Page 54 of From Coast to Coast
“Company,” Troy repeats gleefully. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing some?—”
“Troy? I’d better go. I’ve got to pack and stuff, still. But keep me posted on Lawson, okay? And thanks for calling me. Please let me know if you need anything.”
“I need to know who your ‘company’ is.”
“Goodbye, little brother.” I hang up the phone, heart clenching with fondness for both Troy and Remy. I wish there was a way I could bring them together, even if I had to introduce Remy as just my friend.
“That’s cute,” he says immediately after I hang up the phone. I raise a quizzical eyebrow at him. “You call him little brother,” he explains.
“Well, he is. In every way that counts, anyway.” Idly, I spin my phone around on the counter, feeling suddenly awkward. It’s been a long time since I’ve done the morning-after song and dance. “Coffee? Tea?”
He smiles and approaches the counter. He looks absolutely edible. “Please. Tea is fine, thank you.”
I make him a fresh cup, giving him my favorite mug. There is a slightly humorous glint in his eyes as he watches me over the rim of the mug, blowing on it gently. I wonder if he can tell I feel a little uncomfortable.
“Not used to entertaining lovers?” Remy teases, one eyebrow cocked at a jaunty angle as he takes an obnoxiously loud slurp of tea.
“Shut up.” I laugh. “I’m sorry if I woke you up. I was trying to be quiet.”
“You didn’t. I missed you, though. Not really a fan of waking up alone, I have to say.” He sighs dramatically and I start to relax. There’s no reason for any discomfort—it’s Remy.
“Next time I’ll stick around for the cuddling,” I promise. “You feel okay?”
Remy has thrown himself into our relationship with such gusto that I sometimes forget he’s never been with another man before. We couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves last night and any moment I wasn’t inside of him felt like a moment wasted. In the glaring light of the morning, however, I’m wondering if maybe that was a little too exuberant for someone so new to this. I could have hurt him.
He looks delighted by the question. “I feel great!”
“You’re not sore?”
“Oh, well, yeah. But I still feel great. I feel like we had an all-night sex marathon and now I’m energized enough to go run an actual marathon.” He smiles at me, crossing his arms in front of himself and leaning forward onto the counter. “Is that what you look all worried about?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t and you won’t.” He shrugs, taking another drink of his tea. “We’re good together, huh?”
I’ve had good. In fact, all I’ve ever had is good. Remy and I aren’t that. We’re great. Explosive, brilliant, fucking magnificent. Whatever adjective means I’ve become an addict for the way he tastes, sounds, and feels. We are a lot of things—good doesn’t even scratch the surface.
“Yeah, we are,” I agree, but keep it at that. Remy doesn’t need to deal with my sudden attachment issues. We both knew what we were doing and it’s not fair to demand more from him hours before I step on a plane and leave for good.
“Can I help you pack?” he asks.
“Really?”
“I don’t really want to leave just yet.”
Those words send my stomach backflipping up into my chest. “I don’t want you to leave either. Stayas long as you like. It’s too bad you signed a lease on that apartment or you could have moved in here.”
Standing, he throws back the rest of his tea and skirts the island. When he reaches my side, he hooks an arm around my waist and steps into me. Before he can ask, I lean down and kiss him. He tastes like stale morning breath and bitter tea, which is perhaps the most unattractive way a man can taste. I lean into the kiss, lapping him up and savoring it. I want all the kisses—morning-breath ones included.
“How long will it take you to pack?” he mumbles, fingers fumbling at my waist and crawling up into my shirt.
“Screw packing, I’ll just buy new shit when I get there.”
He laughs as I walk him backward, bringing us back to the bedroom. The sheets are a twisted mess and there is a distinct smell to the room that screams sex. Before I can push him back down to the bed, Remy turns us and does it to me. His crooked smile looks devious as he tugs my pants down my legs.
“Let’s find out how muchyouenjoy edging,” he says, before his mouth fuses to mine and I stop thinking about anything but him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN