soon. “Yeah.”
I couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. My legs wobbled a bit when I tried standing, my kneecaps seemingly having forgotten how to work. Never one to miss a thing, Brett noticed and gave me concerned look.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
; I nodded so fast that I must’ve looked like a bobble head doll on a bad gravel road, but I didn’t care. I wanted this, him, too much. “I’m sure.”
“Let’s go then,” he said, reaching for my hand and entwining our fingers. I’d never held his hand before, and his touch skyrocketed my levels of arousal. His hand was so big and warm in mine, his grip firm and strong.
It calmed my nerves, but heightened everything else. Those hands would be on my body soon, touching me the way I’d been fantasizing about for years.
“You didn’t want to eat first?” I asked as he led me out of the crowded restaurant.
“No.” Brett smirked, then squeezed my hand. “Unless you did?”
Hell no, I’d waited long enough for this. I wasn’t waiting another minute if I didn’t have to. “I’m fine. I’m not hungry.”
“Okay.”
Brett hailed a cab, saying that while he shouldn’t be over the limit to drive, he wasn’t taking any chances. It also decreased the possibility of anyone driving past our place and seeing his car outside when Mark wasn’t there, so I agreed.
Once we were in the cab, he slung his arm around my shoulders and tucked me close to his side. All the way back to my apartment, there wasn’t one second where he wasn’t touching me. Whether it was drawing random patterns on my bicep or lacing our fingers together, his hands were on me.
It was nothing inappropriate or even particularly intimate, but it still made me tingle in all the right places. When he touched me, it was like the rest of the world zoomed out, and everything was only zoomed in on him. My heart sang, my skin buzzed, and my thoughts wobbled crazily.
He hadn’t so much as kissed me, and I was swollen and wanting by the time we reached the apartment.