Reckless With You Page 4

  “I just don’t understand why he didn’t talk to you about it. If this person is so important to him, they should have shared something. Because you’re important to him, too.” Zoey looked at me, and I sighed.

  “I thought I was. I don’t know what any of it means.”

  “We don’t either. And that’s why he’s a twat.” Zoey winced, looked at Erin, and then added quickly, “Or a jerk. Or a loser. I don’t know, enter whatever word you want there. Something that states he hid something pretty big. So big, that I feel like he was hiding it on purpose. As in he didn’t want her to know about you.”

  “Or worse, maybe she knew about you, and he didn’t want to have to deal with the two of you meeting. After all, not everybody can deal with male and female relationships like that.”

  “It was an issue a couple of times in the past when Tobey was dating someone, and even when I dated someone. But not on our end. We always made it work.”

  It probably helped that I was partially in love with Tobey even then. Or, at least what I thought was love. Maybe I had been wrong about that feeling. I honestly didn’t know any more. And the fact that I was questioning everything hurt. I really was tired. Maybe wine would make it better. At least, for the evening.

  “I don’t know, but it was all a little shady,” Zoey said quickly. “Shady enough that we need to rethink everything. I hate what he’s done to you. I hate that I can see the doubt in your eyes, and the pain. Yeah, you decided to tell him about your feelings in a fun way, something that should have been very fun, but that’s fine. We legit all thought you were dating anyway.”

  “We weren’t.”

  “I thought you were,” Erin said quickly. “And I’m the newest one to the group. Sure, I’ve known you for a bit, but we were never as close as we’ve gotten recently. And we all swore you two were dating. Or maybe that you had been dating and broke up or something. But every single one of us thought you guys had at least been together at some point. Or were still. I thought I saw love there, emotion. Something. So, you weren’t just making things up in your head. We all saw it. And Tobey relied on you for so much. He was always there for you. And you were legit always there for him.”

  “That’s what friends do.”

  “Yeah, but not like you two were. You guys were practically an old married couple,” Zoey added. “So, yeah, not sure what the fuck he was thinking, but…we love you. And we’re sorry that he was an asshole. But you don’t get to beat yourself up any more. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I lied.

  They all knew it was a lie, but they let it go. They each stood up and hugged me, and I smiled.

  “We’ll make it work. He can still be my friend.” I heard the desperation in my voice, and the girls pointedly didn’t look at each other as they nodded slowly.

  “Of course, baby.”

  I heard the pity in Erin’s tone, even though I knew she was trying to hide it.

  “Of course.”

  Tobey had to still be my friend. I couldn’t handle it if I’d ruined that, too.

  I walked the girls out and then took off my pants.

  I did not want to wear pants. Pants should not be required, at least in your own home.

  I put away the wine and then took out the Don Julio. I did two shots in a row, no need for lime with the good tequila. And then I turned on my music.

  Alanis Morissette would get me through this.

  She was the only one that could. After all, Jagged Little Pill is an anthem. I might have been too young to really understand it when it first came out, but it was still an anthem.

  I blared the music, did another shot, and started dancing in my underwear. After all, when was a better time to dance in your underwear than when your heart was breaking, and your whole world was shattering?

  Because I hadn’t heard from Tobey. He hadn’t answered my texts or my calls.

  And I had sent and placed two of each. And I knew that sounded desperate.

  I was so mortified. So afraid to see him again. But I also needed to see him because I had to make sure everything was okay. He was such a big part of my life. I couldn’t lose him.

  I loved him. But he didn’t love me. He loved her.

  The tequila mixed with my emotions, and I knew I was going crazy, but I didn’t care.

  “Would she go down on you in a theater, Tobey? Would she? Would she?” I screamed the words, danced and thrashed my head around. I cried out, shaking my ass and dancing around the house.

  When the music suddenly stopped and a throat cleared, I froze.

  “Please don’t be Tobey, please don’t be Tobey, please don’t be Tobey,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Not Tobey,” a deep voice said. I turned on my heel, my eyes wide.

  “How the fuck did you get in my house?” I screamed at Tucker.

  That’s when I realized that I had been screaming to Alanis Morissette while holding the tequila bottle and dancing in my underwear.

  Oh, good. Another man who’s seen me in my underwear at one of the worst times. I should start creating a spreadsheet to track this. Maybe keep a journal.

  Perhaps it could even be my thing—embarrassing myself in my underwear in front of people.

  “You left the door partially open, babe.”

  “I’m not your babe.” I burped and then sipped another sip of tequila straight from the bottle. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure exactly where I was on my drinking, but considering that I could see two Tuckers in front of me, I had a feeling I’d had more than enough.

  “And I did not,” I said, snorting.

  Ha, I was funny. So funny. But neither Tucker was laughing. Instead, they had their hands in their pockets and were just looking at me.

  You know, Tucker looked kind of hot. In a big brother’s best friend sort of way. But those thoughts were taboo.

  But that wasn’t my thing. My thing was falling in love with my best friend.

  But that hadn’t worked out, had it?

  Suddenly, Tucker was in front of me, the bottle of tequila ripped from my hands, and I was leaning on him.

  “Hey, stop copping a feel.”

  “You’re mumbling, and I think you said, ‘don’t cop a feel,’ and I’m not. My hands are on your waist, and you’re leaning on me only because you were starting to sway so far to the side that you were at a forty-five-degree angle.”

  “Was not.”

  “Considering that you hiccupped that, I’m going to say ‘were, too.’” He kissed the top of my head, and I sighed, closing my eyes.

  “You smell nice.”

  “I know I do. I just showered.”

  I took a big sniff. “Why?”

  “Because I was working out late at the gym and decided not to get in my car completely sweaty?”

  Was totally not going to think about Tucker working out. All sweaty. Just saying.

  “Why are you here, Tucker?”

  “I wanted to check on you. And I’m glad I did, considering you were dancing around in your underwear with your windows open, the lights on, and your door unlocked and ajar.”

  “Oh, God,” I said, still leaning into him with my eyes closed.

  “Yeah, oh God. The girls left you like this?”

  “Not really. But I don’t really remember.” My stomach gurgled, and I groaned.

  “Okay, baby, let’s sober you up and tuck you into bed.”

  “I’m not going to bed with you, Tucker. First, ew. Second, Devin would kill you. And maybe me.”

  “I’m a little worried that ew was your first thing.”

  I tried to take a step and teetered. Tucker sighed and put one arm beneath my knees, the other under my shoulders. Suddenly, I was airborne, wrapped around him. My anchor.

  “Hey, when did you get so strong?” I tapped his chest, his very nice chest, and purred.

  Did I just purr?

  Oh, God. Apparently, I was really good at embarrassing myself.

  “Okay, enough of that.” I knew he was m
uttering to himself, but I could hear him. At least, I thought I could. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about anything anymore.

  My stomach gurgled again. This time, I slapped my hand over my mouth.

  Tucker cursed under his breath, put the tequila on the counter, and ran me to the bathroom.

  I was on my hands and knees in front of him a moment later, and not in a fun way. Not that it was going to be fun with Tucker ever. After all…ew.

  When did I start saying ‘ew?’ I wasn’t twelve. Dear God, tequila made everything worse.

  Tucker’s hands were in my hair, though again, not in a fun way. He pulled it back from my face and rubbed his other hand down my back as I threw up in the toilet.

  Oh, good, that mortification thing was back. This was a disaster. Another of my own making. What was wrong with me?

  I threw up everything I’d just drunk and eaten. Including the lovely cheese that Zoey had brought over.

  God, I couldn’t believe I had wasted cheese. And good tequila.

  If you’re going to throw up anything, it should be rum. Rum is what you threw up.

  At least, that’s what I had learned.

  It probably didn’t help that, you know, Dad was an alcoholic and drank a lot. But I had learned all my drinking from him.

  And…good. There came that horror. The shame again.

  I didn’t want to drink my worries away. I knew it didn’t help. After all, it certainly hadn’t worked for dear old Dad. And it wouldn’t work for me. I wasn’t going to do this again. I couldn’t.

  “I hate this,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

  Tucker was in front of me then, pulling my hair into a band behind my head and wiping my face with a washcloth. He was so good at taking care of people. He always had been.

  I knew he hadn’t really had anyone to take care of him, at least that’s what I had gleaned from listening in on conversations over the years. He didn’t have anyone now either. But he did have Devin. He had us.

  And here he was, taking care of me.

  “I know you hate this, baby.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Don’t be sorry. You’re allowed to get drunk. If your door and blinds had been closed, you would have been safe.”

  “How stupid. I’m so stupid.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re allowed to make bad decisions. You weren’t driving, you weren’t doing anything to others. So, it’s all good. And you know one of your brothers could have been here at any moment if you needed them. And the girls just left you alone. And I’m here now. We’re all here for you. Okay?”

  I shook my head and leaned into him, sighing.

  “I’m drunk. I’m in a bathroom. And I’m pretty much naked.”

  “I noticed.”

  “I would punch you, but I don’t have the energy.”

  “Tequila does that.”

  “I hate this,” I repeated.

  “I know, baby. Okay, let’s get some water and aspirin into you, and then I’m going to tuck you into bed.”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “You shouldn’t go to bed?”

  “I shouldn’t have done this. Shouldn’t have done any of this. I should have kept things the way they were.”

  “You’re mumbling again, but I think I got that. That fucking asshole shouldn’t have led you on. But I don’t want to get into that. Let’s get you into bed,” he whispered, his lips at my temple. He helped me brush my teeth, something I was very grateful for even in my drunken state, and then walked me to the bedroom.

  I peeled away from him, taking off my shirt as I did. I could have sworn I heard a groan come out of Tucker’s mouth, but I ignored it.

  That’s when I remembered that I wasn’t wearing a bra.

  But my back was to him. That was fine. Hopefully, I wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

  I went to my dresser, found another shirt, and pulled it over my head. Then I caught my reflection in the mirror. And not only mine. That’s when I realized that Tucker had closed his eyes, probably because my boobs were on full display in the mirror—hard nipples and all.

  Oh, good. I’d just shown Tucker more of myself than I had with Tobey.

  I was on a roll.

  I tried to turn on my heel to get into bed and almost fell. Thankfully, Tucker was there. He picked me up again.

  He was so hard, so warm.

  I closed my eyes and mumbled something, not even sure what I said.

  I could feel the soft cotton of the sheets beneath my hands as he slid me into bed, but then I sneezed. Somehow that made everything worse. I smashed my forehead into his, and he cursed, falling into bed with me.

  It might have been funny, but I was too tired to think about it or care. Instead, I rolled over on the very hard yet warm surface beneath me and promptly fell asleep.

  Chapter 4

  Tucker

  I woke up nestled against soft curves with my raging erection pressed along plump and luscious ass cheeks.

  Fuck.

  I knew I should have peeled Amelia off me after we’d fallen into bed, but I hadn’t been able to. She’d been so warm and soft, and my brain had hurt like a motherfucker after she’d knocked her head against mine.

  Last night had been a set of complications, one after another. After I’d stop laughing with her passed out on my chest, I’d tried to get her off me so I could leave.

  Only the woman clung in her drunken sleep, and I couldn’t bear to move her.

  When she moaned and slid into deeper unconsciousness, I simply sighed and went to sleep right next to her.

  Probably not the best idea, but I hadn’t been able to help it.

  It was hard to make good choices when it came to her, apparently.

  But that wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

  * * *

  I let my hand stroke down her hip, and I knew it had to be an unconscious thing. I was totally not doing this on my own. Because if I were, that made me evil. A lecher.

  When my hand slid up to her waist, I paused, holding back a groan.

  It was really hard to stop, but I did. I resisted. See? I wasn’t that much of a lecher.

  I pulled away and tried to move my groin from her posterior area. Only, when I did, she nestled back, pressing more firmly into my already too-hard cock.

  Of course.

  Apparently, this was how today was going to go.

  I mean, why wouldn’t this get even more awkward?

  I sighed and lay there, hoping she would wake up so we could forget this ever happened. Because we really needed to forget this ever happened.

  This wasn’t the first time I had woken up in a woman’s bed. Though I tried not to do it often. Usually, I left the night of or at least before we started spooning like Amelia and I were right now.

  But I didn’t think I’d ever slept in the same bed as a woman before, not without actually doing something beforehand, and not for the whole night.

  Well, well, tonight was certainly one of firsts.

  The first time I saw Amelia naked—at least mostly. The first time I saw her that drunk.

  The first time I held her hair back as she threw up.

  The first time I brushed a woman’s teeth.

  First time I slept in the same bed as a woman without having any type of sex.

  Oh, yeah, did I mention it was the first time I saw Amelia naked?

  I really needed to make sure that was out there, and that everybody knew. Because I saw Amelia Carr almost naked.

  I had a feeling that she hadn’t actually meant to do that.

  But I kept seeing those perfect breasts of hers, such perfect tits.

  Perfect nipples.

  She hadn’t known that her reflection was in the mirror like that. At least not at first. And I hadn’t said anything.

  And I was probably going to hell for that. Sure, I had closed my eyes, but not quickly enough. Because I had seen those tits. They were firm, high, and tight.
With perfect pink nipples.

  They were hard, pebbled. Either she was cold or aroused. Or maybe just drunk. I didn’t know at the time, but I hadn’t looked too hard. At least, I tried not to.

  But I liked nipples. I enjoyed all colors of them. Dark, light, brown, tan, pink, red. I adored all variations.

  I was a tit man. I couldn’t help it. Yeah, I was also an ass man. And the more I thought about Amelia’s curves, the more I knew I was going to hell.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about those tits, those perfect breasts. Big enough to overfill my hand, but I’d be able to squeeze and mold them as I slid my cock between them, fucking her breasts as I came all over her chest.

  God, I had to stop thinking about things like that.

  Because the more I did, the more likely it would be that I would thrust against her, slowly rocking into her ass, then slide between those cheeks and into that wet heat of hers.

  No, I had to stop.

  I held back a groan and tried to think of gross things. Baseball. Baseball could calm me. I didn’t like baseball.

  What about my grandma? No, that wouldn’t work. I hadn’t really met her. I’d think of someone else’s grandma, but that wasn’t going to help either.

  Ball sacks. Yeah, I could think about ball sacks. Those were kind of gross. I liked my own well enough, but they were all wrinkly and weird.

  Yes, ball sacks.

  Of course, now I was thinking about ball sacks and my dick, and the fact that it was hard and pressed against her ass, and all I wanted to do was slide inside.

  Not even inside her wet heat, but her ass, because I wanted to fuck that, too.

  I really needed to stop.

  Why hadn’t I noticed her body before? I had. I must have.

  But why didn’t I know these curves existed?

  She had that hourglass shape that begged for a man’s hands. For my hands. And my mouth.

  No, I couldn’t go there. But I totally wanted to.

  Of course, then there was the whole idea of doing naughty things to her as she did equally wicked things to me. But that wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

  I hadn’t really noticed her curves before because I shouldn’t have. And she was usually dressed in work clothes, and more often than not, covered in dirt. I liked her covered in dirt. It meant that she worked with her hands, and I knew she was damn good at her job.