The Best Friend Bargain

Seriously, enough is enough.

I don’t need the reminder that Forest and I are just friends.

That he is not interested.

That he will never be interested.

That I am completely and totally uninterested in anyone else.

It’s agony every time our knees brush. Every time he smiles that God, you’re so difficult and I love it smile. Every time he runs his hand through his dark hair and shrugs like he just can’t explain himself with words.

Every time his dark eyes fix on me.

Or he says my name.

Or he hugs me goodbye.

It hurts being so, so close and so, so far at the same time.

But it’s better than the alternative.

My phone’s buzz pulls me into the moment. Someone is calling. I don’t know who or why, but if they’re calling instead of texting, it must be important.

I answer. Bring the speaker to my ear. “Hello.”

“Skye, hey.” Mackenzie’s voice flows through the speaker.

My thoughts skip a beat.

What the hell is Mackenzie doing calling me?

I don’t care that she’s family; I don’t want to hear from my cousin.

She stole my crush. Then she tossed him aside, broke his heart, and left him to stitch himself back together.

He’s still in love with her. Or obsessed with her. Or unable to move on.

Something.

She did that to him. She promised she wouldn’t go after him—she knew I liked him—and she did it anyway. Then she didn’t even appreciate what she had.

“You have time to talk?” Her voice is easy, casual, like this call is a normal part of our routine.

My veins buzz with anger. “I’m kind of busy actually.”

“It will only take a minute.”

I bite my tongue. I can’t tell her to go screw herself. I’ll hear about it every Thanksgiving and Christmas for the rest of my life.

I wave Forest away. I need to protect him from this. Whatever it is.

“Sure.” I swallow the rage that rises in my throat. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of weird.” She laughs.

It’s too familiar. I can hear her laughing over ‘N Sync. Teaching me how to apply eyeliner. Offering gossip.

Honestly, Skye, Forest is huge. Too much for your first time. You wouldn’t know what to do with it.

Shit, he’s still moving toward me.

Running toward me actually.

“Hold on a second.” I put my hand over the receiver. “Forest, I—”

Forest sprints up the stairs.

“What are you—”

He barrels into me. Pins me to the door.

The weight of his body sinks into mine.

For a split second, my eyes close. My head fills with delicious thoughts.

His strong hands on my thighs.

His soft lips on my neck.

His thick cock driving into me.

“Hang up.” His fingers curl around my wrist.

Mackenzie’s voice flows through the speakers, but the words blur together.

He pushes my hand into the door. “Now.”

“Why?” My arms refuse to move. His touch feels too good. Possessive. Careful. Demanding.

What he’s like when he fucks.

He must be.

He’s a caretaker with everyone, always, all the time.

“Now, Skye.” His eyes bore into mine. “Trust me.”

I stare up at him. Try to find some response that isn’t please keep doing this. Don’t explain. Don’t expand. Don’t offer any information that will puncture my fantasy.

He pulls my phone from my hands. Ends the call.

He’s still so close. We hang out all the time, but we’re not usually this close.

There are flecks of amber in his coffee eyes. God, they’re such pretty eyes. Deep. Impossible to read.

“Follow me.” He steps backward.

For a second, my brain clicks on, then his fingers curl around my wrist and my thoughts scatter. “What are we—”

“She’s gonna call back.”

“And?” How does he know Mackenzie is the one calling?

“Come on.” He tugs a little harder on my wrist. Not enough to hurt. Enough to say I’ve got you.

Or maybe I’m projecting. “I have to shower.” I wrap my fingers around my gym bag. I’m still in my pole outfit. High-waisted booty shorts, sports bra, cropped hoodie. It’s appropriate for the activity—I need bare skin to grip the pole—but for this? “And change.”

He glances back at me. Gives me a quick once over. Tilts his head to one side. “Why?”

Because he’s the hottest guy on the planet—a man with actual abs—and I’m soft.

Because he sleeps exclusively with model-thin women and I shop in the plus-size department.

Because I want to.

“Skye?” His eyes flit to my exposed stomach. My bare thighs. My combat boots. “You look good.”

“I…” Talking is hard. “I’m cold.”

He nods sure. “I’ll grab a blanket.” He squeezes my hand. “I’ll explain fast. I promise.”

I try to think of some sort of logical response, but all I have is please keep touching me.

As soon as we’re inside, Forest releases me. He slides my cell into the front pocket of his basketball shorts. Goes straight to the couch.

Grabs the purple blanket. Drapes it over my shoulders.

He raises a brow better.

No. I’m burning up. This is only making the situation worse. But I need the shield.