 
**Table of Contents**

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

# That's a

# Lie

# Victoria Klahr
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events or local or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published by Victoria Klahr Books

Virginia Beach, VA 23454

www.victoriaklahrwrites.blogspot.com

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any for whatsoever.

Copyright © 2014, 2015, 2016, Victoria Klahr

All rights reserved.

Cover by Samantha Bagood

Edited by Bethany Root
_For Stephen―who never gave up on me and showed me the truth and intensity of what it means to be fought for._
"They say that love is forever. Your forever is all that I need."

\- Sleeping with Sirens,

_If I'm James Dean, You're Audrey Hepburn_

# Prologue

### Josie

"Pretty, pretty, pretty please. With a cherry on top?" I begged, pouting my lips. He stared at me with a look that said _really?_ He clearly didn't want to give in to my pitiful pleading.

"Just this one time," I tried again. "We never get to play anything I want."

"That's such a lie, Josie. I always play your stupid games," Seth complained, crossing his arms. His blond hair overlapped his blue-green eyes, but I could still see his frustration easily. I wasn't going to give up.

"This will be the last time I ask for the rest of the summer," I reasoned. I could probably keep that promise.

He heaved a big sigh, as if agreeing to play with me was the biggest burden imaginable. "Ugh. You know I could never be with just one girl, Josie. There's no way I'll get married. Who would want to be stuck with a _girl_ for the rest of his life?" he said, disgusted by the thought.

"Seth! It's pretend. Stop being a baby and play wedding with me," I said, giving him my best evil glare, and even at seven years old I knew it was good enough to make him cave.

"Fine, but I will never love you like that in real life. That's so gross," he said, sticking out his tongue.

"Uh, duh . . . It's pretend. My Prince Charming won't pick his nose and eat it. _That's_ for sure," I responded, equally disgusted.

"I do _not_ do that," he complained.

"Yeah huh . . . I saw you."

"No way . . . you're such a liar," he said, getting mad at me.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," I said, pulling on his arm. I dragged him over to the tree in my backyard and made him stand to the right of it. "Okay. You wait here for your beautiful bride."

I ran to the bathroom inside my house and grabbed a whole roll of toilet paper. I tried to comb out the knots in my messy, long brown hair, but nothing worked, so I grunted and just stuck in a headband. I stood on the stool so I could see myself in the mirror, and then very carefully started to cut off long strands of toilet paper. I placed each piece underneath my headband, creating a long cotton veil. When I finished, I tried to scrub the dirt from my face, but couldn't get it all off and gave up quickly.

I sprinted upstairs to my room, careful not to pull out any of the pieces of my veil, and put on my Cinderella princess dress and slippers. I grabbed my strawberry Lip Smackers from my jewelry box, and after applying a good layer, I smacked my lips, ready to go get pretend-married to Seth.

I reached the sliding glass door and looked out into the backyard at my pretend groom. I couldn't wait until the day that I could really get married. It would be beautiful. I'd wear a beautiful poufy dress, and my dads would walk me down the aisle. I'd have the dream guy, tall, dark and handsome, waiting to spend the rest of his life with me. The stork would bring us beautiful babies, and we would live happily ever after.

Instead, I pretended my best friend was the man of my dreams. Seth stood next to the tree, picking at the bark as he waited for me to get back. He was scrawny, with messy hair and skin covered in dirt, but I guessed he would have to do. In my seven-year-old mind that had been brainwashed by fairy tales and Disney movies, I never would've thought of Seth as marrying potential.

When he heard me slide open the door, he turned around and smiled.

He smiled at me!

He had a big grin on his face the whole time I walked to him, and I couldn't help but giggle at our silly game. When I got to him, I shoved his shoulder. He pushed me back, and we ended up in the dirt, each of us trying to win our impromptu wrestling match.

What was I thinking? Get married to Seth Montgomery?

Yuck!

# July: Seven Years Old

# June

# Chapter 1

### Josie

When you build a relationship on secrets and lies, you start to question whether or not that relationship can ever be salvaged.

First, you have to be able to forgive the betrayal—to say that it's okay that that person lied to you and kept things from you that were very important. Then you have to forget about the duplicity. Forget that they lied to you for hours, days, months, or years, so you can attempt to move on from the hurt that they caused you.

I don't think that's possible. I don't think a person can just forget that their heart was ripped open after being lied to. I don't think a person can move on as if nothing happened. And I most certainly don't think a relationship can ever be the same when all the smoke subsides, and we're only left with the ashes of a broken heart.

I'm not sad anymore. I shed no more tears for a person who turned out to be a hypocritical asshole, and I certainly feel no more warm-fuzzies when I think about him. He promised three times that he wouldn't let me go, and three times, I've had to endure the loss of him. There's no way in hell I'll put myself through that pain again.

Blake Porter can go to Hell.

"Ugh," Seth grunts, scrunching up his face and grabbing his stomach. I go in for another punch, only with a little more strength and power behind my fist.

"Ugh," he grunts again. "Jesus, Pussycat, not so hard."

"Being weak isn't an option, Seth," I say with unwavering determination.

I get back into ready stance and bounce on my toes to keep my momentum intact. I decide to change up my method and go for a kick. Using the strength in my core, I power my leg into his stomach. He grabs his abdomen and hunches over.

"Very good, Miss Sommers," Mr. Tucker says as he watches my defensive maneuvers. Seth looks up at me and gives me a menacing glare before rising back to full height. He may look intimidating, being a foot taller than me and a lot more muscular, but that doesn't deter me from wanting to kick his ass.

"I'm _so_ going to get you back for that," Seth says when the instructor passes to check on other students.

I give him my best evil laugh to distract him before surprising him with another kick. Only he's not surprised, and he grabs my foot and twists it until I fall onto the floor mat. I groan as my stomach makes forceful impact onto the ground. Before I freak out and escape, Seth grips me hard, turns me over and pins my arms above my head. He straddles me in a way that is hard to escape, but I think back to all my training and try to remember a way out of this position.

_Don't freak out. Don't freak out._ The problem with this position is that it's too familiar. For all the years I've put into learning not to be a victim again, I'm shocked at how incompetent I become when I'm forced into the positions that remind me of that night six years ago.

But then my fear turns to heat, changing when I realize exactly who is on top of me. Holding me. Touching me. I'm momentarily distracted as I see the corner of his lips lift and watch his blue-green eyes fill with humor at his _victory._

A chill runs up my back and my heartbeat flutters rapidly against my chest as I stare at his handsome face—twenty-three years old with eyes that crinkle when he smiles, blond lashes a mile long, and the lushest lips I've ever seen. Tasted.

I shake away the tingles, however futile the task is, and focus on escaping. I find my opportunity as he raises his hand to push some of his sandy blond hair out of his eyes.

I use that small window of time to buck up my hips as hard as I can. When I raise my hips for the third time, he loses his balance and falls forward. He uses his hands to stop himself from landing face-first onto the mat. I roll out of his grip and grab his hands to bring his arms behind his back, putting my weight on him to keep him on the ground. Pride courses through my veins at my small win, and I hear Seth chuckle underneath me.

"Eighteen years we've been fighting, and you still kick my ass," he says.

He's lying. I know that he could beat me easily if he wanted to, but he never uses his full strength when we're in class—he wants to give me the opportunity to perfect my self-defense skills. I shove his head playfully and get up. Mr. Tucker blows his whistle to get everyone's attention as Seth gets off the floor.

As the instructor gives out final instructions, I feel Seth's shoulder brush against mine. The miniscule touch sends an enormous sense of alertness through my body. I freeze and hold my breath, debating whether or not I should glance over to see if he even notices the contact.

He probably doesn't care anymore. He's had two years to get over me. I decide to take the risk anyway, and I slowly drag my eyes in his direction. He's staring straight ahead, listening intently to what Mr. Tucker is saying. He doesn't notice our skin brushing.

It's for the best. There's no reason for me to react this way around him, anyway.

Of course I still feel a burst of pleasure every time he touches me... it's been _two years._ When he came back two weeks ago, I was hit with a pound of shock. Clearly that's why my emotions are out of whack. Right? I had gone so long without seeing him, touching him, hugging him. _That's_ why I feel such a pull toward him now.

That has to be it. I just missed him. That's all.

But it's a lie. A lie I've been telling myself since he's been back. But I force myself to think that way. To think of him only as my best friend. I _need_ to think that way. Because Seth has always deserved so much more than what I did to him.

When I looked at Seth again in that bookstore two weeks ago, I knew that I wanted to be a better friend. I wanted to take back my life and stop being scared.

***

_"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, Pu_ _ssycat," Seth said to me when he walked into Reading Haven._

_My heart raced, and my face heated. Boo jumped out of my lap and strutted to Seth, rubbing against his leg. Seth's eyes never left mine. Depths of seafoam that I'd missed for so long._

_He'd come back._

_So many emotions rolled into me at once. I wanted to run up and jump into his arms. I wanted to punch him for leaving without telling me. But mostly, I wanted to say I was sorry, and I wanted to make everything better._

_I stood up and put my hand on my hip. "You better be sorry, Seth Montgomery . . . A fucking note? Are you kidding me?" I said anger pulling throu the most.. Beneath my anger was hurt. And he knew it._

_He left the country two years ago, and didn't even tell me. His best friend! The sting was still as strong as it had been when I got the note from him saying_ I'm sorry.

_My pretense of anger couldn't match the thrill of finally seeing him again. I had gotten good at hiding my pain over his departure from my life, and this felt like a second chance that I didn't want to give up. Seth chuckled and dropped his backpack to the floor, slowly inching toward me._

_"Somehow I knew that was exactly what you were going to say," he said, a smile creeping up his face._

_He looked incredible. His hair had grown a little bit, cropped short on the sides and long blond on top, still a sexy mess on top of his head—like he rolls out of bed and it's perfect. He dressed in black jeans and a black Young & Reckless T-shirt, with black Chucks to finish the look.  A roguish smile played on his lips... still melting my insides even though it shouldn't. _

_And his eyes—those same blue-green eyes looked up and down my body, searching for the girl he used to know._

_Seth was the only person who understood me, and no miles of distance or time between us would change that.  _

_He walked up to me until only about six inches stood between us. "I'm sorry, Jos. I should have told you, I just co―," he started to clarify, but I didn't need an explanation right then._

_I pushed myself the rest of the distance and crushed against him, wrapping my arms around the person I'd missed so much these last two years. I couldn't stop the prickle of tears as he wrapped his comforting arms around me and held me close to him._

_My best friend was here! Back in North Carolina, and I wasn't going to waste that moment rehashing our problems._

_"I missed you so much, Seth," I choked between tears._

_The tears started, and I wasn't ashamed. He pulled back and looked me in the eyes, a mixture of sadness and happiness in his eyes. He wiped my tears, and his lips lifted in a small, sad smile. I buried my head back into his chest and breathed him in. He smelled like a mixture of hay and apple pie. Home. He smelled like home._

_In a short embrace, Seth filled the hole that had kept growing since he'd left—and I didn't want to move from that spot._

_"I missed you more than you'll ever know, Pussycat," Seth said softly, stroking my hair as he held me tight._

_I thought that he had given up on our friendship when he left. Of course, he had every right.. A couple e-mails here and there was never enough._

_"I'm so sorry about your dad. I tried to find a way to get here as soon as I got the e-mail from my mom, but I was in a location with no service, so I didn't get the message until two days ago. She told me what happened when I got in this morning," he continued, stroking my hair as I held him close._

_In my emotional state, the reminder about Daddy's passing only fueled more sobs. Seth continued to run his hands through my hair and rub my back as he held my weary body. When I didn't think I could cry any more tears, I pulled away from him and punched him in the bicep._

_He grabbed his arm and chuckled. "And somehow I knew you were going to do that, too," he said._

_I wiped the tears from my face and tried to make myself look normal. "Yeah . . . Well, you deserve it. Two goddamn years, Seth!"_

_"You know I had to leave, Pussycat. After everything . . ." he swallowed hard, pleading me with his eyes. "I just needed to let you go. Give you a chance to be happy," he said, his sadness unmistakable in his voice._

_My heart broke. I was a terrible friend. I had blamed him for the problems in my relationship with Blake. I had told him that what we'd had was disgusting. I admitted that I had_ used _him._

_Instead of accepting how crazy in love with him I was, I chose someone who was supposed to be a safe choice. Seth had every right to walk away from me forever, but he had come back._

_"I'm so sorr―," I started, but he cut me off by grabbing my hand and pulling me in for another hug._

_"Don't worry about it, Jos. We can talk about it later. Right now, I just want to be here for you. How's your dad?"_

_I sighed and pulled away from him. I picked up my bag and put my Kindle inside of it. My relief was overwhelming. All I wanted was to talk to my best friend for the first time in two years._

_"He's doing as well as you can expect," I answered, grabbing Seth's hand and pulling him toward the door. "He's depressed. When we found out that Daddy had been in a car accident, he was a wreck. He couldn't even move when he got the phone call. I had to take the phone and get all the details."_

_We walked down the sidewalk along a strip of stores. Movement meant I had something else to focus on. I didn't have to stand in one spot and concentrate on the gravity of my words._

_"He died instantly. There was no way to revive him. That's what hurts the most, I think. There was no chance for him to survive. One minute, he's telling us he's going to run to the store to get some ice cream for a movie night, and the next thing we know, he's gone. Ripped from our lives forever."_

_I tried to swallow the swell of emotions gathering in my throat. Tears were threatening to fall again as I remembered that night three weeks ago. I heard Seth sigh next to me, and looked up to see his own turmoil. His eyebrows pulled together and his Adam's apple twitched as he tried to swallow. His hand squeezed mine tightly. My parents were family to him, too._

_"I can't believe he's gone. My dad is great, your dad is great, but Will was something else. He was_ amazing _," he said sadly, shaking his head._

_"Yeah, I know . . . Dad's getting there. I saw him a couple days ago, and I think he might start going back to work soon. It could be good for him. Take his mind off of things," I said and shrugged my shoulders. I didn't really know how Dad was going to get over this. Daddy was his soul mate. Seth wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him, and we continued our walk through our little town._

_"Things'll get better, Jos. I'm not leaving this time. I'll help as best as I can."_

_"Thanks, Sethy," I said quietly. He amazed me. The fact that he had come back and was promising to be there for me was something I certainly didn't deserve, but peace washed over me for the first time in what seemed like forever._

***

Seth's been back for two weeks but I still haven't seen him as much as I would have liked—instead, I've been focusing on my final exams and papers for my master's degree. Since I finished school a couple days ago, we started making more plans together. Innocent, best friend plans—like in the old days.

Of course beating each other up is one of those bestie pastimes, so that's what we're doing today.

Mr. Tucker continues to talk to us about how to be prepared for anything. I've heard all the rules numerous times, but it doesn't make them any less important. I just wish Seth would move his damn arm so I can pay attention. He's making my breath a little short, and I don't like how it feels.

I don't want to get sucked into those emotions ever again. I don't want to feel them for _anyone_. Between the bricks surrounding my heart, the mortar is still wet—still raw from the pain.

But the urge to look at him to too strong. I tell myself it's just to make sure he hasn't noticed my reaction.

I turn my head slightly and look at Seth. He's in a black tank top and black shorts, looking so good. There's a splash of red color on his toned arms from working out in the sun again at his parent's farm, and his skin is glistening slightly with the little bit of sweat that we worked up.

I notice him, but he doesn't notice me. He's not paying any attention to me.

# Chapter 2

### Seth

I wish she would move that damn arm.

I try to focus on the instructor as my body starts to rage with lust for the only girl I've ever actually felt something for. Fuck! How am I supposed to concentrate on anything when her flawless skin is touching mine? She keeps stealing glances at me, and I can't tell if she's doing it out of annoyance of being close to me... or if she's thinking the same thing.

It's too soon, Seth, I chastise myself.

Fuck my internal morals. Fuck standards. I want to grab her and devour her whole. I want to make sure she never forgets just how good I can make her feel. I want to mark her entire body with mine, so every other guy she wants to fuck knows that she's my girl. I want to make it impossible for her to think of anyone but me.

I can't do that yet, though. She just lost her dad, and there's no way I'll play with her emotions when she's so fragile. She deserves to be in a good place before I show her how crazy I am about her.

Anyway, I still don't know what happened between her and Blake. She hasn't brought it up since I came back. It's been a year since they broke up, but that doesn't mean she's over him. He's the one who fucked up everything she and I had together, but she loved him for some fucking reason.

Hopefully now that she's finished her degree and she's not teaching in the summer, there'll be time to talk about things. Resolve our issues. Apologize to her. Figure out whether or not she's over him.

Finally, the instructor finishes his repetitive speech, and we're dismissed. There's a warring sense of relief and longing that consumes me when Josie moves to go to the locker room. I let out a breath that I've been holding since her skin first skimmed mine.

Sometimes it's so hard to be around her knowing that my feelings never changed. I tried so fucking hard to get her out of my head during the last two years. I fucked tons of girls―hell, more than one on many occasions―but she was still there. When I'd make the girls leave, Josie's face always crept into my mind. I would go outside and stare at the stars, wondering if she was looking at them, too. Wondering if she was thinking about me.

I tried to talk to her through e-mail, but those messages were nothing compared to the real thing. A way for each of us to hide from our embarrassment and anger. I knew she would be mad that I'd left without telling her. I wanted to hurt her, though.

I was just so fucking angry. I was angry at myself for falling for her and angry at her for not fighting for us. Mostly, I was hurt, though. Hurt that she thought what we had together was "sick." She just never understood what each and every time meant to me.

I pick up my backpack, and wait for Josie to come back out of the locker room. She walks out with her black gym bag that she brings to every lesson, though I've never understood why. She never changes after class, but I swear she brings it every time, thinking she's going to.

"Didn't change today, Jos?" I ask, smirking at her.

She walks toward me and rolls her eyes. God, she's so sexy. She's wearing skin tight yoga pants that make me want to bury my head between her thighs and tight sexy ass, and a blue tank top revealing her toned, slender arms. Blue is definitely her color. She's always looked good in it, even in that stupid old Ravenclaw T-shirt she's been wearing since middle school. She slings the bag onto her back and shakes her head.

"Not today . . . Next time, though," she says, walking to the door to leave.

I watch as she completes her routine check of both directions before she exits the door. It makes me sad. I don't think she even knows she's doing it. She always checks and double checks her surroundings so she won't ever be caught off guard again. She acts so strong, and she is, but when I watch her eyes continually searching for any signs of danger, I can tell she's still affected by what happened six years ago.

I'd give anything to take that away, to take away the hurt that bastard caused her. To take away the memories.

"I was hoping we could go to Will's grave today," I say, matching Josie's stride as we head toward my truck. She's been so busy that we haven't been able to go. I also think she's been avoiding it. She sighs, but I know she won't be able to come up with an excuse this time. She already told me she was free all day.

"Okay," she says quietly and opens the door to get into the truck.

"Good, I'll be back in one sec . . . Lock the door." I throw her my keys and jog down the sidewalk.

I go to the flower stand and pick up white daisies. Will had loved them—they always filled his house or the garden. I walk back to the truck and wait for Josie to unlock the doors.

She's got the cutest grin on her face, making me a little uncomfortable in my shorts. Her laughter rings through the locked door. She thinks she's so funny. I tap on the window and point to the lock. "Open it up, Jos," I say loudly, trying to hold back a grin.

"No way! How do I know you're not some guy dressed up as my best friend, sent to take me away forever?" I says just as loud.

I let out a chuckle, wishing that were the case. If I could whisk her away for the rest of my life, I'd be the happiest fucking person on the planet.

"Guess you'll just have to trust me . . . Of course, I could show you a couple body parts that you might be able to recognize."

I start laughing when I see her shocked expression. Her mouth hangs open, but a smile is tugging at her perfect pink lips. Finally, she leans over the seat and unlocks the door so I can get in. I lay the flowers in between us and grab the keys from her lap.

"You wouldn't have exposed yourself in the middle of the street." She huffs and leans back in her seat.

I look over at her and quirk an eyebrow. "Don't underestimate me, Pussycat. You don't think I have an exhibitionist side? Have you seen my pictures?" I ask, teasing her.

She turns her head and looks out the window. When I glance over, I notice red color flushing against her light brown skin. I can't tell if it's out of embarrassment or anger at me for bringing up my pictures.

Of course she knows. She took some with me, and she thought it was revolting. Anger starts to clog my throat and I clench my jaw, staring at the road.

I thought I was over it. I thought I could forget, but her words will never leave me. How can I possibly think about winning her over, when all I can think about is how she said she didn't love me? She was too much of a coward to say the words back then. To choose me over someone safer.

"Oh, I've seen them all right," she answers quietly, still facing away from me. I grip the steering wheel harder, not sure where she's going to go with this. "They were gorgeous, Seth." She doesn't need to explain what she's talking about. We both know. "I never got to tell you that, but they were amazing. Beautiful. They captured . . . " she trails off, unsure of herself.

I want her to continue. Fuck, do I want her to finish that damn sentence—but I shouldn't. It's selfish to want to hear what she thought those pictures captured. They are gorgeous—she looked so fucking beautiful in those shots. I had to leave them behind when I left the country so I wouldn't be tempted to jerk off to them every time I saw them.

Now they've been tempting me for the last two weeks since I've been home, making me insane almost every night.

" . . . everything," she whispers, finishing her sentence. I close my eyes briefly. I want more from her—I want her to explain every thought, every feeling, every sensation she felt when she looked at them. I want to know if she still thinks about them.

But that one word is enough to cause the emotions that I've been burying for two years to resurface. We pull up to the cemetery, and I'm fucking speechless.

"I know they did," I say finally, grabbing her hand after I park the car.

It's not even close to what I want to say. I want to tell her what I really think of those pictures, but it's still too soon. She needs time to heal. I rub my thumb across her soft hands. Mine are calloused and rough from working on the farm my whole life, and hers have always been dainty and soft in comparison. But she lets me hold her anyway, and I savor every damn stroke I make against her skin. We both take a deep breath before moving to get out of the car.

I reach over, grab the flowers, and walk to Josie. She stares across the cemetery, a look of sadness flashing across her face. It drives me insane to see her sad. I want to take away all of that pain. She's so tough and tries to hide that she's hurting, but I know her too well. She gives me a sad smile and starts in the direction of her father's grave, wisps of her hair blowing in the breeze.

We walk in a peaceful silence, respecting the other people who are mourning their losses as well. When we reach the tombstone, a weight starts to form in my chest. Will was like another dad to me. He was always there for Josie and me, whether it was running us around town, bailing us out of trouble at school, or providing the comforting hug we needed when we were hurting.

His tombstone reads: Will Sommers, beloved husband and daddy. "There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be."―John Lennon

Josie must have picked the quote. She knew Will would've thought it was fate for him to leave that night and pass in a car crash.

How can you not love a girl like that? Someone who is so thoughtful and careful with the people she loves. She probably hated the quote when she decided to put it on there, but she knew her dad would love it. Turning my head in her direction slightly, I see a single tear fall down her cheek. If there wasn't enough pressure in my chest before, there is now.

I look away so I don't succumb to the urge to pick her up and kiss away all of her pain. I groan quietly at my thoughts, and kneel down in front of Will's grave. Grass is starting to grow over the mound of dirt, and I run my hand over the dry soil, burdened with guilt.

I haven't been around for two years. Two more years I could have had with him. Six hundred and forty days I could have talked to him in person instead of through the computer, to prove to him I will always love his daughter. Guilt for not coming back home sooner punctures my heart.

"I'll keep my promise," I whisper softly, low enough that Josie doesn't hear me. I stay there for another minute before getting back up and stepping back. Josie seems to be in a trance, not quite sure what to do.

I walk up next to her, graze my shoulder against hers, grabbing her pinky with mine. She jerks and looks at me. I lost her there for a moment—lost her to the truth of her emotions instead of the lies she uses to cover up how she really feels.

"Can I have a minute?" she asks softly, pulling her lip between her teeth, a movement my eyes are immediately drawn to. Yeah, I need a minute, too.

"Sure, I'll go wait in the truck." I wrap my arm around her, bring her to me, and kiss her forehead in a lame attempt at letting her know I'm here for her. I walk back slowly, checking behind me multiple times to make sure she's okay. When I sit in my seat, I release a long sigh and bang my head back against the headrest, unsure of what I'm doing.

I want Josie.

Fuck!

# Chapter 3

### Josie

"I want you to know that I did it, Daddy," I tell . . . well, the grave, I guess. I know he's not really here, but this seems like the place to talk to someone who has died.

"I told Blake about the baby and the abortion. But more than that, I forgave him." This is hard for me to get out. I'm pretty sure Daddy still liked Blake even after everything that happened. He'd be sad about how things turned out, but I think he'd be proud of me.

"He walked away . . . " I continue. "At first I was sad, thinking I was wrong, but now I'm not. I'm okay. I just wanted to thank you. You said the truth could solve the underlying problems, and I think you're right. I told him the truth, and he couldn't handle it. It showed me who he really is."

I pause and reflect on what I just admitted. It's true. I'm glad I told Blake. His reaction made me see our relationship in a whole new light, and it forced me to move on.

I can't decide if I'm happy or sad about this epiphany. At first, I was confused by my relief. I was ready to love Blake entirely, and he still walked away from me—which should've been devastating. But with a couple weeks to think about it, I'm surprisingly happy.

Happy to know it's the end of the Blake chapter in my life. Glad that my judgment day has come and I have received my verdict. I may not be worth much in this world, but I'm worth someone who won't walk away from me. I won't settle for someone who can't accept me: flaws and all.

"I love you, Daddy, and I miss you something fierce. Dad does too." The grief creates a tornado of unstable emotions inside me and I choke on my words. I kiss my fingers and touch them to his tombstone, letting them linger there for a moment before getting back up and returning to Seth's truck.

Seth. What the hell am I thinking? Telling him what I think of the pictures we took together―I'm just looking for trouble, begging for another heartbreak. Only it would be much worse this time.

I get back in the truck, and we drive in comfortable silence. I'm still feeling solemn, and I think Seth is respecting my need for quiet. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music on the radio, and I follow the movements closely. Music runs through his blood and it leaks into the way his fingers strum. I love his hands.

_Ugh, shut up!_ I scream to myself. I imagine me in cartoon form, clobbering myself in the head with a hammer. Seth starts singing the Imagine Dragons song that's playing, and I close my eyes to enjoy his voice. Seth can sing—his voice soft, controlled, and able to reach higher notes than most men. He's a perfect myriad of Tom Higgenson and Kellin Quinn and Jesse Rutherford. It's sexy in a way that makes you feel like he's singing a love song directly to your soul.

I've always envied his talents in the arts. He can draw, paint, take amazing pictures, and the bastard can sing and play instruments too. It's been so long since I've heard him sing, and my heart seems to want to become the beat for his music.

Listening to him is not helping with my desire-- my longing for his breath to play a melody against my skin. I shake my head and look out the window.

He drives in the direction of my apartment. We agreed to have a movie night together, since it's the first opportunity I've had to relax in the past couple weeks. He's been staying in his room above the garage at his parent's house, but I actually have my own place and I want to rub it in his face that I'm all grown up. He parks on the side of my building and I hop out of the truck, grabbing my bag from the back. I really should stop bringing it if I'm never going to use it.

We walk up the stairs to my door, and I turn around and grin at Seth, excited for him to come in.

"You ready?" I ask in false urgency.

He returns the stern expression and crosses his arms over his chest. "I was born ready."

 I give him a curt nod and unlock my door, sliding my bag against the wall when the door opens.

 I lace my fingers together into a gun and pretend to sneak in as if we're undercover. Seth follows, jerking his head in all directions to scope things out. Then he surprises me by rolling on the ground in a poor attempt to be slick. He leans against the wall in my hallway, looks at me still standing here with my pretend gun, and gives me a nod.

Shifting the length of my back against the wall, I slide stealthily across until I reach my kitchen entrance. I sneak a peek in, and quickly turn back to look at him. He gets down on his stomach and army crawls toward me. When he reaches my legs, he glances in the kitchen. He looks back up at me and makes a show of checking out my thighs, before reaching my eyes. My stomach gets a warm feeling and my veins wait for the flame that always comes when he looks at me like that.

"I think it's clear," he whispers.

"I think so, too―," I start to whisper back, but I'm shocked silent when he jumps up from the ground and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into the living room.

"Don't worry, pretty girl, I'll get 'em." He points his finger gun at the invisible intruders and blasts them away. I giggle as he chucks me onto the couch and flops down with a big sigh. "Phew, that was a close one," he says seriously.

"Good thing I had you," I say, between my fits of laughter. He reaches over and tucks some of the hair that fell out of my ponytail behind my ear.

"Yes, it is," he says confidently, his charming smile wide.

I missed that smile. His laugh lines and crinkles near his eyes somehow make him even more handsome. His lips are so smooth and luscious . . . _Ugh!_ I conjure another mental image of slamming myself with a hammer until I'm a cartoon accordion. I hop up from the couch and spread my arms wide.

"Welcome to my home!"

 He continues to smile while he looks around. "Looks good. Did you clean for me?" He smiles wryly and I huff.

"Not everyone is a slob like you, Seth." I push his head. "Go pick a movie, I'll get the popcorn." I walk to the kitchen while he looks through my DVDs. I wait for the popcorn to finish and put it in a bowl, automatically grabbing the chocolate chips, dumping a bunch in the bowl, and shaking it so it gets all over the popcorn.

"Don't forget the chocolate chips," Seth shouts from the living room. I laugh to myself and bring the bowl out to the living room.

"No way would I forget." I plop down on the couch while he puts in the movie. Blake always thought it was gross to put chocolate chips in my popcorn, so I never did it with him. But Seth loves it just as much as I do.

When he's ready, he turns around and smiles at me—a charming and boyish smile that alights his eyes with playfulness. "Good."

He sits on the other end of the couch and I force myself not to look at the distance that separates us. _Don't look. Don't think about the three feet of space. Stop looking. Stop twitching to move._

"What are we watching?" I ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in my mouth. Maybe it will shut up my brain.

"Ted."

_Yep. It's good to have him back.  _He catches my gaze and I know he's thinking the same thing I am. Thinking about the days as teenagers when we would watch stupid funny movies on the weekends, fighting over who sat in my worn-out beanbag chair and ending up with one of us in the other's lap. Laughing until we cried. Falling asleep on the floor. Waking up as a tangled mess of arms and legs.

"Awesome. I love this movie." I wiggle around until I'm sitting comfortably, wishing things weren't so complicated between us so I could snuggle against Seth instead.

"Me too," he mumbles with a mouth full of popcorn.

Somewhere between the previews and the movie, I end up with my head in his lap, watching the TV while he strokes my hair. But as soon as I notice it, I can't stop thinking about it. Following every touch closely. Forcing myself to breathe. Reminding myself that Seth's my best friend above all else.

When my favorite part comes on, Seth and I sing at the exact same time—in sync with each other like when we used to quote every line in _Dumb and Dumber_. "When you hear the sound of thunder, don't you get scared. Just grab your thunder buddy and say these magic words." We both yell the next part, "Fuck you, thunder! You can suck my dick! You can't get me thunder, 'cause you're just God's farts!" And then to top it all off, we both make farting noises with our mouths.

We don't hear anything from the movie for a good five minutes, laughing too hard until tears spill out of my eyes. When I hear his laughter I'm brought back to a place of . . . well, I can only describe it as _feeling_. I work so hard to eliminate true, raw feeling. But Seth's laugh—him slapping his knee and reaching over to slap mine so it isn't left out—reminds me of what it means to experience life. To live again. To _feel._

When my laughter subsides into silence, I look up into his cerulean-colored eyes. Does he feel the same? Does he know that he's so much more than my best friend? Can he see that I pretend every goddamn day of my life?

Pulling himself together, he looks back at me and cautiously reaches his hand to my face. His thumb swipes the tears as his hand cups my cheek. The shock and tingle his calloused hands create against my skin is electric―a match trying to spark the gunpowder scattered in my veins.

I close my eyes and lean into his touch, holding my breath while my heart pounds in my chest. _Thump thump_. Swallow. Feel. _Thump thump_. Fear. Adoration. _Thump thump._ My heart. So loud, as if in warning. A threat to stop. To freeze out the feelings resurfacing by his touch.

My phone vibrates and rings on the coffee table, but I ignore it, not ready to pull away from this moment. I completely forgot how much fun I used to have with Seth. I've been blocking out true emotions for so long that it's almost a shock to feel so content and happy.

His hand moves to the hair that has escaped my ponytail, and he twirls it in his fingers. My hand reaches out to touch him—to feel the silk of his hair, the velvet of his lips, and the stubble on his jaw. But as soon as I'm brave, we're interrupted by my phone ringing again.

We both sigh audibly and break away from the moment. "That's probably important," he says, nodding to the annoying phone with a sad smile.

I groan internally and reach out for my buzzing phone. _Brooke_. I've been avoiding her, which has been easy since we've both been busy, but now that school's out she knows I'm free to talk. I'll make sure it's not an emergency and then tell her I have to go. She'll understand I want to spend time with Seth, so I'm sure she won't be mad.

"Hey girl," I answer. Seth continues to play with my hair, twirling it, unwrapping it, tugging it, and then smoothing it out, repeatedly. It's exceedingly distracting, but I pretend not to notice. Brooke takes a couple seconds before she responds.

"What did you do to him?" she asks harshly. Her tone and accusation make me pause.

"Shit," I breathe out. Seth looks down at me and his eyebrows crease into a frown. I shake my head, get up from laying on him, and walk toward my bedroom, not ready to explain it all to him.

"What's wrong, Brooke? What do you mean?" I'm pretty sure I have a good idea, but I want to make sure before I start blurting out personal stuff.

"Oh, don't play stupid with me, Josie. You know exactly what I mean." She sounds like she's trying not to be too loud, and I can hear a slight echo.

"Are you in the bathroom?"

" _Ugh_ , yes . . . I don't want him to hear me."

"Him? Who, Brooke?"

"Blake! What did you do to him?" she asks again.

I groan. "Brooke you don't understand. I can explain everything some other time," I say, hoping to appease her.

"Josie, he comes here almost every freaking night, drunk off his ass and with a different girl all over him." I roll my eyes at this new information—that he would cause turmoil at his brother's house, knowing very well that Brooke and Brandon are expecting. _Asshole._ It's a surprise, but as I recall the flash of the hatred he threw at me when I told him about the abortion, I wonder why I'm even shocked. Just because the Blake I used to know was romantic, sweet, and loyal doesn't mean that the older Blake is as well.

"I'm telling you Brooke, leave it alone for now. It's not all my fault that he's acting like that."

"No, Josie. You fucked him up! It had to be you. He keeps ranting about how you broke his heart and he's saying some other mean things. Really mean things about _you_ ," she says, not giving up. And I believe her. I know he's probably explaining to everyone how coldhearted and pathetic I am. It pisses me off.

"I didn't fuck him up, Brooke. Get your freaking facts straight! It's his own damn fault that he's acting like a jackass. I _forgave_ him. His dad _raped_ me, and I fucking _forgave_ him for lying about it. He doesn't get to act like that and blame it all on me. That's not fucking fair," I respond, anger heating my face and making my heart pump heavily.

"I'm―," Brooke starts, but my phone is ripped from my hands so I don't hear the rest.

"She'll call you back," Seth says in a deadly low tone to Brooke, eyes hard and level, jaw tense, veins cobalt and visible amid the strain of his muscles. He hangs up and throws my phone on my bed. His eyes darken in anger as he looks at me. I take a step back, knowing this will turn tense. Seth has harbored so much guilt for the night I was raped, so this isn't a subject he will let me get out of talking about.

"Who were you talking about, Josie?" he asks, rage dripping from each word. He's going to be so mad at me. I never told him why Blake and I broke up last year. "Please don't make me ask again," he says after I stare at him in silence for a minute. His voice is strained, taut with tension as he waits for the truth.

"Blake . . . ," I whisper, looking away from him.

I can't look at him. Not when I know this will be another disappointment—another notch on our belt of guilt, shame, and heartache. He was right about Blake the whole time, and I never listened. Still, Seth would have rather been wrong than for this to be the truth.

I see him in my peripheral vision, turning his hand into a fist. I had planned to tell him eventually, but after we worked through our problems—through the pain of him leaving me and the truth of my feelings for him. But instead we have to plunge into my heartache brought on by another man—a man Seth despises—without Seth knowing that I've always loved him. Who knows what Seth will do now?

# Chapter 4

### Seth

I'm going to fucking kill him. Rip off his head and feed it to the goddamn wolves. And I'll enjoy every fucking minute of it.

" _Fuck_ , Josie!" I say, finally. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me? How long have you known?"

She sighs and sits on the bed. She shouldn't be so fucking calm about this. And what the hell did she mean that she forgave him? That's _not_ a fucking option.

"I found out last year. That's why we broke up. He knew since the first year we were together, and he never told me."

"I don't understand. His last name is Porter, not Kasey. And I'm pretty sure I would remember you telling me if his dad's name is Michael." I run my fingers through my hair in frustration. Confusion. Guilt.

"His name is Michael John Kasey. I guess he's always gone by his middle name to his family. Probably why he told me his name was Michael. And Blake's mom changed all the kids' last names to her maiden name when she and Michael got divorced."

I kneel down in front of her, exasperated by her nonchalance. My eyes are pleading, searching for a shred of some kind emotion other than her blank face of indifference.

"Why didn't you tell me, Jos? Why would you keep that from me? I would've been here in an instant," I tell her truthfully, cupping her cheek as she tries to avoid my eyes.

I'm hurt. _Devastated_. I want to force her to look at me. For her to see that I love her more than any man in the world has ever loved a woman. To show her that she's _everything_ to me and I will do anything to take away the pain. I can't even imagine what she must've been going through this past year.

"I didn't know where we stood anymore, Seth," she answers, finally looking at me. "I thought we were done being friends. Or at least the part where we talk about our feelings, since we saw how well that went last time. I didn't need to burden you with anything else."

That pisses me off. I get up and walk away from her, clenching my hands. "That's so _stupid_ , Josie," I say, trying not to get mad at her. She looks up at me, her gorgeous almond shaped, dark blue eyes revealing a rare show of anguish. I see the worry lines forming around her mouth and eyes, and I know. She really did believe I wouldn't have been there for her. "I will _always_ be here for you . . . _Dammit_ , Josie! How could you think I wouldn't have been there for you?"

"Well, I don't know, Seth," she says rolling he eyes. "Maybe because you left the fucking country and only left a small fucking note! You reduced our whole eighteen-year friendship into two _goddamn_ words," she says, raising her voice in frustration.

She gets off of the bed and crosses her arms, still glaring at me. I walk into the space she's trying to keep me out of. With an inch between us, I give her a hard glare back. "You need to get over it, Josie. You know why I left. I couldn't watch you with him _._ Watch you be happy with someone I hated. You chose to be with _him._ I was _ruined_."

"You left me!"

"Because you chose _him!_ You wanted to play it safe with him instead of trying for something real with me. I couldn't look at you without feeling my heart break into pieces. I couldn't do it anymore, Josie."

"You left me . . . ," she says again quietly, her anger replaced by misery. I know that her outrage about me leaving is a front for the hurt we both felt when she chose another man over me.

Well, that might possibly be a lie. _She_ may not care that she chose him, but she destroyed me when she told me she was in love with him and not me.

"I loved you too much. Too damn much, Jos." My voice is low. Worn out from where the night has led. Sad at the reminder that she didn't love me enough to be with me—or at least love me the same way I've loved her.

" _Loved._ " Her voice has reached a whole new level of small—soft and sad. She doesn't look at me and takes a step back. I can't answer the unspoken question in her statement. There's too much to work through right now besides how hopelessly in love I am with her.

I just want her to be honest. To show those emotions she keeps buried so deep. "No more of this. No more hiding from me. Keeping things from me. Being afraid to talk to me. I promise I won't hide from you. I'll be honest the way I always should have been. Let me in."

"I'm scared to let anyone in," she admits quietly, her resolve weakening. My heart fucking hurts. Finding out the truth about Blake must have broken her even more than she already was.

"I swear to you, Josie. I won't leave again. I'm here. I've always been here. I've just been waiting . . . ." I know it's not a good enough excuse, but I say it anyway. I won't leave her alone, because she's my best friend, but more than that, I can't. No part of my being feels complete without her in my life.

"Blake said that, too . . . ," she says, her eyes getting misty. _Oh, fuck no_. No way am I going to let him get away with this. I grab her chin and make her look at me.

"I'm not Blake," I say gently, my tone warring with the rage I feel toward Blake. "I've always been here for you. I needed a break for a while, but not a day went by that I didn't think of you―that I didn't look at the stars like when we were kids, and wish we could stay friends for the rest of our lives." I loosen my grip and cup her cheek with one hand, bringing the other to her hair and leaning my forehead against hers. We're so close, sharing the same breath. "I'm here. I'm not leaving you."

For a brief moment I see the real Josie—the one who didn't have her heart broken. She licks her lips, zones in on my mouth, and leans in closer to me. I panic. All I want is to kiss her, to make her mine again, but with all of this new information, I'm not sure I can let myself have her like that. She's clearly still hurting over Blake, and I want her focus to be on me. Not him. He's always getting in the fucking way.

I pull back, trailing my fingers across her shoulder—my body screaming at me for tearing away.

"I'll be back. I just need a minute to think." I need some air. I think I see disappointment in her face, but she's gotten so good at hiding her feelings that it disappears quickly. She nods her head and flops on the bed while I walk out of her apartment.

As soon as I get outside, I lean against the brick wall. I let out a shuddering breath, trying to expel the anger, longing, desire, and every other fucking emotion that Josie brings out in me. I need to get out of here.

Hell, what I really need is to kick Blake's ass. Jogging to my truck, I get in and start it up immediately. I don't know where he lives, but I do know where his brother lives― Brandon and I still talked while I was in Europe, and he gave me his new address when he moved in with Brooke. He said he wanted me to know that I always had a place to stay when I came back.

I speed in that direction, keeping an eye out for cops so I don't get pulled over. The thirty-minute drive is shortened to twenty as I let my anger out on the gas pedal.

I can't believe I left her alone with him. I can't believe I just gave up and let him have her, knowing that there was something off with him. I _knew_ it. I always knew it.

I get out of the truck as soon as I put it into park, and then I stalk up to the front door. It's not too late, so there's no reason they would be asleep. Brandon opens the door after I bang on it relentlessly for a few minutes. His face screams weariness—droopy eyes and a resigned posture. It's almost as if he expected me to come. He steps out into the humid night and closes the door behind him

"Where is he?" I ask, skipping pleasantries today.

"Come on, dude. Just go home," he pleads. He looks the same as he did two years ago, his shaggy and wavy dark brown hair highlighted with auburn streaks. His board shorts and bright orange polo tell me his style hasn't changed much since college, a welcome observation in light of how much Josie has changed since I've come back.

Blake must be here if he's not letting me inside. "I'm not leaving until his fucking blood is all over my fist, Brandon. Don't stop me this time," I say through gritted teeth. Driven by my blood thirst, I attempt to push past him and into his house. He pushes me back.

"He's passed out drunk, Seth. That's not a fair fight and you know it. Kick his ass some other time. Fuck, _I_ would if he wasn't my brother . . . " My fist slams against the railing on the porch, wishing it was Blake's fucking nose.

I don't want to wait. I don't want to be fair when he wasn't fair to my Josie. Realization strikes me as I try to calm myself.

"Wait . . . ," I start, looking at Brandon. I walk up to him, stung by betrayal. "Did you know, too? You're fucking family. You're all related. Did you know?"

Brandon stands his ground, not in the least intimidated by me. "No, man," he says, shaking his head. "I never would've kept that a secret if I had known."

Believing him goes against the rage I feel, but I do and it forces me to calm down. I'm not sure what would have become of our friendship if I found out he knew and never told me. I lean against the railing and even out my breathing. He's right. It's not a fair fight, and I want Blake to be completely sober when I finally fuck him up.

"She never told me . . . "

"I figured. Brooke told me that you two didn't talk very much when you left, and that Josie needed to be the one to tell you." He leans on the rail next to me. "What are the fucking chances, right? I was so pissed at Blake when I found out. I'm still mad he tried to get back with her, too. And right after her dad died . . . He's such an ass sometimes."

I'm not sure I can hold in my anger much longer. The storm that was just calm rages again, infiltrating my thoughts. "What do you mean he tried to get back together with her?" I ask, voice hard and strained.

"Fuck," he says under his breath, realizing his mistake. I glare at him impatiently as I wait for his explanation. "He went to the funeral, and he stayed for the week, trying to get her back. He came back and he's been drinking nonstop. He's never coherent enough to give a straight answer about what happened. Brooke thinks Josie did something to him, but who knows. He's always fucking up that relationship . . . "

"Maybe you _should_ get in the way when I finally kick his ass, Brandon, because I swear I'm going to fucking kill him."

Who the hell does he think he is? He breaks my girl's heart and thinks he can get her back? Not happening.

I just hope she didn't fall for his bullshit again. Unfortunately, I've seen it too many times in their relationship. Her changing herself to better fit his personality. She's so much stronger than that, and yet she tried so hard to mesh into his perfect image—the girl she knew he wanted. Maybe it was her hope for something normal. Maybe she wanted to change. But I missed the girl who was opinionated and bold.

"You're going to have to be civil at some point. We've got a bunch of wedding shit coming up, and since you're back, you've got to stand up there with me."

It's funny he doesn't try to talk me out of wanting to fuck up his brother, and my lips twitch. "Can't promise you anything. I'll lay off after I kick his ass once, but if he ever messes with Josie again, don't be surprised when civility goes out the window."

"Just don't do anything around Brooke. She's super emotional lately, and I don't think she can handle any more stress," he sighs, evidently feeling the burden of her emotions.

I smile and slap him on the back. "Congrats, by the way. Josie told me y'all are expecting."

"Yeah," he says, grinning. "December I'll be a dad, and in March I'll be married. Fucking crazy."

"When I left, I never thought you two would settle down."

"Well, you've been gone for two years . . . A lot has changed. Why the hell were you gone for so long? I thought you said you would come back after a year."

"I wasn't ready yet," I say, shaking my head as I remember the night I decided to extend my contract.

I loved being a photojournalist, going to a different location every month to capture a new and vivid take on the environment or cities or landmarks. It was incredible, but it was never supposed to be a long-term job. One year. That's what I told my boss at _Indie Living_ , but then Josie's dad had given me some discomforting news and I knew I couldn't come back. "Plus the girls there were a _lot_ more adventurous than around here," I add, in an attempt to hide the heaviness of the pain I felt while I was away.

He laughs, but it's not a full laugh. He knows I'm trying to blow off my real feelings.

"How is it? Being around her now?" Brandon is my best friend besides Josie. He knew exactly how I felt for Josie back then, and he knows that those feelings haven't changed. He's the only one who knew—who noticed the way I look at her when she isn't looking, or how I always take pictures of her or sketch her without her knowing.

"I don't fucking know what to feel or do," I say after a long shuddering sigh. "She's my best friend, so it's so easy to be with her. I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not. Hell, we were just watching a movie and goofing off like old times. But it's those exact things that make me fucking crazy about her . . . " I expel a long breath. "I just don't want to rush her into anything. Her dad died a month ago, I'm not trying to mess with her emotions."

He punches me in the arm and grins. "See . . . you're way better for her than Blake."

"I'm going to fight this time, Brandon . . . It's just a matter of when I start."

There's no way I'm going to let her get away this time. 

# Chapter 5

### Josie

Seth's been gone a long time. He said he would come back, but I'm not sure anymore. He's always been so protective of me, and the guilt he felt from me being raped has never subsided completely. Learning that Blake lied about his father being my rapist could bring back that pain and put Seth in a bad place emotionally.

If I had to guess, I would say he's probably looking for Blake. I know him well enough to know he won't let this go, which worries me. I just want to forget about Blake―forget that I ever loved him and that he ever existed.

He was never supposed to hurt me. He was never supposed to break my heart. But he did, and I feel foolish.

When Seth gets back, I'll tell him everything. I don't want to let lies or dishonesty dictate my relationships anymore. I've seen the depression and deterioration it creates inside my soul, and I won't let it happen with Seth. I need to heal the broken pieces before I can be whole and complete for anyone ever again.

My first step is to be honest with Seth.

But how far does that honesty run? Is withholding the fact that I'm still hopelessly—no. Scratch that. Seth's my best friend. Nothing more.

As the minutes pass by, my anxiety increases. I sit in the big comfy blue chair in my room and concentrate on my breathing. I breathe in positive energy and breathe out the negativity that's starting to creep its way into my thoughts and mind. When I finally calm down, I hear the front door open without a knock. Panic shoots straight to my chest. My stupidity astounds me. How did I forget to lock the door after Seth left?

"It's me, Pussycat," Seth hollers from the front of my apartment. Relief instantly washes away the fear, and once again I'm grateful that Seth knows me well enough to know that he needed to announce himself.

I walk out into the hallway to meet him, but he's already barreling toward me. He grabs my hand and leads me back to my room. Lifting me by the waist, he lays me atop the mattress on my back, positioning himself next to me. Not really what my body wanted him to do, but I shouldn't be thinking along those lines anyway. My heartbeat flutters like butterfly wings inside my chest and my whole body warms.

His hand grabs mine, and he holds on tight. We lay in silence, running our thumbs across each other's skin. God, these hands! You don't realize how much you miss something like that until you're deprived of the incredible sensation for so long. Every other touch has been unsubstantial to what I'm feeling right now.

For so long, I always had Seth right next to me. I was so used to being able to run to him. To feel him whenever I wanted. How did I not notice how much I needed him? Missed him? Felt for him?

My emotions are a discombobulated mess of epic proportions, and my guilt takes over. I need him to know.

"I'm sorry, Seth," I say softly. "I'm sorry for not being a good friend. I'm sorry for ruining our friendship. I'm sorry for lying about what you and I had. I'm sorry for degrading what we did. I'm sorry for not flying to Europe the instant I found out that you left. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Blake. I'm sorry I didn't email more. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Daddy. I'm so sorry. I'm so―," sobs start to escape my mouth as I let out every apology this amazing person deserves. He pulls me into him, covering me in his arms and rubbing my back.

"Shhh, pretty girl. It's okay," he consoles me softly, running his hands through my hair and placing kisses on my head. "No more apologies. We're okay. I'll always be your best friend. I'm sorry I made you doubt our friendship, and I'm so fucking sorry for what I said to you that last time I saw you. I'll never regret falling in love with you, Josie. How can I regret the best thing I've ever felt?"

"I need to tell you everything. Everything that I've been hiding from you and everyone else. I can't keep any more secrets, Seth," I say into his chest, feeling comforted and happy about what he just told me. Those last words he said to me before he left stabbed me in a way no other person had ever been able to.

He pulls back slightly and brings his hand to my face, tracing my jaw gently. "You can tell me anything, Pussycat."

I get comfortable in the crook of his arm and lay on my side. "When you left, I was so depressed. I was cranky and moody and sad."

He has a smirk on his face, so I shove his shoulder. "What?" he asks with a chuckle. "It's just not that hard not to picture you cranky and moody . . . that's all. Continue . . . " His hand makes a flourishing gesture to keep me talking, and I breathe out a soft laugh. The reprieve from the thick emotions feels nice.

"Anyway, Blake was there for me." Seth's hand pauses briefly from its pattern of playing with my hair, but it doesn't take long before he's twirling it again in his fingers. "We got closer than we were before. He was with me when I picked out this apartment and he stayed here sometimes." I see Seth roll his eyes, but he doesn't stop me from talking. "A year ago, I thought things were great. We were happy in the only way I knew how to be with you being gone. Then I found out the truth about Blake and I realized how fake my whole relationship had been. I was waiting to meet Blake at the café and Alice—that girl Brandon and Blake know―came in. She basically said Blake was making a mistake being with me and that he had been lying to me the whole time. After she told me about how Blake knew his father was my rapist, I told him I never wanted to see him again.

"The truth hit me so hard, Seth," I admit softly. "I felt like I had no one. But it got so much worse than that―than finding out the truth. The day before that fight . . . I found out that I was pregnant." A lump filled with pain and remorse lodges in my throat and I try to swallow it away. Seth pulls his hand away, and stares at me in shock―his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. "I couldn't do it . . . I couldn't keep the baby, Seth. After a couple weeks, I went and got an abortion. And before you start judging me―"

"No, Josie," he interrupts, pulling me back to him. "You don't owe me any explanation. I completely get it. How could you keep a baby that comes from the same blood as your rapist? You probably would've resented it."

He gets me. No one has ever understood me like him. I smile sadly at him and nod my head.

"Yeah, that's exactly how I felt. I couldn't do it. I resented it already and I was only a few weeks pregnant. Daddy was the only one who knew about that. I made sure no one knew about the baby. Then Blake came back on the day of Daddy's funeral. He asked me to give him the week to show me that he still loved me, that he always did, and eventually I agreed. All week I let him back in my life and let him take over. I wanted to feel loved again, and Blake could do that for me. Toward the end of the week, we talked about all our issues and he explained why he never told me about his father. I don't agree with what he did, but I forgave him for lying to me. I was ready to move on."

"It's not okay, Josie. What he did was not okay . . . He didn't deserve your forgiveness," Seth says, clenching his jaw.

I reach out, wanting to comfort the ire I see surfacing on his face. My fingers are light against his jaw. It's the first time I've been this close to him in so long, and I feel an overwhelming sense of desire swirling in the pit of my stomach. And once I acknowledge my reaction, I'm freaking mad at myself. I'm angry that I'm acting on these feelings when I don't deserve to have them. But mostly, I'm scared and that fear forces me to pull away.

"Well, either way, I did forgive him. I was willing to make things right . . . which is why I had to tell him about the abortion. I knew he would see me differently, but I didn't expect him to walk away from me for good. He said he couldn't believe how wrong he was about me. He―," I shake my head, trying not to think about how he called me pathetic and selfish. I don't need to get into the other awful things he said. It's a burden―a truth―only I need to hold. The past few weeks I've been thinking about the abortion, wondering if Blake was right in saying that it was selfish of me. I still haven't decided. "I was devastated. And I can't decide if it's because he walked out or because I realized how awful I really am."

Seth listens intently without interrupting, but I see his mind working over everything I've said. "Josie . . . His reaction is a reflection on his awful character alone. Definitely not yours. If anything, the fact that you told him shows just how amazing you are. I'll never forgive him, but you're too much of a good person. You should _never_ waste your love on him ever again."

"I'm okay now." That's what I tell myself, at least. Another lie to myself isn't harmful to anyone else. "I feel like it all needed to happen so I could see that he really wasn't who I thought he was. So I could move on. He promised me over and over and over again that he would never let me go. He promised nothing could ever make him walk away, but he left anyway."

"That's why you're so scared I'll leave . . . ," Seth whispers, continuing to stroke my hair. "I'll make it up to you. I promise, Jos. I'll make up for all your heartache."

# Chapter 6

### Seth

When I was about twelve years old, I remember having a talk with my dad about girls.

He tried to explain that there would come a point when I would realize that a certain girl in my life would be the one I would want to spend the rest of my life with. He never specified if it was someone I already knew or someone I would meet, but he was sure that I would meet someone. He said I needed to fight every single day for her. Every single argument, accomplishment, or event would be an opportunity for me to show her that I love her. He made me promise that when I get to that point in my life, I would always keep trying and never let anything petty get in the way of proving to her that I will always be there for her.

I mean . . . I was twelve-freaking-years-old. All I was thinking about was the girls in my mom's magazines, showing cleavage and their bare legs and giving me a boner. I wasn't thinking about finding a girl to spend the rest of my life with . . . or to _love_. Even at a young age, I knew I didn't want to give up being able screw as many girls as I wanted. Certainly not so I could be with one girl for the rest of my life.

Until Josie danced with me that night, four years ago.

The night that changed _everything_ in our relationship.

I've always known Josie was gorgeous. I've known since we were teenagers, when I learned to appreciate the female body—her dark skin . . . long, thick dark hair . . . slanted eyes, ocean blue . . tiny body . . . gorgeous neck... amazing ass. I just didn't realize how her beauty affected me until that night. I wrapped my arms around her dancer-like body and everything shifted.

Ever since I was fifteen, I had wanted to hold her and dance with her. Not as he best friend... I wanted her the way she would be with a boyfriend. But I sure as hell never expected the thrill it sent through me when I finally held her that night. Her familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla became a smell I knew I couldn't live without. I breathed her in, feeling needy for the air that emanated around her.

_Everything changed._

My arm was wrapped around her stomach, and yet I felt like she wasn't close enough. The slightest touch of my fingertips grazed her skin and I thought I might pass out when I saw the goose bumps spread against her slender shoulders. I closed my eyes, breathing roughly, and just savored every second she allowed me to touch her.

I kept pulling her closer, even though there was no more space left between us. And I swear I almost came in my pants when she let out the most sensual moan and leaned her head back against my shoulder. I swallowed hard, not really understanding where the feeling of need and hunger had come from or why it was so strong.

I cherished every second that I danced with her, sure that it would end at any moment. When she turned around and faced me, I thought my heart might jump out of my chest. She reached up and pushed my hair out of my eyes, a whisper of my name escaping with her delicate breath.

Never. Never in my life had I been so affected by someone touching me. By whispering my name. I leaned my forehead against hers, and closed my eyes.

The images that assaulted my thoughts were what made me step away.

Watching Josie being raped still haunts me. Haunts my dreams. Haunts my waking thoughts. A constant reminder that she suffered something I should have stopped sooner.

At our high school graduation party, I glanced out the back entrance to see if I could find her, and I found her tiny body scraping against the asphalt as Michael pounded his body into her. My Josie, my best friend, was laying there barely hanging on to life while some brute choked her and raped her. He was so rough, so hard with her, and Josie was so weak and fragile. She jerked with each motion that he made, choking as his hand blocked her breathing.

I'll never be able to get rid of that sight. Even after I beat the shit out of the man until he was unconscious. Even after the therapy. The defense training. Nothing can dispel the anger and sorrow I still feel when I think about the moment I looked down at my best friend's body, limp against the rough ground.

She was covered in vomit, completely exposed because of her torn dress. Her body was covered in dirt and blood, scrapes on her legs, bruises along her chest and thighs, her hair matted to her head with sweat and tears. The blood, though―that blood stained against the skin between her thighs sparked a vengeance and fire within me like I had never felt.

After I called for an ambulance, I kneeled down next to her and held her in my arms, rocking her and begging her to wake up. She didn't move. No sounds of her breathing. Silence except for my cries. Even after I used my finger to clear out any vomit that may have been restricting her breathing, she didn't breathe. Tears of anger and sorrow started streaming down my face as I rocked her. I don't cry often, but I couldn't stop the grief as I held her.

"Please wake up, Josie," I begged her. In between sobs I pleaded, "Please, please, please don't leave me . . . I need you . . . I need you to wake up . . . I'm so sorry, Josie . . . I promise I won't ever let anything bad happen again, just wake up . . . Wake up. _Dammit, wake up!_ "

I didn't protect her. I was supposed to be there for her, and I wasn't. I can never forgive myself for that. She was more than my best friend. She was my other half, someone I couldn't live without. Her limp body, fragile and so, _so_ small in my thick arms paralyzed me. Destroyed me. I thought I would explode from the crushing guilt and sadness.

I needed her. I couldn't lose her. I stroked her hair, continuing to plead for her to wake up. I begged any deity to take my soul, my life, in exchange for her to live. I wanted to take the pain away and I couldn't. I couldn't do fucking _anything_. I was useless.

When the ambulance pulled up, I couldn't bear to give her up and trust her with someone else. The male EMT explained that he needed me to let go, but I couldn't. I couldn't let her go, and I cradled her tighter. She needed me. I couldn't let her down again.

"Seth, you have to let him take her," Will, Josie's dad, said to me with tears in his eyes. I looked up at him, shaking my head. No. No. No. No. Josie _needed_ me. I let her down!

"I can't," I said, whimpering as I spoke. The pain in my throat was excruciating. "I can't let her go again. What if she's not okay? What if they hurt her?" The tears never stopped. The sobbing was endless. My heart felt like it had broken into a million pieces. Spears pierced my heart from all angles. "I won't let you go. I'm here, Josie. Please wake up," I whispered to Josie, flaccid in my grip.

"They'll save her, son. You have to give her to them," Will said, crouching down next to me. A female EMT came over and knelt down too.

"You can come in the ambulance if you want, but I need to take her now. I'll take personal care of her," she assured me firmly. I felt better knowing there was a woman there to help protect her. I thought for a minute, and then relented, helping them put her on a stretcher.

I was in a daze, in a whole other world as everyone hustled to save her. I was in shock. I didn't leave her side the whole time they had her. I had to be taken away forcefully when she got to the hospital. Nothing was okay until they were able to get Josie to wake up. Nothing in this world would ever be okay if Josie didn't wake up.

And then she did. And I fell to the ground and let out every emotion that I felt. I would do _anything_ to make sure that Josie never had to go through something that painful ever again.

So four years ago, the life-changing summer before our junior year in college, when I had Josie wrapped in my arms while dancing, feeling my yearning expand with every second, I felt the guilt of that night pull me away. With my eyes closed, I saw her almost dead in my arms as I cried, unable to save her. And I knew I couldn't let myself have her. She deserved so much better than me.

After I said we should leave the party to go home, I thought she was mad that I had tried to take things further than friendship. I was afraid I'd scared her because she could only think of the last time a man had touched her.

But then she told me she wanted me. She wanted to feel how much I loved her. She wanted me to touch _her_ just as much as _I_ wanted to touch her. And when our lips finally connected, I was lost to the world that was Josie Sommers. She became my life that night, pulling me in with each graze of her soft hands. I was always gentle with her, never wanting to be a reminder of what she had been through, and I loved every stimulating second.

So... as the summer days and nights passed by, I started to understand what my dad was talking about. I understood because every fiber of my being wanted to be with Josie for the rest of my life. As my best friend, teammate, lover, and soul mate. There is no other girl that could ever compare to her.

And of course that scared the shit out of me . . . Still does.

I always hoped she would fight me on ending the fling. I had never wanted us to consider it a _fling_ , since I knew I wanted to be with her. I wanted to go back to college, call her my girl, and love on her every chance we had. I didn't want to hide anymore, but it didn't go as I had planned.

I sure as hell didn't expect her to see me getting my cock sucked by some whore I had met that night. She shouldn't have had to see that, especially since I was only doing it to try to get her off my mind.

When Josie told me that she had seen it, I knew it was all my fault she wasn't mine. My fault she never told me how she felt. My fault she clung to the first guy who showed interest in her.

I fell in love with her, my best friend, and I felt terrible that I let it turn into something she never wanted She never asked for me to change my feelings—only to feel how sex is supposed to be. And all I could think about was how she deserved so much better than me― who couldn't save her or protect her, who would never make a lot of money doing the thing I love, and whom she had seen mess around with a lot of girls.

I'm a piece of shit in comparison to her, but I refuse to give up. Because I also know that I'm someone who will go to the end of the universe to make her feel happy and protected, someone who will worship every part of her soul and body, and someone who will fight for her until the day I die.

So I fight. 

# Chapter 7

### Seth

I can't help the smile that grows on my face as I watch her move.

She doesn't know she wakes me up when she does it, but every single time she changes positions in the middle of the night, I wake up. The sun hasn't quite risen yet, but waking up because of her is worth the loss of an extra hour of sleep. Watching her situate herself while she's in a daze is quite endearing, especially when she still has her eyes closed and her hair is a big mess. She crawls to the foot of the bed, only to throw one leg and arm over the edge, and settles back down onto her stomach. She's got the other leg thrown on top of mine, and I laugh as I look at her. How can a skinny, short girl take up so much space on a bed?

I carefully reach out my hand and touch her bare leg. I hold my breath, hoping to hide the heavy breathing that started as soon as I thought to touch her. She doesn't move, so I keep my fingers right above her calf, barely grazing her. I trail the skin up to her thigh, applying more pressure as I go.

Her skin is so fucking soft, and I want nothing more than to touch her without having to restrain myself. As my fingers continue to trace her leg, I can't seem to get my fill of her. My fingertips are on fire—sparked from the tiny friction of my calloused hands against her silky smooth skin. I get bolder and trail them a bit further up her shorts. My cock twitches, and I swallow hard as my heart pounds loudly in my chest.

Josie's the only girl who could make me feel like a total bitch as I feel her up. I can make a girl come by barely touching her and still have a hard time getting my cock hard enough to fuck her, and yet Josie gets my blood pumping and my heart racing, making it so goddamn hard to breathe. My fingers graze the crease where her ass hits her thigh and I close my eyes, thrilled and hurting from being so close to her most intimate parts. A small moan escapes her lips, and my cock is raging with a full hard-on at this point. I know I have to stop, but my self-control is eluding me.

Luckily, my phone chimes with a text message, and it gives me the jolt I need to stop what I'm doing. What the hell am I thinking?

I grab my phone from my pocket and take a deep breath. The loss of connection with her is hard on me, painful. It makes me feel like I've just severed a piece of my body. I shake my hand, trying to rid myself of the ache, but it won't go away so I give up. I look at the text to find a message from my mom.

**Mom: When will you be home? Dad says he needs your help.**

**Me: I'll be there in fifteen**

If Dad needs me, then I need to be there. I don't want him doing something stupid and having another heart attack. Slowly, I start to extract myself from underneath Josie in her pretzel position, and I get out of bed. I stretch and laugh as I hear Josie groan. God, she's so fucking cute. She takes adorable to a whole new level. My phone chimes again.

**Mom: I have breakfast, does Josie want to come over?**

I walk over to Josie, and I can't decide if I want to wake her up. It's tempting to force her to wake up and tell her come over, but I know she's got things to do today, so I kneel down quietly. My lips press against her forehead and I whisper her name. She stirs and her eyes flutter. Her eyelashes are long and dark and gorgeous as they fan against her tanned skin. When her blue eyes open, I lose my breath. An ocean calling to me—begging me to go deeper and lose myself in her. The prettiest fucking eyes I've ever seen.

I smile as she grins lazily at me, slumber still in her eyes. The urge to kiss those dry pink lips overpowers my self-control and I automatically move toward her. My lips graze her mouth gently—it's so soft but invigorating at the same time. She closes her eyes again, and I go in for one last touch. Just one more. I want to know if she still wants me. My tongue traces her lips gently and I pull her top lip into my mouth.

It's so perfect. Sensual and satisfying. I pull away and her eyes remain closed, a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. That little smile, however cute and small, is all I need to live—and it's all I needed, to know when the time is right to tell her that my feelings haven't changed. To stop pretending we're only friends.

"I need to go home and help Dad with something, Pussycat. Mom says she has breakfast if you want to come over," I say softly to her. She opens her eyes again, registering my words. She's still groggy, and I wish I could stay in bed with her all day.

"I promised Dad I'd come over for breakfast," she says, sleep still evident in the way her voice cracks. I push her knotty hair back out of her face, gliding my thumb across her cheek.

"Okay . . . I'll call you later. I want to take you somewhere tonight." That gets her attention. She's instantly more alert.

"Where?" she asks, excitement in her eyes and caution in her tone. I smile and try not to let her adorability sway me into caving.

"You'll know later, pretty girl. Go back to sleep, it's still early. You have some time before you need to go to your dad's house." I kiss where her hair meets her forehead and get up. All I needed to do was mention more sleep and she easily gave up on the subject. "By the way, you need to move in with me."

She groans. I'm serious. She doesn't need to keep this place as a reminder of her failed relationship with Blake.

I grab my keys and wallet, put on my boots, and walk out into her living room. An idea strikes me as I look around and notice the lack of art on her walls, so I walk to her bookshelf. I search and find what I'm looking for on the bottom shelf. After I find what I want, I grab it and walk out the door, making sure to lock the interior lock before I leave.

My house is about twenty-five minutes away, depending on how fast you drive, so I make it in about fifteen minutes. And the whole way, I can't get the feel of her lips against my mouth out of my head.

Starved. That's what I've been for so long.

***

Montgomery Farm has been in our family for three generations. My dad was the most recent lucky bastard to take over the farming business, but even he knows that his generation will be the last to tend to the farm. Not just because I have no desire to take over—we have cousins who would be interested—but because the farm hasn't been as successful in recent years.

We aren't poor by any means, but we pretty much break even every year. Less crops are being harvested, only three workers help with the upkeep, and we're even having a harder time finding buyers for the animals we breed. Returning to the farm when I came back from Europe was a shock—fences needed mending, horse stalls and equipment weren't cleaned properly, the Montgomery sign was worn and hanging off one of its hinges. It was a testament to my dad's declining health and agility. I knew he had been struggling since his heart attack, but when I came back and saw how bad it had gotten, I realized they may be in danger of losing their farm.

Our house sits on a hill in the middle of the land, a white colonial house complete with a front porch and chipped, blue-painted shutters. Age has worn the siding, but every year, my dad tries to restore the house back to its old glamor. White Christmas lights cover the roof and sides all year long, the result of a ten-year argument in which my dad never listened to my mom when she asked him to take them down. Which Josie enjoys, because she's a Christmas-loving freak.

Attached to the side of the house is a garage my father built when I was younger, so I would have a place to practice my art and music. Above the garage is my room, cluttered with band posters and clothes and shoes. Down the hill and up another hill is the barn, which has been remodeled in the past decade so it's air-conditioned and equipped with everything horse owners need—hay loft, large tack wall, office, and twelve stalls. Behind the horse barn is another barn for the other animals we breed: chickens, cows, sheep, and goats. Our dwindling crop fields are to the left of the barns and to the right are open fields of wild billowy grass that stretch for acres until trees announce a large forest.

It's been home for years, but it's not the home I have in mind for my future—which has always in some way catered to the girl I left in bed not thirty minutes ago.

As I walk into the kitchen, Mom looks up and frowns when she sees that I didn't bring a companion. I give her a hug and rub her back as an apology. Mom's a lot shorter than I am at about five-three, and has wavy blond shoulder-length hair. Her favorite jack-o-lantern apron wraps around her slender figure, and she wears square glasses that frame her blue-green eyes. The same color as mine. She looks pretty good for being an old lady.

"She promised to eat breakfast with her dad today, Mom," I say, explaining why Josie didn't come.

She glares at me before reaching up and smacking the back of my head. "Seth! You should've brought them both over!" she reprimands.

I roll my eyes and go to the fridge to grab the orange juice.

"You better get them over here soon."

"I will. Where's Dad?" My stomach grumbles as I smell the bacon cooking on the stove. Mom turns away from me and doesn't answer, but I catch the smug glint in her eyes. I tug on her apron until she's facing me again.

"You little liar! You tricked me." I try not to laugh but it's too funny. She shrugs and pulls away.

"I miss her. She used to be over here every other day growing up, and now I don't ever get to see her," she says, sadly.

_Way to make me feel guilty, Mom._ If I hadn't left, then Josie would have been around more these past couple years. Although, that's not necessarily true since Blake probably would have held her back.

"I know, Mom." I grab a cup from the cabinet. "Hopefully she'll be coming around more."

"Good. She's like a daughter I never had." As she responds, I lean against the cabinet next to the stove and smile at her.

"Aww, I'm not good enough?" She shoves my shoulder, spilling some of my orange juice on the floor.

"Yeah, she's not as messy as you," she admonishes.

I grab paper towels to clean up the mess. "I'm getting better. See, I didn't even ask you to clean that up . . . and you're the housekeeper, right?"

"You're asking for it, boy." She smacks me with her dish towel and I laugh as I walk out into the living room. Family is another thing I didn't realize I missed so much until I was gone for so long.

Dad's already sitting down in his recliner reading the newspaper. He's wearing huge reading glasses as he tries to solve the crossword puzzle that he's never able to fill out entirely.

"Five letter word for someone who spends the night with the love of his life and doesn't even bring her with him when he comes to breakfast the next morning?" he asks, still looking at the paper.

"You know it's not that simple, Dad." I flop onto the brown leather couch across from him.

"Ah! _Idiot_! Something about you walking into the room made me think of that," he says, looking up at me with a wry smile.

I roll my eyes, but still let out a light laugh. "I'll bring her over next weekend."

"You better . . . and I actually do need your help today. One of the horses got spooked by the storm the other night and messed up the stall door."

"Which one? Kitten?" She gets scared pretty easily during thunderstorms.

"Yup."

"Will she be good for riding later?"

Dad looks up at me and smiles. "Oh yeah, she's fine." He gets up from his chair and I get up with him. He always knows when a meal is ready. He and Mom seem to have a telepathic connection. He clasps my shoulder proudly. "Now you're thinking."

He knows things before they even happen-- it's annoying. I look at my father, who has always been the person I wanted to be when I grew up, and I feel a sense of warmth at being home. He stands about an inch shorter than me and has brown hair that is getting washed away by growing greys. He's still in great shape, even though he has settled down much more in the last four years. Makes me feel a little better about how I'll look when I'm older.

"So what did you guys do last night?" Mom asks when we all settle down at the table. I oscillate whether or not I should tell her about what Josie revealed to me. I'm close to my parents but even my desire to vent about what she said doesn't justify disrespecting her privacy. It's not my story—not my place—to ever utter a word about what happened to Josie last year.

"We went to a self-defense class, and then we went to Will's grave," I say, shoveling a forkful of eggs in my mouth. They both look up, curious about how that went. "It was fine. I said my good-byes, which was hard, but it's even harder for Josie. You should've seen her. It was like she wasn't even on the same planet. She was gone. She asked for some time alone with him. I guess she did well though, considering she just buried him a month ago. Anyway, we went back to her apartment and watched a movie and talked."

"I still can't believe it," Mom says sadly, referring to Will's death. None of us can.

When I came home a couple weeks ago and Mom told me what happened to Will, I was shocked silent. I dropped to the couch heavily and buried my head in my hands. Will was so much more than my best friend's dad. He was the one who got me through two years of being away from Josie. The one who helped me pull myself together when all the drinking and girls failed to help.

Shaking off the somber reminder, I change the subject. We continue our breakfast, talking about my travels in Europe and how the farm has been running since I've been gone. All the while, my focus is on Josie and those damn perfect lips that I want to take advantage of tonight. 

# Chapter 8

### Josie

How can I _still_ feel this way about my best friend?

How can one simple—luxurious—kiss make my insides go crazy and keep my thoughts muddled for the rest of the day?

When I was with Blake a few weeks ago, I thought it was my last shot. My time to accept the relationship we could have. Which was good. Blake loved me and I loved him, and three weeks ago, I wanted to be with him.

But how could I forget Seth? How did he not cross my mind? How could I _possibly_ think someone else could compare to the way he makes me feel?

Deep down, I know it's more than that. Seth wasn't an option. He's always been this fantasy that I couldn't reach because too much could go wrong. At first, I was afraid of ruining our friendship by admitting I was in love with him. Then I realized that even if he felt the same way, the heartbreak I could face if I couldn't hold on to him would destroy me.

So I let myself forget. _Forced_ myself to forget, because it hurt too much to dwell.

I forgot how it felt to be with him that first time four summers ago—passionate and honest and beautiful.

I forgot how I never wanted to see him with another girl. Blocked out the remnants of every kiss he ever gave me. Never let my thoughts linger on the way my heart hurt in my chest every time he sent an intimate look my way. And most of all, I pushed away the love that simmers beneath my skin just because he's Seth—my best friend and my other half.

I forgot I loved him.

I fell in love with him for the gentle way he handled me that first night he made love to me. For the way he makes me laugh. For the sensations that prickle beneath my skin when he touches me. For the way he holds me at night—whether to protect me from my nightmares or for assurance that I'm not alone.

I've been missing out. All these months of repressed emotions, and I'm just now realizing how desperate I am to _feel_ again. Because of this morning.

We both know what that kiss meant—the truth behind our lips showed just how much we both still care. I'm still worked up over his touch, and it's been hours since Seth left my apartment.

But the voice that made me choose Blake over Seth two years ago nags and torments every fantasy I have of a future. If I were to pursue these feelings, admit to Seth that it's always been him, then I could— _would_ —end up with a severed heart.

And what more of my heart is there left to shatter?

How am I supposed to give him my entire heart if the ashes of my soul are scattered from every heartache I've experienced? I'm slowly trying to repair myself, but there's no guarantee that I will ever be whole again. Worse than the pain of a broken heart, worse than the loss of my best friend is the fear that I wouldn't be able to give him my whole being—my whole heart and soul, which Seth deserves more than anyone.

But I'll be damned if that brief kiss, so delicious and slow, didn't make me feel whole. I would give him the world if it meant enjoying more kisses like that.

So basically, I have no idea what to think or do.

"Come on, Josie. Pay attention to what you're doing," Dad's deep, raspy voice says grumpily, pulling my thoughts away from Seth for the hundredth—nay, millionth—time.

Today isn't a good day for him. For the last couple of weeks, I thought Dad had been doing better. Every time I called or came over, he seemed to be pulling himself out of the dark pits of despair and starting to live again. He went back to work, and I think that really helped.

But with so many good days, there has to be bad days too.

"I got it, Dad," I say, getting frustrated. I've dropped that damn bolt three times since I started trying to tighten it. "Your big hand can't even fit in there, so don't give me any crap."

We're working on the Barracuda today, which is why I think he's in such a foul mood. Taking the time to work on it instead of mourning the loss of his partner is hard for him to accept. He doesn't think he should be doing something recreational when the love of his life is gone.

But _I_ wanted to work on it today. Working on a car has always been a good meditative practice for me, and right now, I can use as much clarity as I can get.

How can I stop this growing desire to be with Seth? Maybe I need a sign. Something that'll let me know if I should give this whole thing a chance—or something that tells me I need to let it go for good.

"Got it," I breathe out, relieved that the bolt tightened. "Let's hear it."

Dad sits in the reupholstered tan leather front seat and revs the V8 engine. Pride prickles my stomach, and I look to see Dad beaming at me from inside the car. Some cosmetics still need to be addressed, but the car is running and sounds glorious. A project we've been working on for years is coming to a close.

A shriek sounds from my throat and I twirl around doing my trademark happy dance. Dad's laugh cuts me off, and I take him in. Sad eyes. Sad smile. Sad laugh. But also proud and wary to be happy. He wraps me in a hug and holds me tight. It's bittersweet. We want to celebrate our accomplishment, but we want to share it with our biggest supporter. Daddy was always there to call us to lunch or dinner when Dad and I would spend hours fixing the car, and he always kept up to date on what we were doing, even though he had no interest in cars.

"Well done, Josie Bean."

"I learned from the best," I say, pulling away. We clean up our tools and wash our hands before we head back into the house.

"I might need your help at the shop this summer."

I look over at him, noticing the visible worry lines around his eyes. I should have caught on sooner to the trouble he must be having at work lately. Running an auto shop by himself while grieving can't be easy.

"No problem, Dad. Whenever you need me."

We make our way to the kitchen, where I have dinner ready in the crockpot. The first thing Dad asked when I walked in this morning was where Seth was. No "hey baby girl" and no "good morning." Just _"Well, where's Seth?"_ Knowing I had spent the night with Seth, Dad was upset I didn't invite him over for breakfast. I rolled my eyes, not believing the serious look of disappointment on his face.

Simply to appease my father, I decided to text Seth and ask if he could come over for dinner―which had nothing to do with me and the fact that I want him here. Touching me. Holding me. Kissing me . . . I sigh aloud as I get wrapped up in the images. I got a text almost immediately saying that he would be here around five.

Dad helps me set the table, getting three plates, cups, and forks ready. The mundane tasks help abate the growing anticipation and anxiety about tonight. There's nothing strange about asking your best friend to come over, but there _is_ something daunting about asking the person who makes you feel alive for the first time in years to come over.

Intimidating because it's probably too soon for me to admit that I'm still crazy in love with him. Too soon after Blake left me stranded in my room and too soon after Seth came back. I see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He remembers that night two years ago—the night that should have been the most amazing night of his life. The night I chose Blake instead of him and broke his heart in the process. The night he called me a cold-hearted bitch.

The front door creaks loudly and my heart has suddenly been pumped with adrenaline. Seth's been to my house a million times, so I _know_ my reaction is ludicrous. Rolling my eyes at myself, I start scooping out globs of tater tot casserole onto the plates.

"Where are you, Kitty Kitty?" Seth coos when he enters the house. He knows it annoys me when he calls me that, but that doesn't stop him. I groan.

"In here, and stop calling me that!" I yell from the kitchen. Dad chuckles lightly as he gets ice water for each seat. I look at him and soften at the small smile on his face. I'd let Seth call me that any day if it gets Dad to smile again.

"Aw, what's the fun in that, Pussycat?" Seth says as he enters the kitchen. I purposely don't look at him, not wanting to betray my annoyance. And I really don't want him to see how nervous I am.

Once I finish putting food on the last plate, I no longer have a reason not to face Seth. Grabbing two plates and turning around slowly, I give Seth a playful glare. He's leaning in the doorframe of our kitchen, sandy blond hair swept to the side, hands in his pockets, boots crossed at his ankles, and the sexiest smirk playing on his lips as he looks at me. My grip tightens on the plates I'm holding, completely nonplussed by the effects of his smile on me, and I look away, gulping down the desire. I stick my tongue out at him when he sits down next to me, and he laughs.

"I can think of a lot of things that tongue could be doing other than that, pretty girl," he says, leaning in and wiggling his eyebrows while my dad is washing his hands.

I scrunch up my nose and shove his shoulder, even though the thought sends a jolt of pleasure in the bottom of my stomach. I can't help the smile that starts on my mouth, and I bite my lip trying to hide it from him. This only garners an even bigger smile on Seth's face.

"Yeah like putting it in a blender," I say sarcastically. His body is so close to mine, absorbing every word I say. Devouring me with his eyes.

"Ha!" he barks.

My Dad walks to the table to sit down. "What are you laughing about?" he asks.

Seth pulls away from our close conversation and I have to fight disappointment. "Jos says she'd rather eat dog shit than kiss me," Seth answers shrugging his shoulders.

I stare at him with my mouth wide open in shock. Where does he come up with these things?

My dad laughs and looks at us, eyes going back and forth. "Yeah, right . . . because you two haven't already kissed a million times already," he says flippantly, taking another bite of his food.

I turn my surprised gape toward him, even more shocked by his response. Seth just starts cracking up laughing, and I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. Certainly not at my kitchen table with my Dad―who hates any boy touching me―laughing about me kissing Seth. What the hell is going on? Dad sees my startled look, "What? You didn't think we knew?"

"No!" I exclaim, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. How did he know? Seth never mentioned it to anyone, so I never mentioned it to anyone, either!

"Oh, everyone knew," Dad says with a rueful smile. Damn my happiness at seeing him laugh. I'm beyond flustered.

I look at Seth and he's grinning at me—small and knowing. I see his thoughts running a marathon behind his eyes, and I release a long and slow breath when he reaches out and lightly touches my cheek. That one touch is all it takes for my embarrassment and shock to dissolve into a longing that is so strong my heart aches in response. He's pensive for a moment longer, eyes boring into mine, and then he drops his hand.

Dad changes the subject and starts talking about the car, but I don't pay much attention.

Mid-conversation, Seth's pinky grazes the side of my leg delicately. It could easily be mistaken as an accident, but I don't think it is. My breath catches in my throat as he touches the bare skin on my thigh, and I shift in my seat, feeling uncomfortable from the amount of desire that's flooding my insides. Seth's hand comes back and this time, he keeps it resting on the top of my leg. I take a deep breath, trying to control myself, but my blood is boiling.

At first his hand is still, maybe in an attempt to give me the opportunity to move it, but that's useless. I have no desire to move it. Then he makes patterns on the inside of my leg with one finger, leaving a trail of scorching fire in its path. I break out in goose bumps and pull my arms between my legs to try and hide it, rubbing them as if it will obscure the intense reaction I'm having.

The barely-noticeable deep sound Seth makes is the only indicator that he likes my reaction to him. Growing confident, he starts kneading me more fiercely. He never falters in his conversation with my Dad, and I'm so glad they aren't asking me any questions, because I'm pretty sure my mind is too scrambled to form a complete sentence. I open my mouth, gasping and trying to get a good breath, but it's impossible when his hand keep playing with the skin right at the hem of my shorts.

He releases a haggard breath, one that doesn't disrupt his conversation with my dad and he slows his movement. His fingers glide to the center of my lap and grabs my hand in his. His grip is firm but gentle, gently stroking my skin and bringing my emotions from a sensual level to a more comforting level.

We eat the rest of our dinner holding each other's hand, and for the first time in two years I begin to feel a fragment of my soul being repaired.

There's a difference in this Seth I'm seeing tonight. There's more confidence in him, and I don't mean the cocksure attitude he has with other women―I mean with me specifically. Like he knows what he wants now. It's also evident in how he helps me clean up the kitchen when we're finished. The old Seth would have joked his way out of it, and I would have been right there with him with an obscene excuse to get out of chores. We've both changed these past two years.

Dad tells me he wants to take a shower and go to bed early, so it's just Seth and me. And I'm more curious about where he wants to take me tonight than I've let on.

"Go put on some jeans and bring a bathing suit," Seth says after putting away the last of the dishes.

"Are we going swimming?" I ask, getting excited. I haven't been swimming in . . . well, since Seth left. Another thing on the infinite list of reasons why I love Seth Montgomery is how we've never needed anything extravagant to have a great time.

He cracks a smile and swats my butt, not acknowledging my questioning. "Just go get dressed."

Luckily, I keep some clothes and shoes in my old room, and I change into a bathing suit and jeans. He must want to do some kind of activity if he wants me to wear jeans in the summer, so I grab my cowgirl boots to wear. I skip back downstairs and find Seth looking at pictures collecting dust on the mantel. In his hand, he's holding a picture of the two of us when we were kids. Without turning to look at me, Seth places an arm around my shoulder as soon as I'm beside him.

"You were such a brat back then." We were about seven or eight years old in the picture, in the backyard at my house. Dirt covered the both of us, and we looked like we had been wrestling again.

"I was not."

"Yes you were. You were so bossy."

I suppose that's true, but with Seth I've never had to pretend to be anything but myself. If I had an attitude, he gave me one back. If I was being unreasonable, he made sure I knew I was being ridiculous. He always fought back, and it worked with us.

I shrug my shoulders. "You shouldn't have been such a pussy." He laughs deeply and tugs me closer to him. His laugh slides like silk against my skin and I close my eyes briefly to absorb it.

"I love that fucking mouth of yours," he mumbles into my hair. My breath catches, and I squeeze my thighs together.

"Yeah?" I ask, biting my lip.

He rests two fingers under my chin and tilts my face up to look at him, pulling my lip from my teeth. "Yeah," he whispers.

My gaze slides to his mouth and craving claws at me. Without thinking, I lean into him, eyes ever-so-focused on the goal of kissing him. A throaty moan sounds from his mouth, and my advance is stopped when he leans his forehead against mine.

We both close our eyes, not sure if we should move the rest of the distance between us. Our breaths combine, heated desire becoming a cloud in our faces. I can't look at him, afraid that with one more look I will give him anything he wants—that I'll show him I want to spend the rest of my life loving him.

His fingers twine in my hair, tugging and smoothing and creating electric heat in the middle of my thighs. I'm begging him to kiss me—I know he can feel the thrum of my fast heartbeat as much as I can feel his through his thin shirt. But _he_ needs to do it. I don't deserve him, and I can't just take what I want from him anymore.

With a small groan, Seth pulls away and kisses the top of my head. "Come on, let's get goin' before it gets too dark."

My chest aches with insurmountable pain. This solidifies what I already knew. I'll never deserve him. I'll never be able to make up for the pain I put him through. How could I possibly entertain the idea that he would want me? For what? So I can break his heart again? He doesn't want me. Not really. He's seen the real me—the terrible bitch I've turned into.

So now, I do what I always do. I rebuild those few bricks I took down around my heart and lock in my emotions. I can't fight for something I'm not worthy of.

# Chapter 9

### Seth

I'm such a dick. Pussy. Asshole. All of the fucking above.

I want that girl more than I want my next goddamn breath, and I didn't even kiss her when she was practically begging for it. I wanted to crush myself against her and show her what she's been missing. But the claws of the truth dug into my chest and pulled me away. She had the chance to be with me two years ago and decided I wasn't good enough for her or her perfect life.

But it was _two years ago._ It's time to move the fuck on. I'd rather have my heart broken a million fucking times over than miss out on one more single kiss.

Hiding the flash of dejection on her face, Josie follows me to my truck so I can take her out. Is this a date? I've never had a girlfriend, never dated anyone before. Will she consider this special enough to be seen as a date? Nervousness I'm not accustomed to weighs on my chest, and I half want to punch myself in the balls and half want to beg her to be my girlfriend. I'm so fucking screwed.

When I pull up to my house, I take a moment to run my eyes over Josie. A green tank top hugs her small chest and waist, blue bikini straps molding to the curve of her collarbone. Blue jeans that have seen the dryer one too many times cling to her incredible legs. Dark brown hair falls to the middle of her back, just the way I like it—loose, wild, and unrestrained—and her face holds very little makeup.

She's fucking perfect. And even though it's clear she's been working in the garage all day, I could take her to the fanciest place in town and know she's the most elegant and gorgeous woman in the room.

She blushes as I look at her and turns to look at the barn in the distance. Smudges of black grease stain the back of her neck—a spot she likes to rub when she's concentrating on fixing the car. Another bullet in the list of things I love about this girl. Or maybe the list that turns me on when it comes to Josie—having her naked in my bed with streaks of oil on her skin.

But the thing I love about her the most is that she doesn't complain that I've taken her to my childhood home for us to spend time together. She doesn't need to be taken to a fancy dinner to be happy, and I fall in love with her all over again as I watch her eyes light up when we park.

"Ready?"

She whips her head back to me, lush hair covering half her face and filling my senses with the smell of her spearmint shampoo. She bites the bottom corner of her lip as she smiles, trying to hide some of her excitement, but I know her too well. She finally lets out a little squeal, the cutest fucking sound ever, and jumps in her seat.

"Do I get to ride Kitten?" she asks, eagerly.

Kitten is the horse I kind of got and named for her. I say _kind of_ because Josie doesn't actually know that the horse is hers. I got it for her the summer that we started our fling-- an outlet for her to let go of some of the turmoil that she tries to hide. I just told her it was a new horse that we got, chickening out of explaining to her that I feel like the beauty and wild strength of the horse are the very things that I adore in her. She fell in love with Kitten as soon as she first rode her.

"Yep. Thought we could take a ride, since you haven't been here to ride her since I've been gone," I say, getting out of the truck.

Josie walks up to me, still grinning, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders as we walk to the barn. She fits perfectly in my embrace, curves all finding their right spots when she's against me. Before we walk down the hill to get to the barn, we both pause and give each other a _look._ Mischievousness lights her eyes, and it's no surprise when she pulls away.

"Last one to the barn is a rotten egg!" she yells, racing down the hill. I knew she was going to do that, and I'm on her heels in an instant. My long legs make it easier to cover more distance, but she always thinks she can beat me. She turns her head toward me as I start jogging next to her, hair in her face. She stumbles, so I instantly reach out and grab her before she hits the ground. She's already falling when I grab her hand and pulls me with her.

Rolling the rest of the way down the hill, we become a tangled mess of laughter and dizziness. She ends up on top of me when we come to a stop at the bottom, both her hands bracing against my heaving chest and both of us breathing fast.

I know I can't breathe from being this close to her, but what about Josie? Does she feel anything?

All I know for certain is that I fucking love her hands on me. My hands grip her hips tightly, urging her to get closer to me. Her eyes are wild with a blend of excitement and something I can't quite put my finger on. She leans her face toward mine, breathing her sweet breath in my face. My heart's on the verge of explosion. Her nose touches mine, and I get ready to close the distance between us—not willing to let another moment pass me by.

"I win," she whispers, and takes one of her arms and reaches it out past me. She starts cracking up laughing, and rolls off of me.

She thinks she's so goddamn funny, but my hard cock and I think she's cruel. But even if I wanted more, nothing can compare to the sound of Josie laughing. She giggles so hard, gripping her stomach as she lets herself be free for a moment. This is all I ever want—to see her laughing and happy and _alive_ , even when the world around her is dark and cruel. Laughing with her, I reach out and give her my hand to help her up.

We walk to Kitten's stall first. Josie walks in and the horse enraptures her instantly. Josie gracefully places her hand on Kitten's nose, speaking to the horse in hushed tones. I lean against the wooden entrance, incapable of looking away. She lets the horse get to know her again, and I see Kitten relax while Josie strokes her.

"I'm sorry I haven't come by lately," Josie says to the horse tenderly, grabbing the saddle from outside the stall. "I promise I'll come back and bring you a big treat this week." Her sweet whispers warm my insides. Why does she have to be so adorable? My heart constricts in my chest, a painful longing and need consuming my emotions. I force myself to look away and go to my horse.

Sometimes it hurts to look at her. I've never been so sure about anything in my life than I am about wanting to spend the rest of my life with her, and every second that she's not mine is an aching reminder that she still hasn't chosen me.

My horse, Ash, is an American Paint horse with a chestnut brown coat and splotches of white across his body. My dad got him for me when I was about ten years old, which explains why I named him after a Pokémon character. I saddle him up and place his silver-adorned bridle over his head. I walk him out into the corral, and Josie follows with Kitten, looking like a fucking goddess on top of the majestic creature.

Josie's horse is an Appaloosa, white with black spots. Josie's a natural on the horse, never needing any instruction on how to handle the ride, so I open the gate and walk out Ash and wait for Josie. After I lock up the gate, I climb onto my horse and trot up next to her.

"Thought we could ride to the back part of our farm and then take the trail in the woods," I tell her. I know I chose the right thing to do when she graces me with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. My breath catches, and my heart stops for a moment.

"I'll meet you at the woods," she says and makes her horse canter into the open field with a swift kick. I'm not far behind her, enjoying the view of her being free—hair whisking in the country air, thighs tightening around the saddle.

For too long I watch her ass lift up and down on her seat, jeans stretched as far as they can. Shaking my head and groaning, I get Ash to gallop into the field. The last thing I need is a hard dick while I'm on the back of a fucking horse.

A calming peace settles over me as we clear the land, something rare that I experience only in Josie's arms or on the back of a horse. After Josie was raped and almost died, I would ride for hours every day. I can't erase my guilt. I can't make everything disappear. But for a few minutes, I can sedate the pain.

We slow down as we approach the wooded area on our land. Josie's face is one of pure relief and contentment when I look at her. I grin and trot ahead to start on the trail. She sidles next to me and her eyes devour the lush green of the trees and wild grass. Dead leaves scatter the ground, worn in from the many times my parents and I come out here.

"Thank you, Seth," she says quietly, still looking ahead.

"It's nothing, Pussycat."

"It's not _nothing_. You have no idea what this means to me." She looks so serious, her eyes filled with sincerity when she finally looks at me.

"You have no idea what _you_ mean to me, Jos," I say back.

She'll never understand. She stays silent after I say that, lost in thought. When she finally speaks again, it's a bit of a disappointment. Certainly not as revealing as I hoped.

"So where was your favorite location to shoot while you were away?"

"That's hard." I pause to think. "I loved this place in Switzerland. Lauterbrunnen. It wasn't extravagant, and that's exactly what I loved about it. It was almost like a village stuck in time. They have like seventy-two waterfalls there. It was amazing to capture—the angles, the reflection of the water and mist. You would've liked it." I went to a lot of places, but that place stuck out because it reminded me so much of Josie. I knew as soon as I got there, Josie would love it—the peaceful atmosphere, the village and cottages, and the railway. It'd be a reading heaven for her.

"It sounds amazing. I liked the pictures you took in Barcelona. I want to go there," she says, surprising me.

"I didn't know you saw my publications." She slices me with an incredulous look.

"Are you dumb?" she asks with a shake of her head and a light laugh. "There's no way I would miss your pictures being published, Seth. I've always loved your photographs. Always."

"I didn't know," I say almost to myself. I didn't think she would ever want to keep up with me after the way I left. I called her a bitch. I left her two weeks later without telling her. Why would she forgive me? Why would she care about what I was doing?

I had thought for sure that she would never want to talk to me again. I certainly never expected that first e-mail she sent me when I was in Europe. I remember having my laptop in my bed, checking my e-mail while I had some girl sucking my dick. Her message popped up and my breath caught—it had nothing to do with the clueless girl going down on me. "I miss you," was all she said, but it was more than I could've ever asked for. I kicked the girl out immediately and let myself suffer alone in the memory of my best friend.

Now, silence settles between us as we ride through the woods. I remember the agonizing loneliness of being away from her for two years. Guiding Ash to the right, I start on a different trail. Josie's confused but follows me until we clear through the trees and see a lake.

"Oh my god!" she says excitedly. "I completely forgot about this!"

"I figured." I laugh and get off Ash.

The lake was always a place for Josie and me to get away. From our parents, school, life. We'd camp here in the summer, cooling off in the water on the too-hot-to-live days.

We tie the horses to the post Dad built, and walk to the pier. I lift my shirt over my head, right in front of her, taking my time and hoping to see a reaction I like.

I do.

She sucks in a breath and her eyes travel across my arms, chest, and stomach. She never was very good at hiding it when she was checking me out. That obviously hasn't changed. Her eyes heat up and glaze over with a look of desire I know very well, making me want to take her right here in the damn woods. I smirk and raise my eyebrow when she finally reaches my eyes. She swallows and averts her gaze.

"I show you mine, you show me yours," I say, repeating the words I said our first time together.

Blushing, she turns around and takes off her tank top.

I check her out slowly. My eyes zone in on the small string resting across her perfectly tanned bare back, and my dick twitches in my shorts. My throat tightens and I hold my breath as I stare at her. I get completely hard when she finally looks at me, turning her head slightly and glancing at me over her shoulder, hair covering half her face.  Her eyes scream sex. She acts like she's shy and innocent, but it's the sexiest fucking look I have ever seen.

I walk up to her, heart banging against my chest, and gently run my fingers across her back. I trail them until I'm standing in front of her and rest my hand on her hip. My look asks her is she's okay with me touching her and I see no fear and all desire staring back. I trace my gaze down the front of her body, her tiny light blue bikini contrasting beautifully against her light brown skin. Her small breasts fill the cups perfectly, showing enough cleavage to make my mouth water with need.

I want to taste her skin, smell the vanilla that seeps through her pores up close. I imagine my tongue leaving its mark on her and making her mine, branding her so no one could ever touch her again. Sliding my gaze lower, I look at her perfectly flat stomach, only tiny curves around her ribs. On her right hip is a small pear-shaped birthmark.

If she only knew what I want to do to her right now. If my guilt and self-control didn't hold me back, I would take her right here on this pier—not giving her a second to think when I rip off her jeans and bend her over to fuck her.

But I reign in those thoughts, knowing I could never be like that with her. She deserves to be worshiped and loved, not mauled, by someone who loves her.

I take my hand off her hip, knowing that the close contact with her is driving my mind into territory that we aren't ready for, and take off my jeans. I swear my fucking hand hurts as soon as I leave her.

The outline of my very hard arousal is visible through the material of my swim shorts. She takes off her boots and her jeans are all that's left. I'd like for there to be nothing underneath those jeans, but I'll take a bikini any day. Her eyes travel to the obvious bulge in my bathing suit, and I love the gulping sound she makes.

This is the girl I've been dreaming about at night for years. She consumes my every waking thought and preoccupies every single dream. I wake up in the middle of the night with a rock-hard cock, clutching the sheets, hoping I'll find the one person who can help me.

She lights the darkness I escape to when my ominous thoughts become unbearable, and she helps me smile and keep trying when all I want to do is give up.

And in those moments in the middle of the night, when sweat clings to my body as if I'm on the brink of death and I'm dominated by starvation for her touch, only _she_ can elicit the satisfaction that no one else can.

She is _everything._

She doesn't put on a show of taking off her pants like most girls would have, but she doesn't need to either. When she comes to full height, I can't turn my eyes away from the small scrap of fabric that's covering the exact place I want to be buried in.

It's too much. This. This _need_. It's consuming me. I can't function.

Thinking on my feet to distract us from the sexual tension, I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, laughing as she squeals. Running to the end of the pier, I jump into the water, making a big splash when we both hit the surface.

The squeezing of her ass was most certainly _not_ accidental.

When her head comes back up, she gasps and gives me an evil glare that may have worked if I didn't think she was so fucking cute. I try to swim away from her, but her arms are quick and she assaults me with a big splash. I turn my head away and splash her back. She catches me off guard when she pulls herself onto my back and brings her arms over my head. The girl I love is half-naked on my back—that's _all_ I'm thinking about. My vulnerability earns me waves of water in my face.

She's good.

I plunge myself under the water with her on my back, and she lets go after a few seconds of being submerged. She likes swimming, but she hates being under water for any length of time.

I'm better.

"You suck," she says when I come back up for air.

I laugh at her angry face—adorable in every way she's trying not to be. She has no idea what she does to me. She has no idea how everything about her―her laugh, her smile, her anger, her feistiness, her facial expressions―makes me fall for her even harder. "Come on, Pussycat. You know you love it."

She reclines and floats on her back. I swim up next to her and grab her hand. The sky is a navy blue with splashes of burnt orange from the setting sun. There's this moment of peace that engulfs me as I look at the sky with Josie floating next to me. The weights of the world―our relationship, Blake, and her dad's passing―all slip away, and I know without any doubt that this is what life could be like with Josie by my side every day. 

# Chapter 10

### Seth

We float and swim for another hour or so before getting out. The horses look antsy, so I let them off of the post to roam the vicinity. After I pull out the snacks, a blanket, and a speaker, I throw Josie a towel. Of course she misses catching it thanks to her zero athletic skills, and she glares when I snicker.

But then she dries herself off, and I find it hard to function again. Trying to avert my thoughts, I lay out the blanket on the ground and open all the containers that hold our food. It's not much, just peanut butter sandwiches, chips, fruit, and carrots, but I thought she might like a snack after the swim.

"Did you make this?" Josie asks after she puts her jeans and tank top back on over her bathing suit. Can't say I'm not disappointed that she didn't stay in her bikini for the rest of the night, but I'll take her company in any form.

"Would you really believe me if I told you I did it all myself?" I ask, smiling derisively as I turn on the Bluetooth on my iPhone so we can listen to the music on the speaker. She laughs under her breath, obviously coming to the conclusion that I didn't make it.

"Yeah, I guess I wouldn't."

"What?" I exclaim. "I _did_." Her surprised look earns her a quick wink. "It's nothing fancy. Just peanut butter and jelly, Jos. I can make a sandwich."

"You _always_ have your mom make your food!"

"I'm a brand new Seth, Pussycat. I think you'll love me even more now." I spread my arms wide.

She looks at me and cocks her head to the side, showing off her delicate neck. I want to bury my face in that neck, nipping and kissing until she's unable to form a coherent sentence. She looks introspective, and I can tell she's analyzing what I said. It's probably a longshot, but I want to show her I can be good enough for her.

"Hmmm . . . ," she says simply, before grabbing a piece of fruit.

I have to resituate myself as I watch her mouth cover the strawberry, sucking out the juices and then biting into it. But then red juice starts trickling down her mouth and onto her chin, and I don't think I can hold myself back from touching her any longer. Unable to stop myself, I reach out and grasp her chin gently. I search her eyes, entranced, and slide my finger down her chin to gather the dribble. I lick the juice off my finger.

My eyes never leave hers and we seem to be in a daze, staring and searching into each other's souls, both of us trying to communicate through this look. I want her to know that I still want her more than I have ever wanted anyone. That I need her to be mine. That it's impossible for me to stop loving her. I open my mouth so I can say it out loud, but she breaks eye contact and grabs my iPhone.

"Remember when we would bring your old boom box and have our own dance parties out here?" she asks.

A shuddering breath escapes my lips, but I cover it up by leaning back on my arms and smiling. "Yeah. You're a terrible dancer."

She gives me an appalled look, mouth agape, eyes wide, and I laugh. " _You_ , Seth Montgomery, are not much better!"

I cock my eyebrow at her and give her a knowing smile. "You and I both know that's not true, pretty girl."

She rolls her eyes in typical Josie fashion and bites into her sandwich. "Whatever. Are you going to Brooke and Brandon's engagement party tomorrow?"

Brandon had asked me last night to stop by the party since I was back, but I haven't decided if I'm going. "Are you?" I ask.

"Of course I'm going."

"Then I'll be there." I'm not particularly looking forward to it, since there's a big chance Blake will be there and I will have to kick his ass, but if there's any opportunity for me to hang out with Josie, then I sure as hell am not going to pass up on that.

"Thank you," she says, tone small.

And it hits me then that she's dreading it just as much as I am. She'll have to be around the man who broke her heart twice. Who the fuck leaves someone like Josie for making a choice that she felt was the right thing to do? To me, it makes no sense—I would do anything to have Josie tell me she's in love with me.

"It'll be okay, Josie. I won't let anyone hurt you," I vow. There's a small smile on her lips that shows she's doubtful, and it fucking kills me.

Maybe she's right. When have I ever been able to keep her safe? I couldn't protect her from being raped. I couldn't protect her from Blake and his bullshit mind games. And I wasn't here for her when her dad died. What reason does she have to trust me?

Suddenly, I can't look at her without feeling like shit, so I clench my jaw and refuse to look in her direction. A knifing pain hits my throat, constantly stabbing me as a reminder that I'm worthless.

As the sky darkens around us, so too does my mood. I thought I could just try to be good enough for her, but it's more than that. She can't trust me, and that's not easily fixed. My chest tightens with regret and apprehension. I'll never be able to prove I'm good enough for her. I'll never be able to show her that we're made for each other.

She changes the song to Macklemore's "Can't Hold Us," and I see her get up in my peripheral vision. A smile stretches on my face as I watch her dance and shake her butt to the song. She stares at me while she does the running man—or a poor version of it, at least.

"Come on, Sethy Poo! Dance with me!" she yells, closing her eyes and spinning in a circle. And just like that, Josie Sommers turns my whole depressing world, glutted with qualms and misery, into one of calmness and optimism. She continues to give me reason to live.

Laughing at her horrible dancing, I get up and join her like when we were kids. It was never about trying to impress anyone, it was about having fun, letting loose, and revering the moment of feeling free. She frames her face with her hands and I shake my head at her silliness. I know _exactly_ where this is going.

"What? It's good!" She smiles, quoting her favorite scene from her favorite movie, _Baby Mama_.

We pretend that we're experts in the field of dance, and move until we're completely out of breath. She's laughing and smiling, and that's exactly how I want Josie to be. I stand still for a moment and focus on her―hands on her knees, trying to shake her butt like the girls in the popular music videos she likes, and then laughing at herself, throwing her hands up, closing her eyes, and getting lost in the music.

She's incredible. Pure beauty. Stunning personality. My heart. She stops when the song changes to a slow rhythm. She looks up at me, and then gives me the cutest look, a light smile tugging on her lips, averting her eyes, and turning her face downward and away from me.

I hold out my arm, asking for a chance to dance with her. The reflection of the moonlight ripples against her face and skin, shifting her beauty into something ethereal. As soon as she's close enough, I grab her and bring her flush against me. Her hands wrap around my neck, and her soft touch is the fire to the gasoline on my skin.

Her eyes close and a satisfied smile dances on her lips when I rest my hands right above her ass. My heart warms, a foreign but welcoming feeling that I only experience when I'm with Josie. Sliding one hand up her back, I grip her almost-dry hair, bringing her tiny body to a tremble in my arms. At first I play with it lightly, but then surprise her when I wrap it around my hand and give it a good yank.

I immediately bring my face to her exposed neck, thrilled and shaken to the core by the purring sound that rumbles in her throat. My kitten likes it when I pull her hair and kiss her neck. I run my nose up her throat and along her jaw. I slip my tongue out and taste the skin beneath her ear. Her breath is quick and shallow. Moans escape both our lips.

I press my hand harder against her back so my hips drive into her, showing her exactly how much my body reverberates with need for her. For Josie. _Always_ Josie.

She breathes out roughly and opens her neck up more to me. I run my tongue up her throat and jaw this time, nipping at her skin as I go. My hand moves to her scalp to get a better hold on her, the other cupping her ass. She stands on her tiptoes, one hand tangled in my hair and the other gripping my tense arms. I'm not ashamed of the deep moan her touch brings out of me. There is nothing better than her sweet, delicate hands roving my body.

My lips move to her ear and I graze them softly against her, eliciting another shudder from her.

"You will never understand what you do to me," I whisper. A small sound leaves her mouth, and I can feel her weakening in my hold. I pull her ear into my mouth just how she likes, and bite it gently.

"Seth . . . ," she says breathily.

"What do you want, pretty girl?" I ask huskily, bringing my mouth to her cheek. I kiss my way down to the side of her mouth, using my tongue slightly in the chaste kisses. Her mouth parts as she tries to catch her breath. If she says stop, then I'll stop, but I want more than anything for her to tell me she wants me to give her the world. "I'll give you anything, Josie. I may have been gone for two years, but you still consume every part of me."

A change in the air causes me to look up into the sky. Clouds obscure the once clear night, and I smell the rain on the verge of breaking. I look back down to Josie, who watches me thoughtfully. I know she'll fight this. She'll come up with every reason to stop us from being together. My heart clenches painfully in my chest when she takes a step back from me.

The skies open up and the rain starts pouring down on us. It doesn't faze me. The only person deserving of my focus is the one who just stepped away from me.

"I'm scared, Sethy," she says, needing to raise her voice to be heard over the pounding of the rain. And the nickname she uses for me only when she's overcome with emotion sends me over the edge. I _love_ her. I can't lose her.

I gradually step closer to her. "I'm scared too, Josie. I'm so fucking scared. I'm scared you'll never know how much I love you. I'm scared you'll never love me back. But, Pussycat? I'm even more scared of living the rest of my life without _trying_ to prove to you that I am so crazy in love with you."

Her clothes and hair are soaked, her mouth open while rain dances against her face. I see her inner conflict start to dispel and then she starts closing the distance between us. I don't need any more encouragement, and I find myself moving toward her with even more purpose. I grab her face with both of my hands and bring my mouth to hers.

There's no holding back. There's no worrying about menial things like our phones, the speaker, or the food, because nothing can compare to the caliber of this moment.

My lips crush hers as I hold her to me, never wanting to let go. I bring her bottom lip between my teeth and suck it into my mouth, loving the taste of the rain against her velvety lips. I want to consume her. I want to show her I can't live another second on this earth without her. She moans into my mouth and it drives me fucking crazy. Her hands intertwine in my hair, gripping me as I lift her off her feet to get better access into her mouth.

My thumb urges her mouth open and she complies like she's the clay that I'm molding. My tongue seeks her mouth, needing every bit of her as possible. She tastes like strawberries, and I know without any doubt that her taste will be in every dream I have from now until I die.

I've been dying, spiraling into an abyss of nothingness, but with one kiss from Josie, I feel like I can breathe again. I feel whole again. I'm hungry for her. I've been starved without her and I can't let her go ever again. I grab her ass, jeans wet from the rain, and lift her up so she wraps her sexy legs around me.

Her tongue clashes with mine in a dance that soothes our fears and increases the passion we harbor. As the rain increases, so do the movements between us. She rubs herself against me, and I know exactly what she needs. And I want to give it to her. Our mouths are slippery, making us reckless and uninhibited. The blood pumping in me is on fire, growing as her hands become wilder and desperate.

Our breathing is rough. Our hands frantic. Our lips greedy. Our hearts wild.

Suddenly, there's a loud boom and cracking sound that startles us from our connection. My heart may be beating like crazy, but that boom wasn't internal―it's the sky getting angrier. My first thought is to get Josie to safety. Still holding her in my arms, I brush her soaked hair out of her face, giving her a lazy smile to match hers. She looks so content and happy, relaxed but with eyes loaded with lust. The next roll of thunder is so boisterous that Josie jerks and wraps her arms harder around my neck.

Kitten doesn't like thunder either, and I immediately chastise myself for not checking the weather before we left. I wouldn't have brought Kitten with us if I knew it was going to storm. None of the other horses have a problem with thunderstorms, but Kitten freaks out every time. Josie and I turn our heads in the direction of the horse that is neighing loudly and kicking her front legs in the air. As soon as she gets back on all fours, she bolts into the forest.

"Fuck," I say under my breath as Josie unwraps her legs and stands back on the ground. "Come on, Pussycat . . . Let's go back to the barn so you're not in the storm. I'll go look for Kitten when it dies down."

"I hope she's okay," she says, worry replacing the peaceful look in her eyes.

"She'll be fine. She does this all the time and comes back."

I put everything away and grab my shirt and phone. My shirt is soaked, so I don't even bother trying to put it on. I do put my boots on though, and I saddle up on Ash. After Josie slips on her boots, she comes up next to my horse to climb on with me. She doesn't need my help, but I offer her my hand anyway. She giggles and rolls her eyes, but takes my hand and pulls herself up to sit behind me.

We're both slippery from the incessant rain, but that doesn't lessen the heat I feel when she wraps her tiny arms around my body.

"Hold on tight, Pussycat . . . ," I say before grabbing the reigns and giving Ash a small kick. 

# Chapter 11

### Josie

The first thing I want to do when I climb onto the back of the horse is lick the length of Seth's back. All that muscled, toned goodness is only a tongue-length away and is calling my name, begging me to taste and memorize every dip and valley.

Tonight has been a nonstop train of increasing desire and ache. Desire for his touch and an ache to give him my mangled heart. Have I really been hiding from the truth of my feelings for Seth for this long? Forcing myself to bury the way I feel about him? Have I never showed him what he makes me feel?

I know the answer immediately . . . Yes, of course I have.

I've always known that the risk is too great. Seth is more than just some replaceable friend.

Seth is the person who punched several boys in the face for making fun of me for having gay parents—as if there's something wrong with that. He's the one who shoved Ray Flander against the lockers when he spread a rumor about me having an STD. He's the one who ditched his date at homecoming to dance with me, since I was stood up by my date. He's the one who would stop mid-sexual intercourse with a girl if I needed a ride to 7-11 for a Slurpee. He's the one who saved me. He's the one who held my hand every night after I was raped, trying to coax me out of the depths of my sorrow.

Seth has been the other half of my being, soul and heart, since we were six years old. What we have is more than a fragile, fickle friendship—it's something I'm _terrified_ of losing.

When Seth was gone for two years, I wasn't the same. I could barely function, and now I know it's because a piece of me was missing.

He wants me to take a chance. I want to take that chance. But can I risk losing him again? Am I even _worthy_ of him?

The skin on my arms scorches against his stomach. The chill of the rain and wind infused with the heat of his bare chest and back sends a pulsing energy through my veins. I lay my head against him, loving the smell of the rain and hay that wraps around him. I'm not sure how, but I find a way to pull myself closer, my core pressed against his lower back and my hands splayed in the middle of his chest.

I brush my mouth against his wet back, grazing my teeth against his skin as I let go of modesty and reticence. My hands and chest feel the vibrations of him humming in satisfaction. He slows down the horse, and places one hand on the top of my thigh, squeezing tightly and breathing rough. My ragged breath matches his, exhilarated by his hand on me and the thought of what I want him to do to me.

For so long I refused to see that he felt the same way as me—discounting any and all indicators that he was always hoping for more. I've seen Seth with other girls. I've heard the stories. I've seen my share of his horrid adventures with women. It's different with me. He's gentle and tender, and treats me as if I'm fragile. And that's not to say sex with Seth isn't the most incredible thing I've ever experienced—it's that I always felt I was missing his passion for me.

Then there are these tiny moments, like when he yanked my hair earlier and the way he's grabbing my thigh right now— and I know the passion between us has been subdued, as if contained by a wall of stone that prevents the onslaught of war. Because that's how it would feel: guns blazing and swords clashing as intense passion rages in our veins and hearts.

I've seen raw passion in his eyes. And I've seen him force it back, opting for gentleness instead.

My thoughts get lost when the horse stops abruptly in the middle of the open field, the storm still raging above us, rain glistening off of Seth's bare taught skin, tall grass swaying in the direction that the wind calls, and our heady breaths enmeshing in the humid air.

Seth turns halfway in his seat and looks at me with his gorgeous blue eyes, heated with a craving that I know all too well. His hand travels to my hip and clutches it was he leans into me. Determination flashes in his eyes, and he grips harder, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and biting it.

"You better fucking be good, Jos. I'm seconds away from fucking you senseless right here," he says huskily against my mouth.

I gasp, shocked by his comment. He's never said anything like that to me before. A shock of pressure shoots right to my core, creating a wetness between my thighs that has nothing to do with the rain. My mouth parts open, and I pant as he skims my jaw and mouth with his wet lips.

"Mmm . . . ," I moan, closing my eyes and pushing my chest out to him.

"Fuck, Josie . . . ," he whispers and grabs my breast in his hand, kneading it in sync with his other hand that's moved back to my thigh. Feeling bold, I place my hand on his chest, lightly dragging my fingernails down until they reach the arousal in his jeans. He sucks in a sharp breath, and his hand on my breast squeezes harder. The pain is subdued when he rubs it softly after. The storm rages on around us, as an even bigger storm forms within my body.

The horse moves, and we grab the saddle to stay on. Seth shakes his head, and the look in his eyes turns to one of confusion and anger.

"Don't touch me like that while I'm riding, Pussycat. My dick will break off." His voice has lost all heat, turning cold and uninterested. The attempted joke is lost in the acid of his voice. He's already pulling away from me.

I laugh humorlessly, stung and hurt, and grab the saddle instead of risking touching him again. For a brief moment, I thought, _hoped_ , that he had found me as sexy as the other girls he's been with. I thought the barrier had started to come down, but then he built it right back up with that one look. A sharp pain works its way from my chest to my throat, a thrum that reminds me that my heart is still fragile.

Blake broke my heart again a month ago. How can I possibly think my heart is in okay shape to give away again? And especially to Seth, who is the most important person in the world to me.

Seth gets the horse to start trotting again, but before he breaks out into a canter, Seth reaches back and pries my hand from the seat. He rubs it softly in his version of an apology and places it back against his stomach. I wrap my other hand around again, and I hold on to him firmly.

Sure, it's a mixed signal, but I'm like a puzzle piece fitting effortlessly in the contours of my perfect match.

I don't tease him for the rest of the ride to the barn, unsure of how he'll react. Tonight wasn't a date, but if it had been, riding and going to the lake would've been my top choice. Blake wasn't overly extravagant when we dated, but he _was_ excessive in his romance. I don't need any of that from Seth. We can do the simplest things and find humor and fun in them.

We get to the barn too quickly, and I find myself having to force my arms off of him. I jump off the horse as gracefully as I can and give myself a mental pat on the back for not falling. Seth dismounts, still not looking at me. The storm still rages vehemently, so Seth puts Ash back in his stall, unable to go look for Kitten until the weather dies down.

I look around the barn as I wait for Seth, and I remember my first time here when I was a little girl. George and Gayle wanted to meet my dads since Seth and I had become inseparable. I begged Daddy and Dad to let me come over, and they finally caved. As soon as we got here, Seth raced me to the barn so he could show me the horses. He had grown up here, so being around the big creatures was no big deal to him. I was a lot more timid. But the last thing I wanted was for Seth to know I was scared.

I froze when Seth opened the gate to a large black horse. My feet anchored to the ground, and I couldn't bring myself to pretend like I wanted to actually touch the horse. Seth looked back for me, and when he noticed I didn't follow him into the stall, he came back out and closed the door. He grabbed my tiny hand in his and walked me to the corral. He didn't say anything. He didn't make fun of me for being scared. He just comforted me with his small hand.

When we got outside, he brought me up to a miniature horse. The horse was tan with a beautiful blond mane, and best of all, she was shorter than me. I squeezed Seth's hand, the fear from earlier disintegrating as I looked at the less intimidating horse. Seth looked at me and smiled a smile that showed two missing teeth. I smiled back.

"This is Betsy. Dad said we have to take care of her while her owners are out of town. She's a miniature horse," he stated, proud of himself for being able to relay some facts. Seth touched Betsy's nose first, then rubbed her neck. With the hand that wasn't tightly gripping Seth, I reached out and tried to copy what he did. Betsy nudged me as I pet her, and she seemed to like me right away. At least that's what I told myself. I giggled and did it again.

"See. Not so bad," Seth said. "Once you get used to her, you can try the other horses."

"Sorry I got scared," I said, nervously. I didn't want to give him any reason to make fun of me, but he was nice about it, so I thought I could tell him the truth.

He just shrugged his shoulders. "Everyone is scared of something. I used to be scared of the cows."

"The cows?" I asked, giggling.

He laughed with me. "Yep. Dad said I should start with the calves, then work my way to being around the bigger ones. Now I'm not scared. Just keep coming back, Josie, and you won't be scared anymore."

Maybe that advice is something that can be taken beyond an experience I had as a seven-year-old. George taught me how to ride on the miniature horse, and I kept coming back for more lessons. Eventually I got to a point where the bigger horses never scared me anymore. Now being around them is like second nature.

"What're you smilin' 'bout?" Seth asks as he walks up to me. His southern lilt that I love is coming back. I must have zoned out, because I missed the part where he put on a shirt, hiding my view of his toned abs, tattoos, and piercings. I kind of feel like throwing a tantrum. He must've stashed some clothes around here, because his jeans are dry too.

"Just thinking about the first time I came here."

"Ahhhh . . . Right. You were scared of the horses," he says, laughing. I lean my shoulder into him to push him, but he doesn't budge and wraps his arm around me instead. He moves me so I'm in front of him, and his hand reaches out to push my damp, wayward hair out of my face. His eyes search mine, and it does nothing to easy my uncertainty when I see indecision and hesitation reflected back at me. "I tried so hard to get you out of my head while I was gone."

I was _not_ expecting that. His thumb traces my jaw, making my skin tingle from the warmth and the roughness.

"I went away thinking that over time I could get rid of the feelings I have for you. I wanted to forget the hatred in your eyes when you saw those pictures in the gallery. I thought the distance could soothe the ache in my heart. I wanted to forget about the fact that you chose Blake over me—"

I start to speak, but his finger moves from my cheek to my mouth. His finger lingers there, touching the softness of my lips with his coarse hand.

"Shhh . . . Let me finish, Pussycat. I tried to think of every reason why I wasn't good enough. I was a fucking wreck. I didn't understand why he got to have your heart, when I could take care of your heart better." He pauses and gives me a pleading look. "I _know_ I can take care of you better, Josie. I was gone for two fucking years, screwing every girl I saw—"

I jerk away from him, not wanting to hear about how he was with other women. _What the fuck?_

He grabs my arm tightly and pulls me to him. "Stop it, Josie. Fucking listen to me. You never listen to me. You always think you fucking know everything. You think you know how everyone thinks or feels, but you're wrong. Just listen!" he says roughly, keeping me firmly against the front of him. I see turmoil, hurt, and honesty in his eyes. He's been wanting to say this for a while, and I owe it to him to let him speak—no matter how much I hate hearing some of it. Relenting, I nod my head, and I feel his rigid body relax. He keeps his hand on my back, making sure I don't move away again.

"You've always gotten so jealous when I talk about other girls," he says, a sexy-ass smirk on his luscious lips.

I roll my eyes, not finding humor in his statement. _Have I always been jealous?_

"Anyway. You were always there, getting in the way. You infiltrated my whole being. My body craved you. My heart needed you. My mind saw you. It didn't matter how many girls I was with, you consumed me, and it never went away. Can't tell you how many times I was slapped for saying the wrong name."

I laugh under my breath but don't look at him. I don't like hearing about him with other women. It makes me sick. But it's nice to know that he was slapped while he was with them. . . especially for saying my name.

"Josie . . . ," he whispers, tipping my chin and turning my face toward his. "I ran away because I was scared. I was scared and angry about how I've felt for you for years, just to have it all ripped away on a night filled with angry words and horrible decisions. I know it will be hard. I know it's risky. I know there's a chance things could go to hell, but I'm not okay with running anymore. I _will_ make you mine. Because as much as I don't deserve you, _you_ deserve to feel the intensity of what I feel for you."

My heart flutters at his declaration. He wants me.

"Sethy," I say softly, reaching up to touch his face. "I'm so scared. I can't lose you again."

"I'll always be here, Josie. I know it's hard to believe me and trust me after what happened, but I swear I will kill myself before I ever let you go again." He grabs the sides of my face and leans his forehead against mine. He places his lips against the side of my mouth and leaves them there, savoring the closeness. Then he whispers, "Remember I told you to keep coming back to the horses, and eventually you wouldn't be scared anymore?"

I nod my head, half-delirious with how close he is to me and half-enraptured by what he's telling me. "Yes," I whisper back, my breath mixing with his heavy breathing.

"Do the same for me, pretty girl. We'll go slowly. Keep coming back to me. Let me show you that you're my other half and that life isn't worth shit without you here with me." He softly puts his lips on mine and speaks the last words into my mouth. "Let me prove to you that I can love you the way you deserve."

I don't know where he gets this idea that I'm deserving of anything from him, but his words still send a bolt of pleasure through my body. The butterflies in my stomach flutter rapidly. Fuck my insecurities about whether or not this is too soon. My whole body, mind, and soul are craving him. I need to tell him how in love with him I am. My mouth opens as I try to take in more air, and Seth's mouth follows my top lip. He wastes no time pushing my body harder against his and bringing my lip into his mouth.

His hands are eager. Mine are too. His tongue is greedy. Mine is too.  His heart is racing.  Mine is too.

Pushing my fingers through his hair, I keep his face locked against mine. There's a carnal need storming through my blood, and Seth's the only one who is feeding the hunger. I want to freeze this moment. This beautiful powerful kiss. I never want to forget the way his tongue dances on top of mine, the way he holds me as if I'll disappear any second. The whispered _you're so fucking gorgeous_ in my ear.

I'll never be able to kiss another man and feel the same way ever again.

That's probably the whole point.

His hands glide under my shirt, and a chill runs down my back. His hard hands are rough against my sensitive skin, but the friction is what makes it so perfect. _He's_ fucking perfect. His thumb rubs the bottom hem of my bikini top.

"Seth . . . ," I whimper, the ache between my thighs rivaling the storm outside. My hands rest against his strong jaw, keeping them there so he knows he has my complete attention.

His deep moan shakes me to my core. "The way you say my name when you want me is the sexiest sound I've ever fucking heard," he says ruggedly, bringing his other hand to rest in the space between my legs. I moan loudly and lean my head back. He takes advantage of my exposed neck, the heat of his mouth exhilarating against my cold, rain-soaked body. I whimper and writhe in his arms. He uses his mouth to find my beating pulse and pulls the skin in between his teeth, sucking on it eagerly.

"Ohhh . . . Sethy," I moan. His groan against my skin turns me on even more. With each brush of our lips, we're stripping away the fear and inhibitions.

But of course, as soon as my hand moves to the erection in his pants—causing a very sexy, deep moan from Seth—our moment is broken.

Why _wouldn't_ my fickle horse come back in from the storm at that moment? Why wouldn't we be interrupted as soon as we were dripping with desire as heavy as the pouring rain outside? Because this is real fucking life, that's why.

Kitten's clomping and neighing makes the two of us groan. Our moment is over.

"Just so you know, I don't want to let go of you for one fucking second," Seth says into my neck. He kisses me one last time. "But I need to get her back in her stall before she runs again."

"Jeez, attached much?" I say playfully, immediately feeling empty when he lets go of me. He walks over to Kitten, turns around, and smirks at me.

"You have no idea, Pussycat," he replies with a wink.

Maybe I do . . . because I'm feeling a little attached myself. 

# Chapter 12

### Seth

_I laid her down on the mattress, careful not to make it too rough, and crawled over the top of her sexy little body until my face was level with hers. She was breathing fast, nervous, but her dark blue eyes reflected how much she trusted me. How much she wanted me._

_I didn't deserve her trust. I would never deserve her trust, but she gave it to me then. Cupping her face in my hands, I was lost in the agonizingly beautiful depths of her eyes. I moved my lips back to hers, and proceeded to kiss her in a way that made me question every other kiss before her. How could kissing feel so incredible? Her lips were delicious and perfect in every way._

_Her chest pushed up against mine as I discovered every part of her mouth, and I felt her hard nipples through her shirt. Fuck if I ever thought I'd be so turned on with clothes still on my body._

_"Please," she moaned, lifting her hips up until her heat touched my thigh. "Seth . . . "_

_Fuck, there it was again—my name on her lips. The whisper spoke loudly and provocatively to every cell inside me. I didn't think my cock could get any harder, but it was throbbing like crazy after hearing that sweet sound. I sat up for a moment and lifted my shirt over my head._

_The heated look on her face as she devoured my chest with her eyes is one I will never forget. Her small hand reached out and traced the pirate-themed tattoo on my ribs, trailing them across until she touched one of my nipple piercings. Her soft fingers against the hard and cool metal sent a goddamn shock through me. What the fuck was wrong with me?_

_"I like these," she whispered with a small sensual grin, still playing with the piercing._

_I groaned, completely turned on and eager for more of her. "I show you mine, you show me yours," I said, smirking back at her. Her smile could light the fucking room, bright with the camaraderie that we shared and the passion raging inside her._

_She skillfully slid her top off, leaving on the black lace bra. Damn that bra looked delicious. I ran my hand up her stomach, greedy to feel her bare skin._

_"Fuck, Josie . . . You're killing me," I whispered before bringing my head to the divot between her breasts. My hand reached up and pulled down the lace material that covered her breast, and I immediately directed my mouth to her nipple. Her soft skin was luscious, and when I sucked that nipple into my mouth, feeling her squirm beneath me and tasting the hardened skin, I knew I had never tasted anything as succulent as her. I_ really _couldn't wait to taste her pussy._

_She continued to moan and writhe while I licked every inch of her breasts and stomach, caving to the throes of ecstasy I was offering. I finally and reluctantly pulled myself away from her body, with a new lust-driven motivation to get the rest of our clothes off. My dick hurt from being so hard in my damned tight jeans._

_I watched her face closely as I slid them off, taking in every emotion that she revealed. There was a look of hunger, need, craving, eagerness, and surprise. I let myself be naked in front of her for a minute longer before I couldn't take her being clothed anymore._

_"Can I take these off?" I asked, leaning next to her and reaching the top button of her jeans. Her breathing was rough and needy—fucking music to my ears._

_"Yes, please," she squeaked, before creasing her eyebrows and coughing. She had no reason to be embarrassed, I loved her awkwardness. She didn't have to act sexy in order to be sexy._

_"It's okay, Pussycat," I assured her, reaching into her jeans and gliding my finger against the length of her._ Holy fuck, _I thought as I felt her wet pussy. Kissing her was all it took to get her that wet—I had never felt more accomplished than in that moment._

_Hooking both hands on her jeans and panties, I slowly slid them down her legs. I swallowed hard, unable to take my eyes away from the perfection of the girl I thought was just my best friend for so long._

_I was fucking doomed._

_My body was between her legs, mouth salivating for a taste. Just one taste. I didn't ask, I just slipped out my tongue and bent my head until I reached her heated pussy. I licked the length of her, putting pressure on her clit when I got to the top._

_"Oh!" she gasped, lifting herself onto her elbows to look at me._

_She was so excruciatingly sexy. I almost forgot she had never had anyone be with her like that. I smirked and brought my fingers to her center, while my other hand held her thighs in place. My fingers entered her, loving how wet and hot she was for me. I stroked her insides while my tongue stroked her clit, applying altering amounts of pressure. She flopped back onto the mattress and squirmed while I worked her up._

_Yep. She tasted delicious. I was so fucked._

_I felt her shaking, felt her toes curling against my back, and watched her clench the sheets on the mattress, and I knew she was close to her orgasm. I wanted that come all over my mouth. I wanted to lick every fucking drop out of her, and my eagerness for her to come reflected in how I sucked and licked her clit. I wouldn't stop or slow down until she was a sweaty puddle of pure satisfaction under me. Her cries grew louder and louder, making my dick about to burst. Finally, I felt her break out in goose bumps, push herself off the bed, and grip the hair on my head as she let go and came against my mouth. Never had I seen something so amazing in my life._

_Shit, I was hopeless for her._

_I couldn't stop tasting her, enjoying the way she wriggled whenever I touched her now-sensitive clit. I placed chaste kisses along her thigh and then sat up. I grabbed my shirt, wiped my mouth, and then grabbed my jeans and found the condom I always kept in my wallet. I aligned myself perfectly with her body, my dick pressing against her hot, wet mound._

_"You sure you want to do this?" I asked. "We can stop here. We can do this another night." I needed to make sure she was okay. I needed to make sure that she wouldn't be hurt when it was all over._

_Her blue eyes looked at me with an amalgam of strength, determination, naiveté, and longing. "I'm positive, Seth. Show me how it's supposed to feel," she said in a soft voice that nearly broke my heart._

_I nodded my head and rubbed myself against her. She was still soaked, and I closed my eyes to help keep my composure together. I guided the head of my cock to her entrance and lifted my hand to her cheek._

_"You're so beautiful, Josie. Thank you for giving this to me," I said, sincerely. She leaned into my touch, and closed her eyes as she nodded her head. It was a big deal. I grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her passionately on her mouth. "Please look at me," I whispered, needing to see her every reaction to me. She opened her eyes, dark blue and filled with sensuality._

_I gradually slid inside of her, feeling her perfect pussy open up to me as I went further in. She felt unbelievable wrapped around my rock-hard cock. I know I moaned as I slid all the way in, but it felt too good to care if I sounded like a dumbass._

_Her insides clenched around my dick, intensifying the incredible feeling, and her eyes widened and she gasped when I started rocking into her. I was gentle, but there was no denying the need and hunger I had for her. My thrusts were needy and unconstrained, needing to fill the void that only she seemed to be able to fill._

_Every single motion was a way to show her that someone cared and that someone could make her feel amazing. That making love could be beautiful—though, even I didn't know it until then._

_She was fucking perfect underneath me—hair spread across the bed, face glistening with sweat, mouth open, alternating between gasping and moaning, and her eyes locked on mine with complete satisfaction and trust._

_That look took me to the place I needed to be. I reached down in between our bodies and started rubbing her clit, so she could experience the same amazing feeling I was about to feel. I rubbed as my hips grinded against her, until she broke out in chills and started to shiver. She was close too. As soon as I felt her fingers claw at my back and I knew she was coming, I let myself go and I came with three quick thrusts._

_She gasped for air, but at the same time, a smile played on her lips. When she opened her eyes, I saw how happy I just made her. That look—of complete satisfaction and pleasure—_ changed _something within me. I smiled back at her, completely shocked by what was happening._

_Fuck, Josie_ ruined _me._

***

"Ahhh . . . ," I groan, gasping for breath.

The heated pressure of the shower against my chest, combined with the memory of the first time Josie and I had sex, brings me to the brink of my orgasm as I stroke my cock. My hand rubs it faster, base to tip, thinking about Josie's satisfied look after we both came. I groan again and place my hand against the wall in the shower as I come, streams coming from the tipoff my swollen dick. The spray of water washes it down the drain, and I lean my forehead against the shower wall so I can calm my heart rate.

_Fuck_.

That girl is going to kill me. My dick is still throbbing, an aching reminder that this could never compare to the real thing.

No. . . I don't use cold showers to wash away the fact that the hottest girl on earth turns me on like no one else. Why the fuck would I want to erase the way she makes me feel?

After I took care of Kitten last night, I thought it might be a good idea to take Josie home. I promised her we could go slowly, and that included waiting to have sex—no matter how badly I want her. A chaste kiss goodbye turned into something hot and heavy in my truck. I couldn't control my hand if I had wanted to. And I didn't. I slipped my hand into the shorts I gave her to change into, and I fingered her tight pussy until my windows were fogged with her heavy breathing and she screamed with her release.

Her eyes smoldered as she watched me lick my fingers after she came back down from her high. It was enough for me to get her off, so I walked her back to her apartment and gave her one last, lingering kiss goodbye. I turned around before she closed the door and told her, "Move in with me, Pussycat." She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide the smile on her lips before she closed and locked the door.

I woke up this morning happy with how things went last night, but with a craving so severe I had to get in the shower to take care of it. Josie does things to me that I've never felt before. She turns me on more than any girl ever has and sends a fire coursing within me with a simple touch. But more than that, she makes me . . . feel. She makes me feel like I'm worth something, and that there's something in this world worth fighting for.

But Josie's always been like that. She's always brought me happiness, whenever I cave to the darkness. It just never occurred to me that she was the _only_ one who could do that, and she was the _only_ one I was supposed to be with.

For so long I've struggled with what the doctors call depression. It's a bullshit excuse to say that there's something wrong with me—a chemical imbalance in my brain. It's just this cloud of gloom that sucks me in sometimes. I get pissed when people piss me off. What's unusual about that? There wouldn't be anything strange about it, but in the depths of my mind I know it's different. I don't just get pissed. I agonize over it, and I drown in guilt and obscurity.

When I left the country, hiding away from the pain of someone who was unattainable, I went through women, searching for someone who could help me the way Josie did. Every time I thought about Josie, it got worse. When it got worse, I fucked a girl. When I fucked a girl, I wished it was Josie. So the despondency never dissipated, it just grew.

It's hard to explain how I feel when I go through those moments of severe depression. My chest hurts, and I feel suffocated—from life and breathing—and I feel no purpose in living. My problems got worse after I found Josie raped and beaten on the asphalt. I tried to stay strong for her, calling her every chance I could, talking to her when she wouldn't communicate in return, and holding her hand at night in an attempt to comfort her, but the guilt weighed on me heavier than anything else. For years, Josie had been able to pull me out of any depression, and when she needed me, I couldn't pull her out of it.

And I think it's because I caused it. I should've been there for her and protected her from being raped, but I didn't.

I make a fist and bang it against the shower wall. I'll never be able to get over it. I'll never be able to forgive myself. But I _can_ try to show her that I love her every chance I get. I can try.

# Chapter 13

### Seth

My phone rings not five minutes after I get out of the shower.

"What's up?" I answer the phone, pulling my dark jeans up my legs.

"Are you driving me to the party?" Josie asks without an introduction.

I smile at her sweet voice, thankful once again that I'm back and talking to her again. "Of course. What time do you need me to be there?" I hear her release a breath. She must be more nervous about this party than I thought.

"Um . . . The party starts at six and it'll take like thirty minutes to get there so . . . five . . . ish . . . eh, I don't know, what do you think? I don't want to get there early . . . but Brooke is my other best friend, so I don't want to be late. What do you think?"

I chuckle softly at her rambling and lay back on my bed. I missed her so much.

"I'll be there at five-thirty and we can leave whenever you feel comfortable." I want to reassure her that she's not alone anymore, so I try the best way I can think of. "I'll be there, Josie. I won't let him hurt you . . ."

"I know, Seth . . . It's just . . . " She sighs as she tries to find the right words. "I'm not nervous about seeing him-- it's just that I'm so fucking _pissed_ at him. I'm afraid I'll hit him," she finally admits.

I crack up laughing when I hear her confession. She joins in eventually and laughs too, the most adorable sound I've ever heard.

"Oh, Pussycat . . . I would be disappointed if you _didn't_ hit him." She's so fucking cute . . . How was I able to stay away for so long?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . I just don't want to upset Brooke."

I understand that, but it doesn't mean I wouldn't enjoy watching her deck him for being a dick.

We talk for a couple more minutes before we hang up to get ready. I slept in, so I only have a couple of hours before I have to head over to Josie's. She told me my jeans weren't nice enough for an engagement party, so I have to rake through my closet to find some dress pants. Eventually I find them but they're wrinkled. I sigh and debate whether or not I should put them on anyway. My desire to please Josie overrides my laziness, so I run to the main house.

My mom is sitting in her recliner, reading on her Kindle—probably smut, but I try not to think about it. She looks up when I walk in and raises an eyebrow. I hold out my pants and raise both of my eyebrows in a pleading look.

"How in the world do you think you'll be able to win that girl over if you don't iron your own damn clothes?" she asks, rolling her eyes and getting out of her chair.

"Awww, Mom! Come on. . . She'll love me because she'll think I ironed them all by myself," I answer, wrapping my arm around her.

"Nope . . . Come here. You're doing it yourself. I'll show you how. No son of mine will go into a marriage without knowing how to help his wife with the chores."

"First . . . _Whoa_! Who said anything about _marriage!?_ Second, I'm your one and only _perfect_ son."

"Yeah. Whatever. Come on, you're still learning." She sends me a patient look and grabs the ironing board from the closet. Then, she chastises every mistake I make. Dad walks in when I finish up, and he chuckles under his breath as he sits down.

"Good job, son," Mom says, beaming at me when I'm done.

I roll my eyes. I can't believe we spent the last twenty minutes going over how to iron.

"Don't look so irritated, Seth," Dad says with a smile. "She made me learn, too. The day after we got married." He looks at Mom with absolute tenderness and love.

I love how much they love each other—how they can still look at each other with the same amount of affection as they did in the wedding pictures that are displayed around the house. It's the same exact way I want to look at Josie when we're older. I shake my head of those thoughts, not wanting to get hopeful about a future with her. I walk over to my dad, slinging my wrinkle-free pants over my arm. Messing up his hair, I lean down so only he can hear my next words.

"That's because Mom has you whipped, Dad," I say.

He chuckles deeply and shakes his head. "What made you want to iron those pants in the first place?" he asks, giving me a knowing look.

"Mom!' I shout across the room. "Dad says he's in control of this house."

She spins around and puts a hand on her hip, arching an eyebrow to Dad and me. She glares for a moment, not saying anything, and retreats to the kitchen.

"You little prick. She's going to have my ass for that," Dad says when she's gone.

 I laugh and walk away.

I finish getting ready, and I think I look good . . . Yeah, I definitely look like a sexy beast. Josie will think so, too, and that's all that matters. The nervousness from last night returns and I definitely feel like I deserve a swift kick in my junk to toughen me up.

This is _Josie_. There's no fucking reason to be jittery about a night out with her. I'm confident because I know I look, kiss, and fuck well—so why do I feel like there's so much more to be worried about when it comes to her? Like the fear of not being good enough is rooted way deeper than I thought.

Shoving my hand through my messy hair, I appraise myself one last time, deciding that at least I have my looks going for me tonight and hoping she doesn't see my fear.

I drive to her house, and I feel a conflict of emotions creeping into my head. I'm glad to be taking Josie to this party, but I'm fucking pissed too. If Blake's there, they don't have to worry about Josie hitting him. As soon as I have him away from Brooke, I'm going to beat his ass. How has the douche gotten this far along without getting his ass handed to him? My anger twists and swirls and dampens my mood until I'm pulling up to Josie's apartment complex.

Taking a deep breath to try to calm my nerves and darkening mood, I jog up the stairs two at a time until I reach her door. I knock once, and she opens it immediately, a beaming smile gracing her gorgeous face.

It might sound corny as hell, but the sight of her takes my breath away. How can the girl get prettier every time I see her? She wears a floor-length silver dress that has a sequined-covered, strapless top and a flowing, pleated satin bottom. Her long brown hair is curled and pinned to the side, and her makeup is subtle but perfect. She looks like a goddess—stunning and literally breathtaking.

"You gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna be a gentleman and compliment a young lady?" she asks in an over-accented southern drawl.

She worked really hard to make sure she never talked like the kids around here, but it sure is cute hearing that accent come from her. Her voice brings my attention to her lips, glossed and plump in a pink tint. I want to suck those lips clean.

"I could give you every compliment known to man, and it would have nothing on the truth of your real beauty tonight, Pussycat," I say, bowing and taking her hand in mine. I bring it up to my mouth and kiss it, and the little bit of tongue is _not_ an accident. I come up to full height and see her still smiling at me. Raising her hand in mine, I twirl her around. Once she's facing me again, I lean her against the wall and slide my hand down her side, watching carefully as the look in her eyes changes from playfulness to the same desire she felt last night.

"Want to know what I would do if you were my girl, now?" I ask, referring to the conversation we never got to finish on her twenty-first birthday.

She never gave me a direct answer about what she wants from our relationship, so I figure I'll give her something to ponder. She grins and nods her head. I trace my nose along her neck until I reach her ear and pull it into my mouth. She moans softly, adding fuel to my already raging fire.

"I would rip off that dress and fuck you so hard that you'd be incapable of moving, let alone go anywhere looking as gorgeous as you do right now . . . I'd keep you all to myself, Pussycat," I say roughly against her ear. I suck on the skin below her jaw one last time and then push myself away from her. I'm pretty sure I hear her sigh, but I walk away too soon to know for sure. "So you ready to go?"

"I . . . ," she starts, hand over her heart. She coughs once and tries to compose herself. "I'm ready," she finishes with a strained smile.

I walk back to her, unable to hide my satisfied grin. "You can still choose that option, pretty girl. We haven't left yet."

I see her determination and confidence coming back into her demeanor. "Eh . . . Not really interested tonight." She brushes past me and walks out the door. I chuckle at her back, knowing for a fact that she's lying.

She stomps down the stairs, but I know she's just playing mad at me. The problem is, Josie is clumsy as hell. Her foot catches and she starts to fall. I know I can't catch up to her to prevent her fall, but I know I can break it. Without a second thought, I slide down the stairs, until I reach her. She falls on top of me with a "humph." My back hurts like a bitch, but I don't care as long as Josie is okay. Her chest heaves while she lies against me.

"Oh my god . . . ," she whispers. "That scared the shit out of me." She turns around between my legs and looks at me. Fear and humor glitter her eyes like she's unsure if she should have a panic attack or a laughing fit. We both opt for a good laugh. I cup her cheek after we laugh for a minute, and she leans her cheek into my hand.

"Are you okay?" I whisper, leaning in and trailing my lips along her jaw. She nods her head and closes her eyes, purring in unreserved pleasure. My dick gets hard every time she makes that noise. "Please don't go to this tonight. Come home with me . . . ," I rasp against her lips.

I don't want anyone or anything getting between us tonight—I want her in my bed, showing her with every ounce of my existence that I love her.

She leans into me, mouth open like she's trying to catch her breath. Not happening. I claim her open mouth and graze the tip of her tongue with mine. Pulling her bottom lip between my teeth, I suck on it, gliding my tongue over her gloss. I do the same on her top lip, until I've sucked all of the strawberry-flavored lip gloss off her gorgeous mouth. I kiss her without a goddamn care, my hands ruining her up-do and the perfect lines of her dress.

I know everything about Josie. She purrs and moans when I grip her hair and lick her neck. She pushes her chest harder into mine when she wants me to touch her perfect tits. She gasps for air when I suck the skin on her collarbone into my mouth. And as I run my teeth across her neck, her skin breaks out in goose bumps and she shudders—that's my favorite.

She wants me as badly as I want her, and for once, she's not hiding it. And it thrills me to my core. I need her, and I need her to be mine. I lift up the hem of her dress and slowly move my hand up her leg, until I reach the top of her thigh.

She shivers again, and I smile against her neck where I've been assaulting her tender skin with my tongue. I knead her thigh and graze my thumb along the edge of the thin fabric that's covering up the part of her that I want more than my next breath. Heat radiates from her core, and I moan when I slip my finger inside of her panties and feel her wet excitement. I suck her neck harder, biting her with an animalistic craving that I always try to hide from her. She moans loudly and opens her neck up to me some more.

I use my middle finger to rub her juices and my other hand squeezes her chest. I'm about to pick her up and take her back to her apartment when we hear footsteps echoing in the stairwell.

"Get a room," someone hollers as they walk down the stairs. He has two friends following him, and I glare at every one of them when they look at Josie. I remove my hand from under her dress and slide my middle finger into my mouth, tasting what little I was able to get from her. Josie hides her face in my chest as I take it back out and flash them a grin with my middle finger pointed their way.

"You wish you were getting this lucky right now," I say to the douche who was watching us.

I hear Josie mutter "oh my god" under her breath, but I see her shoulders shaking from laughing, so I'm not worried that I offended her. I rub her bare back with my other hand, eyeing the prick as he starts walking away.

"Whore," he mutters under his breath.

I stiffen, grin slipping from my face. Josie's head shoots up, and puts her hand on my tensing arm. She pushes to her feet, and glares at the back of the douchebag's head.

"Fuck you," she spits.

My girl is wild. She's fierce. She stands up against bullies and wins. And even though she's changed so much in the last couple years, I look at her now and fall harder than I thought possible.

The guy turns around and stalks up to Josie. "The fuck you say to me?" he asks through gritted teeth. And before I can move, before I can threaten chopping off his balls, Josie's arm swings out and punches him.

I choke on a laugh, as the kid staggers back. Josie turns around and grips my hand, tugging me until we're running out of the building and into my tuck.

I lean my head back against the headrest and close my eyes, trying to breathe until my heartbeat slows down from the rush of adrenaline. I let out a breath and turn my head to Josie, who looks at me and grins slowly—eyes gleaming with humor and something else. I want to tell myself it's the same kind of love I feel for her, but I don't want to get my hopes up.

I start the truck and pull out into traffic.

"You are so fucking sexy, Josie," I say under my breath, starting the truck and pulling out into traffic. "By the way, you're totally moving in with me if you live in the same building as that prick." 

# Chapter 14

### Josie

The engagement party is in full swing when Seth and I get to the restaurant. Brooke squeals when she sees Seth and me together and wraps me in a hug. She looks incredible. Her shoulder length blond hair is up in a high bun, and her bright blue eyes glitter with excitement. A blue dress, covers the tiny bulge underneath, but I feel it while we embrace. I gasp and she winks at me.

"I have to talk to all the snooty people Brandon and I had to invite tonight, but I'll grab you later, okay?"

"Okay." I grin as Seth tugs on my arm and walks me around the room. The dining area is filled with older guests—family members who are only staying for dinner and not the party Brooke and Brandon planned at the bar in the back. I don't see Blake in the dining area, so we're avoiding the bar for now.

Seth stays by my side the whole time, holding my hand and cracking jokes. I'm anxious as hell, but somehow he's able to make it a little better.

Seth wraps his arm around my shoulders, drawing circles with his thumb. Boy, do I love his version of distraction. As he plays with my hair and rubs the bare skin of my back, I calm down and open up to him.

"I like this," he whispers as we lean against the wall overlooking the party.

"What?" I lean my head on his shoulder.

He tugs on a piece of my hair. " _This._ Being able to touch you in public and you not flinch when I do it."

My smile falls and I look at my feet. "I never flinched."

"You did. You'd freeze and look around to make sure no one was watching."

I lift my face up to look at him, heart hurting. "I'm s--,"

"Hey," he says, cutting me off, and gripping my hand. "I'm not tryin' to make you feel bad. I just never thought I'd get this chance. You'll never know what this means to me."

A sad smile starts to form on my face, and I run my hand up his chest. I want this so much. I want to tell him I'll be his for as long as he'll have me. I open my mouth to tell him to get used to it, when we are intercepted by an older couple, asking about Seth's tattoos.

While Seth indulges the people, I watch him. Animated hands, wide eyes, a charming grin. His tattoos peek out from under the dress shirt he's rolled up to his elbows. Flowing art in reds and purples and blues and black.

I want to devour his body with my tongue. From the tattooed sleeve on his right arm all the way across his chest, ribs, and thighs. I want to feel the cool metal of his piercings in my mouth. I want to lick those perfect abs, being thorough in every divot. I want to lick the crease of the "v" before his hips hit his pants. I want to—

"Jos . . . ," Seth whispers in my ear, minty breath tickling and igniting my skin. I've been biting my lip and staring at him. "Keep looking at me like that and I might have to take advantage of you in the bathroom." He flicks the bottom of my ear with his tongue. "And I don't think Brooke would appreciate your screams when I make you come."

I moan out loud, but Seth is already moving me away from the boring conversation and has me against the wall, so no one but he hears me. Am I aware that we are at a formal engagement party filled with people? Sure . . . but I don't give a fuck. Especially when he sucks on my neck like that. My hand finds his hair, and I start gasping for breath. "Seth . . . ," I moan against his ear.

"I can come back later . . . ," someone says, interrupting our moment. I groan into his shoulder, and he chuckles under his breath, placing a quick kiss on my jaw.

"Hey man!" Seth exclaims, bringing his attention to our interrupter. I see Dom, Robbie, and Brandon all standing there, waiting for us to break apart. Dom is smirking, Robbie is straight faced, and Brandon is grinning from ear to ear, which surprises me.

Seth embraces each of the men, excited to see them. When Blake and I were dating, Seth made good friends with Blake's friends, even though he never liked Blake. Dom, Robbie, and Brandon hug me next, and I laugh as they all take their turns. I haven't seen Dom and Robbie in over a year, so it's good to see them.

"Hope we weren't interrupting anything," Brandon says wiggling his eyebrows at Seth. I'm so fucking confused right now. I thought for sure he would be pissed at me.

Brandon's shaggy dark brown hair is combed to the side, probably at Brooke's nagging, and he's wearing a suit—which is so completely uncommon for him. He's the accountant for Blake's architecture business, but there's never been a formal dress code there, so he always wears his shorts and flip-flops to work.

"Actually you are, but it's probably a good thing you stepped in," Seth says. He winks at me before turning back to Brandon.  "Don't want to make your future wife jealous."

"Shut the fuck up, dude," Brandon says, laughing and punching Seth's arm.

Robbie looks at me curiously but hides his expression when I catch his look. Robbie is Blake's best friend, and he just saw me getting it on with Seth. My face flushes with embarrassment. The last time I saw the tall, thin red-head, he was just hired to coach soccer at the community college. The strength it must have taken to be an openly gay man and take on a position of coaching college men must have been difficult, and I respect him for it.

"You guys need to come over to the bar. It's boring as hell over here . . . No offense, Brandon," Dom says. Dom's big smile against his caramel brown skin is a welcoming sight. Dom's always happy; it doesn't matter what happens, he has an uncanny ability to find the good in every bad situation.

"No offense taken . . . I can't believe Brooke is even enjoying this. A few months ago, she would've died before having an engagement party that didn't resemble a frat party."

"She's pregnant, Brandon! She can't even drink!" I exclaim.

Seth shoves my shoulder and Brandon gapes at me. Dom and Robbie look at Brandon with their mouths open. _Shit._

"Josie . . . You've got a big-ass mouth," Brandon says, but he lets out a small laugh anyway.

"What the fuck, man!" Robbie says.

"Why the hell didn't you tell us?" Dom asks. They both pat Brandon on the back and congratulate him on his future kid.

"We were going to announce it tonight, but Josie spilled the beans. I better go tell Brooke before these fools tell everyone," Brandon says. He gives me a wink and moves to go get Brooke.

Seth's hand grabs my waist, and he pulls me next to him. He keeps his hand firmly on my hip and lets it stay there while we catch up with Robbie and Dom.

I have this moment of rightness—where everything feels perfect, exactly where it's supposed to be. Seth by my side, not hiding from friends. Exactly what I wanted four years ago, that summer I first fell in love with him.

As Brooke and Brandon get everyone's attention, I notice a thick figure come out of the shadows. I lose my breath and my heart speeds up in panic. Pain. Hurt. Guilt. Fear. He looks the same as he did when he left my apartment three weeks ago, dark brown hair cropped close to his scalp and dressed impeccably in a red dress shirt and black slacks. The dominance he emanates radiates across the room, sending a shiver down my back.

Blake Porter has finally made his appearance, and he is staring straight at me.

Dark brown eyes shoot me with a glare, hatred rippling like waves until it strikes me in my chest. Now heavy with anxiety and powerless to look away or focus on anything else, I have a hard time controlling my breathing. A panic attack is starting.

He has no right to look at me like that. He has no right to hate me. He walked away from me!

Seth must've felt how rigid I became, because I vaguely hear him whispering to me. I try to reflect the same amount of resentment as I stare back at Blake, neither one of us willing to look the other way. Seth stands in front of me and gets on my level, so I'm forced to break eye contact with Blake. He grabs my tense jaw, and I finally look at him. His blue eyes are hard, cobalt steel, and his jaw clenches. He must have seen him, too.

"Stop, Josie. I'm here . . . I'm here now." His eyes are so insistent and pure. He's trying so hard to "deserve" me, but he doesn't know that I'm the one who doesn't deserve him.

Hatred for the man across the room is keeping my heart from mending. I can't give Seth a heart that's so mangled. I swallow the pain at my realization and feel the sting of tears prickling my eyes. He looks hurt when he sees my eyes glistening, and he sighs. He probably thinks I'm not over Blake, and he's right. But he's wrong too. I'm over the affection I had for him. I'm not over my hurt and animosity. I don't correct him either way, and I try to calm myself, not wanting to have a panic attack in such a public place.

We hear a roar of applause and laughter, and I know that Brooke and Brandon have announced their baby news. I can't even join in with their happiness.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I say brusquely to Seth, walking away from his solace. I see his wounded expression before I turn away, and my heart aches even more. I need to calm down. I need to put my walls back up. I need to shelter myself against the pain.

I run into the bathroom and lock the stall. I crouch down on to the floor and put my hands on my head as I rock back and forth, worry, doubt, and fear consuming every cell in my body.

The hatred in Blake's eyes was too familiar. Too much like... nope. Don't think about it.

I rock until I feel my heartbeat go back to normal. I will _not_ let him control my emotions like that. He's controlled and manipulated too many of my feelings as it is. It's time to show him that I'm strong, even though he told me I was weak. I take a deep breath and count to five.

_One._ I never thought I would see him look at me like that. _Two._ I didn't know him as well as I thought I did. _Three._ You don't walk away from someone you love. _Four._ I _will_ be strong and get over this guilt. _Five._ He does not control me.

After I release the last molecule of breath in my lungs, I get up and walk out of the bathroom. I search for Seth and notice him by the bar talking to someone. The sight of him makes my heart flutter regardless of the newly built wall around my heart. I can't see who he's talking to and I don't want to interrupt, so I walk to the counter, grab a stool, and order a vodka cranberry. A little alcohol will help with the anxiety. I turn around and my breath catches when the person Seth's talking to comes into view.

His back is to me, but I can see his muscles tensed through his black shirt. His devastatingly sexy build doesn't make the sight of his little friend any easier to handle. Alice stands too close to Seth, wearing a short strapless green dress. She looks exquisite—straight, shoulder-length platinum blond hair, long luscious legs, and perfectly done makeup. She still looks like a goddamn model, and I still hate her.

The biggest pain I feel is the awareness that she's perfect for Seth. She's _exactly_ his type. The women he liked to fuck were almost always blondes. Very rarely would I find him with a redhead, and I can count on one hand how many times he's been with someone with dark hair like mine. Wait . . . just one . . . me. Well, at least that I know of—who knows the different types of women he was with while broadening his _horizons_ in another country. But Alice is the epitome of Southern belle, someone who could compliment Seth in multiple ways that I can't.

There's a fire boiling inside me; it starts in my toes and creeps its way up to my chest, throat, and face. I've never been as furious with someone as I am right now. _How dare she talk to him?_ _Who the hell does this bitch think she is, taking my—_ I stop myself from continuing, and I'm burdened again with melancholy. He's _not_ mine, so I really have no claim on him.

Knowing he's not mine doesn't stop the anger, however. Rage consumes me as I watch her flirt, my jaw starting to hurt from gritting so hard.

As she inches closer into Seth's space, he keeps looking over her shoulder at the bathroom doors. He must have missed me. A snide thought comes through my brain. What if he's looking to hide his flirting? What if he really is interested in the Blond Bitch?

But the malicious thoughts are wiped away when I watch him jerk away as she places her hand on his arm. It's quick and subtle, not overtly rude, and he keeps making subtle position changes so she doesn't touch him again.

He runs his hands through his blond hair, a sure sign of frustration, making it messier—the good, sexy kind of messy. It's cute. He will never know what that shrug-off means to me. My anger dissipates a little, but I still stare at Blond Bitch, hoping she'll look my way and see how badly I want to pound her face in. 

# Chapter 15

### Josie

"So which one is deserving of that look?" someone asks next to me.

I glance over briefly and see that someone has joined me, quietly taking the seat beside me. I ignore him and turn my eyes back to the man I want so desperately, letting my annoyance dominate my temperament. "It's the girl, isn't it?"

I look back over at him and crease my eyebrows. _Who the hell is this guy?_

He's got straight, dark brown hair that reaches just above his shoulder, and it's tied back at the nape of his neck so he looks more professional than unkempt. He's got smiling, honey brown eyes and a crooked smile that is sure to make most girls jump in his bed. He leans back on his elbows as he watches me, his black suit straining against his clearly amazing physique. He's very handsome.

"Why do you say that?" I question back, returning my attention to the conversation that Seth seems eager to leave.

"She kinda looks like a bitch," he says, winking at me when I turn my head back to him. I laugh under my breath and roll my eyes. "Plus you look like you want to claw someone's eyes out, and that's more of a girl fight move. Just let me know if you do, because I _so_ want to see that."

What the hell is this guy talking about?

"My money's on you by the way . . . ," he continues. I don't understand why he's still talking to me—I have no idea who he is.

"Um, okay," I say, stupidly. He nods his chin in Seth and Alice's direction and gives me a questioning look.

"Is that your boyfriend?" I try to swallow the sharp pain that the question causes in my throat and shake my head. No. No, he's not. "But you want him to be . . . ," he surmises.

I whip my head toward him and give him an exasperated look. "Who the fuck _are_ you?" I ask rudely. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"My bad, pretty lady. I'm Brody. This is my little brother's engagement party," he answers.

I know I look ridiculous as I gape at him, but I'm so shocked he's here. I was with Blake for four years, and I never even saw a picture of the kid, let alone met him. In fact, I'm positive Blake made sure I never had the chance to meet him.

"Brody's kind of a douchey name," I deadpan, turning my attention back to Seth. I take a sip of my drink, gaining more confidence as the drink numbs some of the anger that rakes my insides. He takes no offense to my remark and starts laughing deeply next to me. His laugh is almost contagious, but I haven't had enough to drink to really join in.

"Yeah, I suppose it is. Guess I should change it. I was thinking Brad might work . . . No, that's still too douchey. How about Chad?"

I laugh. All of the names still sound preppy and snobby, but I think that's his point.

Seth finally pivots himself enough times away from Alice's advances so that he's now turned in my direction. He visibly relaxes and knocks into Alice's shoulder as he walks up to me. He rolls his eyes, and it makes me happy that Alice seems to have had no effect on him. He sidles up next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. His face goes directly to my neck and he nibbles the side of it.

"Are you okay?" he whispers next to my ear. I close my eyes, feeling a sliver of peace as his concern washes over me. I wish I wasn't so broken, so I could give myself to him. I nod my head and am about to respond, but Mr. Annoying Weirdo starts talking again.

"So who's the bodyguard?"

I groan in my head. This should be fun. Seth smirks, but there's no humor in it. A feeling of warmth and peace hits me when he gets protective of me. That smirk intimidates most people, void of affection and promising of the damage he can do.

But for me, the sight welcomes a shock of exquisite feeling between my legs. Seth reaches his hand across the front of me, toward Brody. They shake hands briefly, but I know Seth sent a message from the way Brody flinches.

"Seth. And who's the douchebag, Pussycat?" Seth asks, looking at me. I push my lips together trying not to ruin the moment, but I can't stop myself from laughing. I laugh and Brody chuckles next to me, while Seth looks completely confused.

"Well, see, I'm the man this pretty lady just agreed to marry and run away with," Brody teases, wiggling his eyebrows. Seth's grip on my shoulders tightens and he narrows his eyes at Brody. I throw my hand out and smack Brody against the chest.

"This is Brody, Brandon's brother." I explain, purposely leaving out Blake's name. "We just met a second ago."

"Brandon's brother, huh?" I can see the anger burning behind Seth's beautiful eyes, so I wrap my arm around his waist, trying to comfort him. I lean into him as I finish off my drink.

"Yeah . . . and Blake. Do you know him?" Brody asks, nodding his head across the bar in the direction of where the enemy sits.

I look over and watch as Robbie and Blake talk to each other with heated gestures. It looks like Robbie is trying to take away the glass of whisky that Blake has in his hand. When Blake stands, he and Robbie are the same height, although Blake is a lot more muscular, wide, and intimidating. Robbie shakes his head sadly, and walks away. Alice takes his place and Blake wraps his arms around her, sitting her on his lap as he sits back down on his stool and burying his face in her neck in an intimate and thoroughly familiar gesture.

I bark out a laugh and turn back toward Brody who is watching the show as well, expression guarded.

"Well, I guess it's time to introduce myself. I'm Josie Sommers, and your father is the one who raped me." Sure, maybe my alcohol intake is making me bolder and stupider, but there's no need to keep hiding from the haunting truth. No more lies. "So yes. Yes, I do know Blake, because he and I dated for three fucking years and he never told me about that teeny-tiny fact."

Seth holds on to me tighter, nowhere close to being over his fury about the truth of what happened between Blake and me. Brody looks dumbstruck and completely at a loss for words. Eventually he shakes his head.

"Fuck . . . ," he says under his breath. There's no more joking in his eyes, but there's no pity either. In fact, if I had to define his look, I'd say it was a mix of understanding and sympathy. From someone who truly knows what I went through. "Well, fuck. That sucks."

"Tell me about it," I mutter, looking back into the crowd.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, all of us lost in thought. Seth simmers with anger. Brody looks like he's remembering something or someone. And I try not to think about anything but the feel of Seth's hand tracing patterns into my back. He teases me, using only one finger to feel my skin, but I want it all. I want both rough hands searing my skin in his exploration of my body. I press my legs together from pressure and need.

"Hey, Seth . . . Can you come help me with something?" Brandon asks, joining our solemn group. He slaps Seth on the back and has a huge smile on his face. Seth looks at me to make sure I'll be okay, and I nod my head. I'm a big girl.

"Yeah, as long as it doesn't take long," Seth answers, hesitant.

"What about me?" Brody asks, pretending to be offended.

"Ma wants to talk to you," Brandon responds, pointing in the direction that their mom must be. She hasn't said a word to me all night, but she did send a glare my way, making it clear that she knows what I've done. Guilt and shame stabs my chest again as I think about that. I didn't just abort a fetus; I took away a child and grandchild.

Seth and Brandon walk away, and Seth looks back twice before he disappears around the corner. Brody turns in my direction after they leave and grins at me. His humor has returned. He grabs my hand and kisses it, giving me a wink.

"Thought your boyfriend would never leave," he huffs. "It was very nice meeting you. I look forward to getting to know you more in the future."

I laugh and roll my eyes. The formal attitude is such a contradiction to the playful one he had earlier. He likes my reaction and pretends to bow to me before swiveling on his heels and walking toward his mom.

"Wait!" I call out. He turns back around and smiles, raising his eyebrows as he waits for me to continue. "You know who Alice is. . . "

He winks and blows me a kiss. "Exactly how I knew she was a bitch, darlin'." He turns back around after that, and walks away. I smile, thinking about my exchange with him. It makes me wonder why Blake seemed to have an issue with him. I assumed Brody was a stuck-up business man since he was running the family business, Golden Valley Brewery, in Pennsylvania, but he's not. At all.

I order another drink, and sit at the bar, watching the guests. I only glance at Blake one more time before I vow not look at him again. One hand gripped Alice's ass as she kissed his neck and the other brought his glass to his lips. I wasn't jealous like I was when Alice was talking to Seth, but I was definitely disgusted. He looked like a fool. This wasn't the Blake I knew. This one looked out of control and reckless. The Blake I dated was _always_ in control of his emotions and a gentleman to a fault.

After a few minutes of waiting for Seth, I decide to find Brooke. She smiles when I come up to her and makes room in her circle of friends for me to join the conversation.

"You having fun?" she asks. Her face is so bright with contentment that my heart swells. I always thought she was happy before, having parents with money, a partying lifestyle, the amazing looks, and a large group of friends, but she's never looked happier than she does tonight. I nod my head and smile, returning our attention to the group.

We talk—okay, _they_ talk—for a while, and I'm gradually becoming bored. Gossip and girl-talk has never been my thing, and I find out quickly that I don't fit in with this group of girls. While I ignore another conversation about how hot David Beckham is, I look around for Seth, disappointed when I see no sign of him.

Someone grabs my arm and pulls me away from the group. The hand is large and strong, but _very_ unwanted. Anxiety and fear prickle my insides. How do I get out of this without making a scene? It seems I might be too late, since a few eyes watch him turn me around and hold me to him. I'm frozen solid in a thousand layers of shock.

"Come on, love . . . Dance with me," Blake slurs, trying to get me to stop squirming. His grip tightens and I worry about getting a bruise from his hold. I can't believe he's doing this. This isn't right. This isn't Blake. He pulls me in again and talks into my ear. "You look so fucking hot tonight, Jo. All I can think about is fucking you again."

"Stop it, Blake," I whisper harshly, trying to pull my arms out of his grip without drawing too much attention. As I look around, I see it's definitely too late. Multiple curious eyes look our way, wondering what's happening. Blake's dark brown eyes are almost black with bitterness and I smell whisky on his breath.

I always feared there might be a side of Blake I didn't know. Seth hinted at it before, but I ignored him. I even ignored the pure anger I had witnessed once during our first year of dating, when his mom told him who I was. That glimpse is nothing compared to the revolting person standing in front of me.

"No, I won't stop until you let me fuck that tight pussy. You always were a good fuck, Jo. That last time wasn't enough to satisfy me."

"No, Blake. Stop it. You're drunk and I don't want you touching me." I pull one of my arms out of his clutches, but he's still got a hold on my other. There's definitely going to be a bruise. Tears sting my eyes from the pain, but I don't want him to see me weak. I turn my face away, and he takes the opportunity to talk into my ear.

_Why is no one interfering?_ This is my worst nightmare coming true, and there's no one to help me. All the lessons I've learned in self-defense evade me, and I'm suddenly a victim again.

"Oh, come on. Don't you worry about a thing, love," he mockingly reassures, running his hand against the side of my face.

Malevolence gleams in his eyes, and terror crashes around me, coldness enveloping me until I'm numb. He's trying to hurt me. He's not being some drunken idiot. He knows exactly what he's doing, and that makes this whole situation ten times worse. He's no longer keeping the conversation between the two of us. He announces his next words loudly and clearly.

"I'll make sure to double up on the condoms before I fuck your slutty cunt. That way you don't have to worry about killing another one of our babies. Or—what did you say? _Terminate_ another pregnancy."

Abhorrence drips in his voice. I'm embarrassed and sick, but most of all, I'm fucking livid! I raise my hand and slap him as hard as I can across his face. There's a gasp in the now quiet room, but my focus is only on this man who just purposely hurt and humiliated me in front of everyone. Before I can raise my hand again, someone grabs me from behind and pulls me away from Blake. Seth rushes past me and punches Blake in his eye without a moment's hesitation.

Blake grunts, but he doesn't look deterred. In fact, he leers at Seth, who looks like he's about to kill Blake. Brandon comes up and holds Seth back, so Seth's fuming, trying to get past him to get to Blake. Blake's a pretty even match against Seth, but I see rage pulsating from Seth and I absolutely believe that Seth could murder Blake.

"Oh, lookie here, guys. Josie's boyfriend is back in town," Blake announces loudly in a smarmy tone. He looks at Seth condescendingly and smiles. "She tell you I fucked her a couple weeks ago? I know how much you like fucking whores. You want her whore ass, then you can have her. Just make sure not to knock her up if you don't want her killing your kid, too," he spits the last part in my direction.

I whimper in the arms of the stranger holding me back. The pain is unbearable. I look to the right and see Brooke staring at me. Her face is pale and her mouth is open. One hand covers her mouth as if she's going to be sick, and the other holds her stomach. I can see the disdain in her eyes, disgusted by what I've done. Who I turned out to be. She shakes her head and walks away from the scene.

It feels like someone is slicing me open from the pit of my stomach to my throat. Do I deserve this? Is this my punishment for getting an abortion? The tiny fragments of my heart and soul that had been starting to mend since Seth came back shatter at my realization.

I hate Blake. But I hate myself more. I'm going to be punished for the rest of my life for my choice.

# Chapter 16

### Seth

If there ever was a reason to go to prison for murder, it would be the moment I saw Blake hurting Josie.

Brandon and I were walking back into the building from unloading some amps into the restaurant, and I searched for her immediately. I saw her pushed up against Blake, and fear and anger were as evident in her face as the full moon shining outside. He was talking to her, and I saw her struggle to get out of his grip.

And no one was fucking helping! What the fuck were they doing standing there?

"Motherfucker . . . ," I said harshly. All that mattered was getting to her. He waited until I was gone to approach her, and I didn't trust that his intentions were good. I saw the way he looked at her earlier. He looked like he wanted to destroy her. I watched her walls go back up, and I could've killed him then for causing that.

I pushed through the crowd, but they were making it hard to reach her quickly. Time was in slow motion as I approached them. Her tanned skin appeared pale as she looked at him in hatred and terror. My heart pounded in my chest and anger ran through my blood.

And then he announced the abortion to the room. I had finally reached them and I watched as Josie slapped him across his face. Brody held her back from hitting him again, but I rushed past them and punched him again for her. I want to murder him.

Brandon blocks me from hitting him again, but everything in me needs to make him bleed. I haven't been this driven with fury since I found Josie in the alley being raped. By this asshole's father.

Then he calls her a whore. He can say whatever bullshit he wants about me, but when he starts insulting the girl I love, my consideration about beating his ass at my best friend's engagement party flies out the window.

I look at Brandon in annoyance, and he sighs and shrugs. He backs off, giving me permission to give another blow to Blake. I grab his shirt with one hand and bring my other fist to his nose.

"Get her out of here, Brody. Take her out front, I'll be there in a minute," I throw behind my shoulder.

I turn back around, not waiting for a reply, and shove Blake against the closest wall. I lose count of how many times I punch him, but he doesn't fight back, only stares vacantly ahead, accepting the punishment. I don't say anything-- zoned in on hurting him.

He hurt my girl. The look on her face was one of utter brokenness, one I haven't seen since before I got her to start talking again after being raped. That look inflames my motivation to hurt him back. Until I feel someone trying to pull me back.

"Stop it, Seth! Finish it somewhere else, but stop for Brooke's sake. Please," Brandon begs, trying to grab my arm. I don't want to stop, but I also know that if I don't break myself away, I'll knock him out.

I shove Blake one last time, and he lets out a grunt. His face is swollen and his lip and nose are bleeding. I lean down next to his ear.

"You touch or talk to her ever again, and I will _not_ stop. You're fucking lucky your brother is here, because I want to murder you," I whisper, voice harsh with hatred.

I don't wait for a response and I let him go, stalking to the front door. People let me pass much more easily this time, and I search for Josie as soon as I get outside. She's crouched at the end of the building, rocking back and forth—the mechanism she uses when her anxiety is too much for her to handle. Brody is squatted in front of her, talking to her gently.

"Go," I demand when I walk up to them. He looks at me and doesn't question my instruction, getting up and moving back so I can get through. I kneel down in front of her and hold her chin. She keeps her eyes closed, but I can see the streaks of tears marked against her perfect face.

"Look at me, Josie," I say softly. She refuses to look at me and crushes her eyes together harder. I stroke my thumb across her jaw and wait. "Please . . . I'm here, baby. Just look at me."

It takes her a moment, but she finally opens her eyes and looks at me. My heart fragments when I see the look in her eyes. Her eyes are bloodshot, but worse than that, I can see a haunted look in the depths of them. She was more than hurt back there, she was shattered.

Pain sears my chest, making it hard to breathe. I continue to stroke her jaw and bring my other hand to her hair, trying to comfort her as she looks at me with her wrecked soul completely on display.

"It'll be okay, Josie. Do _not_ let him get to you. You did nothing wrong," I try to reassure her. I can see her slipping away from me.

I'm losing her.

"I killed my baby, Seth. Brooke couldn't even look at me," she rasps, her voice cracking.

"Fuck Brooke. She's pregnant so she doesn't get it. Josie, you did what you had to do. You made a choice that you felt was right. No one else gets to judge you for that."

" _I_ judge me for it. I could've made another choices."

"But you didn't. You can't go back in time and change it. But you also can't let it ruin your future."

"It's ruining my future whether I try to stop it or not. This is payback. I can't . . . " She whimpers a little as she tries to speak. Every sob she lets out is another stab into my heart.

I'm really losing her.

"Please, Josie. Listen to me, you are perfect in every way to me. I support the choice you made. Don't let him take this away from you." I'm talking about more than her pain from getting the abortion. I know exactly what she's going to say. I know she's backing away from the relationship we had just started to build.

She stands up, pulling away from my hold on her. She's hardening herself, and I watch as the pain in her eyes is blocked by a stoic expression I can't assess.

"I can't do this, Seth. I can't be with you like this. I just need you to be my friend," she states, steeling her voice. My heart breaks more at her words. Why is she doing this?

"Jos . . . _Please_ . . . This doesn't change anything. I love you for every accomplishment you've made, and every single mistake you've made. Categorize that abortion however you want, but it does _not_ change the fact that I am _so_ in love with you."

"This changes _everything,_ Seth!" she says, raising her voice.

"This changes _nothing_ , Josie!" I roar, getting in her space. She flinches, but hides it quickly by looking away from me. "I promise we'll take things slow, Jos. I won't push you, just don't give up on this," I plead, softening my voice.

"It's not about taking it slow. It's that I don't want it anymore." Her eyes bore into mine, and I can't figure out what she's really feeling—she's hiding from me.

"Don't want it, Josie? Or won't let yourself have what you want because you don't think you're worthy?" I inquire roughly.

She's hurting me.

"It doesn't matter." She's no longer looking at me. Her indirect answer proves that my theory is right. She doesn't think she deserves something good.

"It matters a whole lot, Jos . . . ," I say, my voice soft and sad. She looks back at me, but doesn't really look at me.

I've lost her. She's done talking.

"I want you as my friend and that's it, Seth. Just let it go." I walk up to her until my chest is pressed against hers. The pain roars like an earthquake shaking me up inside, but I can't let it go.

"You're fucking stupid if you think I'll let this go, Jos. You can run. You can hide your feelings away. You can do whatever the fuck you need to do to make yourself feel better, but make _no_ mistake, I _will_ keep trying. You're not something I can just let go of. You're _everything_ to me, and I will love you even when you don't want me to." I push her hair behind her ear and trace her jaw, and the only reaction I get is the show of chills across her collarbone. It's enough for me. "So run and hide, Pussycat, but I'll keep coming back. I'll _always_ fight for you."

She takes a shuddering breath, but she still walks out of my embrace. I close my eyes, sealing in the pain. The horror of losing her.

"Can you take me home?" she asks quietly to Brody. My blood boils again at her request.

"What the _fuck_ , Josie! I'll take you home. You're not asking some stranger to take you home. Don't be dumb." She's going out of her way to hurt me, and it's working.

Brody looks at me, and even though I don't think he'll hurt her, I don't want her to go with him.

"I don't mind taking you home," Brody says talking to Josie but keeping his eyes on me.

"Josie!" I exclaim, walking back to her. "He's one of _them_ . . . You can't go with him."

"One of them, Seth? What about Brandon? You would trust Brandon!"

"Brandon's my best friend!" I yell.

She winces, but I'm too angry to care. "I'll take you home, Jos. Stop trying to hurt me."

There's a flash of remorse in her eyes, but it vanishes quickly. She turns back to Brody, whose eyes haven't left mine. I don't see any challenge in his expression, just sympathy.

"Where's your car?" she whispers, not looking at me. Brody looks at her and points to his silver Audi that sits only a few feet away.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I mutter, running my hands through my hair. She goes to the car and doesn't spare me a glance as she gets in the front seat. Brody stands, waiting for me to say something, and I approach him angrily, shoving his shoulder. "I'm following you. Hurt her, and I'll kill you and your brother together."

He nods and goes to the front seat of his car. I walk to my truck and as soon as I get in my front seat I bang my fists against the steering wheel.

Why does she always have to make things ten times harder?

I follow her the whole way and appreciate when Brody goes out of his way to make sure I don't get stuck at a stoplight or get far behind them. I seethe as I watch him walk her up to her apartment, but I'm thankful he makes sure she gets there safely. I lean against the truck and wait for him to come back down the stairs.

He walks to me when he exits the apartment building.

"She's just hurting, man. She doesn't mean what she said."

"What the fuck do you care?" I hiss, anger nowhere near close to gone.

"You've never tried to push her away to try to make her happy?" he questions, leaning against my truck.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Actually, I do. I know _exactly_ what it means to push someone away for their own protection. To know that someone is better off. To know that you could never be what they need. And that's exactly what she's doing."

I shake my head and look up to the window of Josie's apartment. I don't know why this guy is still talking. "I thought we were done with this drama shit, and then Blake had to hurt her again. Now she's hiding from me." I don't know why I don't just get in my truck and leave.

"She wants you, though. When you were talking to Alice earlier, she looked like she was going to murder her," he says chuckling. I breathe out a laugh. That bitch wouldn't leave no matter how many times I tried to get away. The fact that Josie was a little jealous makes me smirk.

"She's never liked when I talk to other girls . . . It's the only thing that made me think she felt something for me."

"When you came out there and knelt with her, I could see something there. You two have something that most people don't have or understand. Just give her time," he says, pulling himself away from the truck.

"Thanks for bringing her back," I say reluctantly. I'm not pleased that she didn't ride with me, but I'm glad he kept her safe.

"No problem, man. See you around," he says and walks back to his car. I get back in my car and drive home.

I feel an emptiness control my actions. I've lost a piece of my soul tonight by allowing Josie to get hurt, and it fucking kills me. I'm never there to stop her pain, and now I'm getting payback for it. She's pushing me away—making me feel hollow and incomplete. I need that girl more than I need to live.

Just a few hours ago, I was kissing her and promising her the world. And even though she never told me how she felt about me, I _saw_ it. Can she really just let it go without looking back? The thought is terrifying.

The pain is a catalyst to try even harder. I lost her once to that prick, and it's not happening again. My old therapist would tell me to put my pain into something productive, so as soon as I get home I grab my easel and sit out on my balcony. I set up, lay out my paints, and clip a picture to the top of the canvas. I take a deep breath and paint.

I'm fighting for her. That's my _only_ inspiration. 

# September
# Chapter 17

### Josie

Pretending like I don't care and that nothing affects me is difficult this time around.

I try my hardest not let my feelings show, and for the most part I'm successful. But then there are those moments when Seth makes me smile. I can make my face stoic and act like I am impenetrable, but that doesn't mean that my insides don't rage with my feelings.

Most days when I get home from spending time with him, I have to go directly to my shower as a way to help calm my emotions. I cry, I laugh, I _feel_ in there, but I never bring it back out into the real world. I can't show it, or I'll get hurt again. Or worse than that, I'll hurt Seth again.

Seth. The hurt on his face the night of the engagement party three months ago broke my heart. Every time I think about it, pain spreads over me all over again. I wanted him. I wanted to be his and I had every intention of telling him exactly how I felt, but after what Blake did, I knew I didn't deserve him.

Blake's words, while completely hurtful, were so accurate. I'm a terrible person, and I'll never be good enough for the love of someone as amazing as Seth.

I'd wondered if I made the right choice in getting an abortion, and I always felt like I did, but the look on Brooke's face and the hatred in Blake's eyes made me rethink my choice.

For three months, I've been having nightmares . . . Well, just one nightmare, really. As if the pain in my life couldn't get worse, I'm haunted by agony at night.

It always starts out beautifully. Seth and I are lying under the stars holding hands, happy and content. Then the stars rain down on us, burning our flesh, and when I look up, I'm looking into the dark brown eyes of my rapist, who's choking me. As soon as I'm about to die, his face is replaced by Blake's, his eyes cold and dark. We're kneeling in the middle of a graveyard, and between us is a tiny box. He speaks to me, but I can't hear him. I keep asking him what he's saying, and eventually he points to the box. I look down and start to open the box, but get distracted by something warm and red soaking through my shirt. Blood covers my hands and stomach, and dread douses me. There's a knife in my shaking hand. I look back to the box and find it open.

Every time I look in the box I scream. I never see what's in it, but whatever it is terrifies me.

I never realized that I actually scream in my sleep until the first time Seth spent the night since the party. It was about a month later, and he fell asleep on the couch after we watched a movie. I never woke him up because it was my one opportunity to look at him with outright honesty. Yes, he was asleep, but I sat there and pictured us in a different life where we could be free to have our relationship without our past tearing it apart.

I was jolted awake by Seth straddling me and holding my face in his hands. His face was filled with concern, and he kept asking me if I was okay. He stroked my hair back as I cried and then lay on the bed, folding me into his arms.

"It'll be okay, baby. I'm here," he kept saying. He repeated it until I fell asleep, gently rocking me into a calm state.

When he asked me what happened the next morning, worry vibrant in his eyes, I couldn't tell him the truth. So I told him it was a nightmare about the scary movie we had watched, and he reluctantly let it go. I made sure he didn't spend the night again after that.

But with Seth Montgomery, that didn't last long. A couple weeks ago, we both fell asleep on my couch, and I had my nightmare again. I woke up to him on top of me rubbing my hair out of my face, and telling me to wake up. He carried me to my bed and held me for the rest of the night. The next morning I could feel his anger before I even walked into my kitchen.

I was instantly distracted as I walked into the space. Seth. Shirtless. I don't think I need to explain my lack of focus. Or the drool.

"You lied to me," he said gruffly, sitting on the barstool at my counter. His blond hair flopped in front of his eyes, and my hands itched to push it back. Touching him again the way I wanted to would satisfy only a millimeter of the need I have, but it would relieve some of the pain. I turned around to hide my thoughts.

"Ugh . . . I need coffee," I said vacantly, reaching for my coffee maker. I didn't even hear Seth move, but his hand grabbed mine and he turned me around, placing his hands beside me on the countertop to trap me. My breath caught, and I was positive he could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

His blue-green eyes screamed hurt and anger, but I didn't even care about him being mad. All that mattered was the charge that thumped between us. I was _very_ aware of him.

"You lied, Josie. You're not supposed to lie to me."

"Seth . . . Come on," I said, turning my face away, unable to look at the raw emotion in his expression. His hand dashed out and grabbed my chin.

"How long, Josie?" he asked. I closed my eyes, not wanting to admit anything. "Open your damn eyes, Jos. Stop fucking hiding." His voice was hard, but it was also full of desperation. I opened my eyes and narrowed them at him.

He didn't understand that I _needed_ to keep him away from me. My life is tainted by darkness, and he doesn't need that. Yes, I lied to the one person who I said I wouldn't deceive again, but it was for his own good!

"It doesn't matter, Seth. I'm fine."

"Like fucking hell it doesn't matter. I haven't heard you scream like that since your nightmares after you were raped!"

The haunting reminder brought back vivid memories of that time. He or one of my dads would come lay with me to help me fall asleep. Every day that Seth wasn't in school, he was there with me, trying to make the nightmares go away.

"Since the engagement party," I whispered, looking down. I don't know why I admitted it, but I think part of me realized I couldn't hold on to all this pain anymore.

That's when my resolve started to break. How long could I go on fighting the feelings that I have for Seth? How long could I act like nothing hurts me?

" _Fuck_ , Jos . . . ," he whispered back, placing his forehead against mine. His signature smell of hay and apple pie drifted around me, and I almost lost my footing from wanting him so bad. "You should have told me."

"I didn't want you to worry."

"I worry about you every second you're not with me, Pussycat. Every second that you hide behind that wall you've built, I wonder when you're going to crack." His hand reached up to caress my face, and I leaned into his touch. It was only an infinitesimal movement, but I still heard Seth's breath hitch. My lapse in self-control made him bold. He brought his mouth to the side of mine, and kissed me. I couldn't stop the whimper before it escaped my mouth.

"There you are," he whispered hoarsely against my lips, always seeing me, even when I didn't want him to. I wanted to bask in the moment, but I had already opened up to him too much. I pushed through his barricade and ran back to my room.

"I've got to help Dad at the garage today," I threw out as an explanation, and then I went to hide in my shower.

He's been staying at my place since that night, holding me and trying to wipe away the nightmares that plague my dreams. They don't seem as bad when I wake up to his concerned eyes and comforting hands. In the mornings he gets up early to go help his dad on the farm, but it doesn't change the fact that he's here when I need him the most.

Things are definitely harder this time around. The other times that we would go back to being friends, we were able to do it effortlessly. I had Blake to take my mind off of what I was feeling, and Seth had . . . women. This time, neither of us wants other people, and that makes things tougher.

Every morning he wakes me up with a text saying something either funny or sweet. He'll tell me something he loves about me, making it impossible not to be affected. I want to look at him as just my best friend, but no amount of lying to myself is working. And Seth is suffering too. I can tell he still wants to be with me, but he's also being respectful of the fact that I'm not ready.

But ever since the day he found out about my dreams and I showed him that he still affects me, whimpering like a fool when he kissed me, he's been more active in trying to get me to react again.

Like right now.

The sun hasn't even risen, but I'm very alert and aware of Seth's strong hand rubbing circles into my hip. I'm so glad I'm facing away from him, able to hide my open mouth, breathless and needy for him. I try to stay as still as possible, but it's hard when he grips my side and pushes his chest into my back. He breathes roughly as he buries his face in my neck.

His tongue slides out and tastes the skin on my throat, the tiniest of flicks, but it leaves a searing sensation on my skin. I let out a hoarse moan, and I can only hope that he thinks I'm doing it in my sleep—because of some erotic dream. I'm not eager to push him off of me, so I pretend to sleep.

I don't know if he believes I'm asleep or not, but I _do_ know that he liked my moan, because I feel him harden against my back. My thighs squeeze together subtly, trying to control the jolt of heat that he's creating. His hand glides under my shirt, sliding from my hip to wrap around my stomach, and pushes his hard bulge harder into my back. I take in a deep breath.

While his hand rubs my flat stomach, his mouth kisses my neck passionately. It's everything he would do in a kiss on my mouth, but he does it on my neck. It's unbelievably sensual, the heat of his tongue scorching my cool skin in a battle of my senses. I hope he thinks the chills that run across my skin are from the cold and not from him. The darkness makes me feel like I can live in the moment for just one second.

His hand moves to the band of my pajama pants, and he slips his fingers under the elastic. I feel the rumble in his chest as he heaves and groans with need. But he leaves me too hastily. He pulls away from me and turns over. I don't have to look at him to know he's running his hands over his face and hair, trying to calm down. After about a minute of silence, he gets out of the bed, and I hear him get dressed.

I keep my eyes closed and try to calm my pounding heart until he leaves. He gets dressed quickly, and then he's in front of me. I don't move as his hand pushes my hair back. I feel his lips whisper against my cheek.

"I know you're awake, Pussycat . . . ," he murmurs huskily. _Shit._ His mouth moves to my ear, and he flicks my earlobe with his tongue, sending a stabbing shock to my core. "I can make you feel so much more than that, all you have to do is let me in."

He brings his mouth down to mine and brushes his lips against mine until I gasp. Feeling satisfied, I'm sure, he gets up and leaves the apartment. I groan as soon as the door shuts and flop onto my back.

How am I supposed to protect him from my broken heart if I keep encouraging him with the way I respond to him?

I stare at the ceiling for an infinite amount of time and try to calm the fuck down. Why is it so much different now? Why is it so much harder to act like he makes me feel nothing? I question myself for another hour before my phone chimes with my morning text. I'm almost afraid to look.

**Seth: _Morning, pretty girl_ . . . _Let's see, today I love the way your skin gets goose bumps when I touch you or kiss you_**

I groan again. It's so sexy. And sweet. And it affects me more than it should.

**Me: _I like when you brush your teeth before talking to me in the morning_**

It's become a common defense to reply to his sweetness with something funny or bitter. Unlike me, his breath is shockingly never bad in the morning and he knows it, but I don't know how else to respond.

I can't tell him I love the way his rough hands touch me. I can't tell him he makes me wet when he kisses my neck. I can't tell him he makes me lose my breath when he holds me.

I just can't. This is my punishment.

I hop in the shower and start my day. As I wash my body, I think about the way Seth touched me just an hour ago. My nipples harden and the throbbing between my legs gets more intense. I lean against the shower wall and slide my hand between my legs. Seeing Seth's body wash in the corner of the shower, I pick it up, lather some in my hands, and put my hand back between my thighs, gasping as I let myself feel the sensations I always lock away. I let myself think about all the ways I want Seth and everything he could offer me if I opened up to him.

My moans increase as the pressure of my hand increases. I see Seth's eyes boring into mine as he slides his hands over my body. That's all I need. His eyes in my head and the pressure on my much neglected pussy bring me to the highest point of desire. My toes curl beneath me, and I breathe heavily as I reach my orgasm, letting out a small cry as I shudder under the hot water.

It's not even close to the satisfaction I know Seth can bring me, but it does help relieve some of the aching. I finish my shower, washing myself in his smell, and get dressed for school. My phone blinks with a missed message.

**Seth: _Lol funny girl_ . . . _Meet me at the warehouse after you get off work_**

I smile, excited that he wants me to come over and see him work. Every once in a while he'll let me watch him work during his photo shoots in the warehouse he rents. Sometimes there will be couples getting sexy photos together and other times it'll be families who want pictures done.

But the only person my eyes are on is Seth. Fingers gliding over the black plastic of the camera. Eyes focused on his subjects and his surroundings, carefully eyeing correct angles and lighting. Hair falling over his eyes, and mouth pursed to the side in constant thought. He's so focused on his work that he doesn't pay attention to the way I watch him.

There's nothing more attractive than watching that man with a camera.

**Me: _Be there at 4!_**

**Seth: _I'll be thinking about that sexy moan all day, Pussycat_**

I can practically see him laughing as he sends the message. I roll my eyes, and put my phone in my purse.

The elementary school is only a ten-minute drive away, so I usually get there early. The solitude of the classroom before the crazy third graders invade the space is welcome, especially this morning. I vacillate between torturing myself with thoughts of the way Seth touched me this morning, and meditating in hopes of getting him out of my head. Sitting at my desk, I realize very quickly that he had no intention of letting me get through the day without thinking about him. That's exactly why he sent that text before I left for work.

The day goes quickly, even though the kids are extra excited because it's Friday. The lunchroom banter between teachers makes the day even better because they all gossip about the students and parents. I've made a couple friends, but I'm not really one to get close to people easily, so my friendships are limited to in-school only.

As soon as the last student leaves, I pack up my books and head out to my car. To say I'm eager about going to see Seth is an understatement. The warehouse is about fifteen minutes away, so I rush out of the employee parking lot to get there by four. Once I pull up and cut the engine, I close my eyes and lean my head against the headrest. I let out a long sigh and question myself for the hundredth time today.

My desire to see Seth outweighs my knowledge that I don't deserve to be happy, and I walk into the studio using the side entrance. Seth and his dad built a lot of the features in the space, and it looks incredible. On one side there are five different sets for the scandalous pictures, and on the other there are five different scenes for family pictures. A divider separates each section, so there's privacy for the customers. I hear murmuring coming from the opposite side of the building—the sexy side.

Seth only invites me to stop by when the person getting the photos doesn't care if there are visitors, so I walk back there without a second thought.

"Beautiful," Seth whispers when I walk into the setup.

In this space, a blush pink chaise sits in the center of a room that looks like it's stuck in the thirties. Different shades of pink splash against the wall, lamps, and decorations. The woman being photographed is alone on the chaise, lying on her stomach, head resting on her hand. Her blond hair is in loose curls, and there's a silver sequined headband wrapped around her head. She's naked except for a pale blue sheer fabric covering the majority of her backside.

Seth's standing in front of her face, fiddling with her hair before taking another picture. He had been talking to her. Calling _her_ beautiful. I'm starting to regret coming. Usually when he asks me to come, it's a couple who are getting pictures together. My fingernails bite the skin on my palms as I watch Seth looking at her so intently.

When I unclench my fists, I feel them shaking from my irritation. The swooshing sound of my rapid heartbeat roars in my ears. Seth moves to the end of the lounge and kneels down so he can capture the length of her legs and back, her hair cascading to the middle of her spine. I turn around to leave, but Seth's voice stops me.

"No need to leave, Pussycat," he says, turning around to smirk at me. I want to slap that stupid smirk off his handsome face. I narrow my eyes, but his grin just widens at my reaction. The beautiful girl turns her head in my direction and smiles.

"Funny . . . When Seth kept talking about his Pussycat, I thought he was referring to a real cat," she says with a wink. Using those manners Daddy insisted on teaching me, I give her a timid smile. Seth takes one last candid shot of the woman and picks something up off of the floor. He hands her a robe and turns around to walk to me.

Seth wears a black Sleeping with Sirens T-shirt and dark jeans that fit snugly on his hips. The muscles in his arms look more defined than they were when he first came back from Europe, delectable as they strain against the sleeves in his shirt. He snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his chest.

My face turns away from his, fearful he'll see my possessiveness. Or how good I think it feels when he holds me like this. Instead of blocking him out, I end up letting him in—he takes advantage of the open access to my neck and runs his tongue over my pulse.

He hums lightly and nibbles the spot he just licked.

"You're jealous," he murmurs throatily. "You couldn't hide it quick enough, pretty girl." I whip my head around and glare at him. He takes the opportunity to breathe me in. "You smell like my body wash. That's so sexy . . . " His voice is strained with craving, and I know I need to get out of his embrace before I cave.

I shove his shoulders and walk away. He makes me crazy. He makes me feel too much. He chuckles behind me and it takes all my willpower not to punch him in the face like when we were kids.

The pretty blonde stands, now dressed in her robe and watching us with a small grin. Seth comes up next to me, and I tense as he puts his arm around my shoulders. Why does he affect me so much?

"Josie, this is Alayna. Alayna is getting pictures done for her girlfriend who is in Afghanistan for another six months," Seth explains.

He purposely explains it this way so I won't keep worrying. I let out a long, relieved breath and smile at Alayna with more genuineness. Her grin widens and she puts her hand in front of Seth's face.

"Pay up, buddy," she says, laughing. Seth shakes his head and shoves her hand away.

"I'll take it off your bill," he says with an easy laugh. He turns toward me and kisses the side of my head. I'm so confused.

Alayna notices my perplexed expression. "Your lover boy here swore he wasn't going to mention that I have no interest in men, just so he could see you sweat, but I bet him he wouldn't make it ten minutes. And he didn't," she says, humor in her tone. They must know each other; there's an ease and camaraderie between them.

"He's not my _anything_. . . So it doesn't matter," I grumble, unsure of why I say it even as the words leave my mouth. I see Seth's jaw tick in frustration and he drops his arm from around me. The emptiness takes over again and I'm suddenly freezing.

Why am I always hurting him? 

# Chapter 18

### Seth

"Put your hand here." I point to the thick headboard that has a silk rope tie on one end. I wrap her wrist in it, and then look at her again. "Okay . . . and put your other hand on your throat." I chuckle when she clutches her hand against her neck.

"Try not to choke yourself, Alayna . . . Like this," I instruct, placing her hand subtly on her neck. "Perfect."

I pull up my camera and take shots of her face up close. Then I move to each of her hands and capture the subtle sexiness of one being tied to the bed and the other touching her own skin. Once I get the close-ups finished, I climb to the top of the bed frame. I capture her pale skin against the dark frame and the dark sheets, and it looks good . . . really good.

I met Alayna and Jess in London when I went out to a pub to try to drink away my pain, and they were nice company. Nothing sexual, just some girls to talk to that I wasn't trying to fuck. They were taking a vacation before Jess was set to be deployed, and London was their vacation of choice. I found out that they lived only about three hours away from where I lived in the U.S., so I told them to hit me up if they ever wanted pictures done.

She looks up at me when she notices I'm finished with the pictures. "Did I say something wrong?" she whispers when I go to untie her hand, nodding in the direction of where Josie is sitting.

I feel Josie's eyes piercing into me as she watches. She thinks I don't notice the way she looks at me when she watches me work, but I notice. I feel everything about her. I knew she was here as soon as she walked in, because the energy inside of me was screaming to connect with her.

"No. She's just trying to push me away," I say, notes of frustration evident as I speak.

"I don't get it," she whispers introspectively.

"She's been playing this game for the last three months. I'm used to it, but it doesn't make it any less hurtful." I sit on the bed next to her as she puts on her robe. "It pisses me off. I keep thinking she's starting to open up, and then she says shit like that. She doesn't need to rub it in my face that she doesn't want me."

"I just don't get it," she mutters again. "It's like she's trying to punish herself or something."

That's _exactly_ what she's doing. I shrug and get off the bed. The last thing I need to do is rehash the nightmares that haunt Josie.

Every morning I wake up without her next to me is another reminder of how I couldn't get her to open up. We've done the _friends_ thing. She's my best friend, so of course that works for us. What doesn't work is knowing what we could be together if she just let me in. I know she feels _something_. I watch her every day as she tortures herself, burdening her conscience with guilt that she shouldn't have.

Fucking Blake. He put his claws in her at that party and broke her, ripped her heart and soul to shreds. I see the haunted look in her eyes deepen every day that she doesn't let me help. She feels guilty about what she did, like she doesn't deserve a speck of happiness. She feels like she's meant to be alone.

I get it.

I get it because I know how that feels. I understand not being good enough and feeling undeserving. I couldn't save her and protect her against the most horrid thing that could ever happen to someone. But just because I don't deserve her doesn't mean I won't try every day for the rest of my life to show her I can be good enough.

It drove me insane to find out that she was having nightmares every night since the night Blake hurt her. He humiliated her and snuck his way into her conscious. For the last three months, I've watched her hate herself more every day. Fire rages inside me every time I think about what he did.

I want to finish what I started. I want to rip out his heart and strangle him for the pain he put her through. Unfortunately, Brandon's been going out of his way to make sure I never make contact with Blake.

I want to take away the images that haunt her, but I've been through this with her before and know it'll take a lot of time before she gets over it. I would take her place if I could, but until then, I hold her in my arms and cherish the small piece of her that admits she might still need me.

"You looked amazing, Alayna. Jess is going to love them." I try to shake the dark places my emotions are running toward.

She beams and claps her hands. "Ahhh, I'm so excited. I can't wait 'til you edit them!"

I smile sincerely at her enthusiasm. She's beautiful, not as gorgeous as Josie, but definitely stunning; Jess is a lucky woman. "Shouldn't be more than a week."

I walk her to the back room where she stashed her clothes, and when she goes in to change, I take a deep breath, running my hands through my hair. How does Josie act so unaffected and callous? She played on her phone for the rest of the shoot as if her words didn't rip me open.

I _know_ she was jealous. I could see it in her eyes when she looked at me. It's such a contradiction with the cold heart that she's shown me recently. So many times in the last three months, her bitterness has made me believe that she really does just want me as a friend.

Man could she be vicious, too, and every time she is, it's a motherfucking stab to my heart. It makes me question what the hell I'm doing.

I'm not going to force her to be with me.

But then there are those other moments. The flash of affection in her eyes. The way she leans into a touch without thinking. The way she holds her breath and closes her eyes in an attempt to compose herself. Or the way she moans when she doesn't think I hear.

_Those_ things keep me moving and trying.

Josie comes up next to me and leans against the wall. She sighs and turns her head toward me.

"I'm sorry, Seth. I don't know why I said that," she whispers.

My hand goes to my hair again, and I grip it briefly before letting go. "No worries, Josie. It's the truth." I pull away from the wall and walk backwards, hands extended and palms upward in a show of feigned indifference. "And I know how much you like hurting me, so I should've expected it."

I turn back around so I don't have to see her expression after I say it. It's meant to hurt, but I feel like it's true. Her small feet patter behind me as she tries to catch up to me.

"Hey. That's not really fair," she calls to me.

I whip around and face her. My fists clench as I try to control the anger that's consuming me. Not even the cute sundress and flats make her look innocent to me right now. I'm so fucking done with her and her attitude.

"You know what's not fair, Josie?" I ask, stalking in her direction. I back her into the wall and place my hands beside her head.

She raises her chin and gives me a challenging look. "What?" she asks, bitchily. It takes more willpower than I thought I had to not pull her dress up and fuck the bitch out of her.

"It's not fucking fair of you to keep pretending like you feel nothing. It's not fair that you get to keep hurting me and getting away with it. It's not _fair_ that you're making me suffer for something someone else did to you!"

"You don't understand!" she shouts, narrowing her eyes.

"That's because you won't fucking let me!" I say, raising my voice. My face heats in fury and my veins are bulging in my arms.

"I'm not trying to hurt you!" she yells back, face red in frustration. And I can't help but notice how gorgeous she looks—full of anger, but full of life.

I bring my face down so my eyes are level with hers. I know she's hurting too, but I'm fed up with what she's doing to us. "You _are_ hurting me. Every goddamn day you hurt me. Every time you run away when I touch you. Every time you say something bitchy when I'm trying to show you I love you, you hurt me. You're ruining me. You're pushing me away, Josie, and it's fucking working."

"What do you mean?" she asks, voice suddenly small.

"I mean that I left once because you hurt me. You blocked your feelings then too, and I left. I'll do it again. I can't go every fucking day watching the woman I love destroy herself and continue to run away from the one person who loves her."

"Are you threatening me?" she chokes out.

"Yes," I answer getting closer to her. "And I'm promising that if you let me in I'll change your world. I'll be everything you need. I'll make the pain go away, I promise."

"I can't believe you would threaten to leave me," she whimpers, turning her face away so I can see a single tear running down her face. My heart is breaking in my chest, but I need her to wake up. I need her to hurt so she can be vulnerable for one minute.

"What would I be walking away from right now, Josie?" I ask exasperated. "Because it feels like I'd only be walking away from a girl who has made it her mission to hurt me. Someone who has no feelings for me. What did you say? That I'm nothing to you. _It doesn't matter_ . . . What kind of fucking life is that for me?"

I won't leave. I love her too much to leave, but I need her to be honest with me, to show me she does care. It's not working, though. I see her jaw harden as she locks in her feelings.

"You're right. You should leave," she says, her voice and face devoid of any emotion.

I slam my fist next to her head. I don't care about the fucking pain. The fleshly pain in my hand is better than the pain she's making me feel in my soul.

" _Fuck_ , Josie! For one fucking minute can you be honest with me?!" I raise my voice, but she doesn't flinch. She turns her face to me, raises her chin, and exhibits her coldest and most unfeeling look.

"I am being honest, Seth," she says, shrugging her shoulder. "There's no reason for you to stay here anymore. At least with me." She tries to walk out of the barricade I made, but I'm not moving my arms.

"You would rather lie to me and let me walk away than tell me the truth and let me love you? Is it that scary and awful of a thought that I could love you?"

"It's not a lie. I don't want you," she says, turning her steely blue eyes on me.

Her words hit me so hard, I can't breathe. _I. Don't. Want. You._ My hand drops from the wall as a painful numbness washes over me. I don't even see her walk away, my vision too blurry.

I slide my back against the wall, and pull my knees into my chest. I keep my hands in my hair, fisting it until it hurts my scalp. I need the pain of something else to help placate the heart-wrenching agony of being stabbed by her words.

"That was rough to watch," Alayna says, sliding down next to me. She pats my back, unsure how to react to my shocked state. "Come on, let's go out. You look like you could use a drink."

I really could use a drink, but I don't think there's any amount of alcohol that can take away the agony I'm in.

"I should go check on her . . . "

"Yeah you should. After you have a drink."

What the hell. It's better than being rejected again by the girl I'm crazy about.

# Chapter 19

### Josie

I have no idea how I get home without getting into a wreck.

The anguish tormenting and picking at my heart is too much. My tears block my vision, making it unsafe to drive, but somehow I make it home. In a daze, I stumble up the stairs, needing the solace of my bathroom. As soon as I walk in the apartment, I run to the shower and turn it on as hot as it goes.

I don't even take off my clothes as I get in, sinking to the floor and letting the sobs overtake me. He's going to leave me. He _wants_ to leave me.

Because I'm hurting him. Hearing him tell me over and over again that I'm hurting him— it shattered everything in me. I want to explain it. I want to explain that I'm no good for him. That I'm not deserving of his love, but I can't even get those words out. Instead, I chose to hurt him _again_.

The devastated look in his eyes when I told him I didn't want him is an image I will _never_ get out of my head. I've never seen him look so broken. Even two years ago when I told him I was in love with Blake, I didn't see the hurt like today.

I rock back and forth, trying to seek comfort that will never come. One person offered me comfort. One person offered me the love I need, and I turned him away.

I lay on the bottom of my shower until my sobs fade and I'm left feeling numb and empty. This is what I deserve. I took away my unborn child's life. I deserve to be on the bottom of my shower.

Miserable and alone.

***

I wake up naked on my bed with a pounding headache.

The beating in my head is in rhythm with the banging that's happening at my front door. I groan and look at the clock on my side table. Judging from the darkness out my window, I can only assume it means that it's 7:45 at night and not in the morning.

I put on my black robe and look through the peep hole.

_Fuck!_

I slam my palm into my forehead, feeling stupid for forgetting about my plans with Brooke and Brandon. I open the door sheepishly and peek through the crack, giving her an apologetic smile as she takes in my appearance. She turns around and talks to someone behind her.

"We'll be down in a minute." She walks into my home without even asking and shoots me an annoyed look.

"Why aren't you dressed? I reminded you ten times this week!" I sigh in response, knowing she won't like my explanation.

"Something happened," I groan, following her into my bedroom. Brooke immediately goes to my closet and starts picking things out.

She's six months pregnant now and looks incredible. She's the exact picture of how we all want to look when we're expecting—all belly and boobs. Her blond hair is pulled into a high ponytail and she's wearing cute blue jeans with a tight, pink long-sleeved shirt. Her boobs are peeking through the top, and her growing stomach reaches out farther than her boobs now. Cute and perfect, which is the only thing my best friend could possibly be.

"What happened?" she calls from the closet. I hear her murmuring to herself as she slides hangers across the bar.

"I hurt him again." She knows exactly what I'm talking about, and her groan affirms her dismay.

After the engagement party it took Brooke a while to talk to me again. She was upset that her party was ruined, but most of all she was mad at me. After numerous calls and texts of pleading, I finally convinced her to meet me for coffee so we could talk. Seth would never admit it, but I _know_ he had something to do with her changing her mind.

I was hopeful. Brooke is loyal and forgiving, so I assumed she would understand. But the look of disdain on her face had told me her loyalty and forgiveness lay with Blake and not with me.

_"I can't believe you," she whispered, looking away from me. She held her stomach as if to protect her baby from me._

_She might as well have punched me in the gut. And even though I was punishing myself for what I had done, I wanted more than anything to explain it to her. To have her understand. Because while I was denying my feelings for Seth, she became the only person I had left that I could be honest with._

_When we first became roommates in college, we started out as friends who liked to drink and dance together, and I never allowed myself to get close to her in the same way I was close to Seth. She became someone I could go to for a good laugh and even though I was nothing like her other friends, she took me under her wing and made me feel welcome. But there was a night when she admitted how lonely and unwanted she felt because of her family, and I realized that I had judged her too soon. Brooke understands me and what it means to feel discarded. Her struggles in life have been different, but that doesn't make them any less significant._

_So from that moment on, I opened up to her. I was honest, and I grew as close to her as I was to Seth._

_"Please, Brooke. I know it's hard to understand, especially since you're pregnant, but I felt like it was my only option."_

_I already knew it was strike one before her baby blue eyes pierced me with her look._

_"It wasn't. I'm not saying that the way Blake has handled it is right, but he's right to be hurt." Her loyalty definitely seemed to be with Blake on this one. "We've known him for years and we all know how badly he wanted kids. He's always talked about having a ton of kids with you."_

_"I know." That wasn't really true. He used to talk about wanting kids and a family, but he never, not once, said he wanted it to be with me. He hinted, but he never said the words to me._

_But Brooke knew what she'd heard, and I was sure Blake had talked about it with Brandon and Brooke. My heart squeezed painfully at the thought. It wasn't that I didn't know I was a terrible person, but I had hoped for a way to redeem myself._

_"And_ you _. Of all people. He could have probably handled it better if it had been someone else, but it's_ you _. He's only ever wanted you." Again, questionable. We loved each other, but we never made any promises about eternal love or being together forever._

_But again, I knew in my heart, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, that Blake and I would've made those vows. Maybe not in marriage, but when I was with him, I knew I wanted to be with him for a long time._

_"Even now, Josie. He still goes on and on about how much he loves you. How hurt he is. That you've ripped him apart by making that choice without him. But then he'll start blaming himself like it's his fault you decided to abort your baby."_

_Brooke's eyes shine with tears as she thinks about Blake, who is more than a friend to her—a brother, really. He's hurting and she feels his pain right in her heart. Because that's Brooke. Brooke feels so deeply. Puts herself in someone else's shoes so fully that she understands people's pain more than anyone._

_"I know, Brooke," I said, getting frustrated. "Trust me, I know. I don't want to talk about him. He hurt me, too."_

_"But he made up for it! I saw him three weeks ago. I saw you two together. I know I saw that same love you two used to have."_

_"He walked out on me!" I tensed, irritation getting the best of me. "I loved him. I was ready to drop all of the past and start over with him. And when I told him about the baby, he walked away. He didn't even try to understand. And if you don't think I carry enough grief and guilt on my shoulders for what I've done, then you're mistaken. I know Blake would've loved having a baby with me—or would have raised it himself. I_ know _how awful I am that I didn't give him that chance. I_ know _I deserve pain. But from you, Brooke? I just need my best friend."_

_Her eyes softened, and she reached across the table to touch my hand._

_"Okay. Just . . . I'm madder that you never told me." She started crying, tears spilling over her flawless white skin, and I was shocked. Her emotions were all over the place. "I thought I was your best friend, and you never told me! I'm always the last to know what's going on with you."_

_That's where the problem was. Yes, she still took Blake's side on this issue, but it was more that I didn't confide in her about my struggles._

_"I'm so sorry, Brooke. I just felt like it was my own burden to carry. I didn't want anyone to know. I picked up my phone so many times to call you, but I couldn't. Sometimes I was embarrassed. Sometimes it was my pride. And a part of me was terrified you'd look at me differently."_

_I didn't add that she was looking at me differently now that she knows. She nodded her head and wiped away her tears. I hoped she could understand that I had wanted discretion. Seth was gone, Blake hurt me, and I was depressed. Talking about it would only hurt more._

_"Sorry . . . Pregnancy hormones have me crying every twenty minutes. Yesterday I cried watching a coffee commercial."_

_I laughed lightly and scooted my chair next to her, pulling her into a hug. "I won't do it again. I'll tell you everything. I'm so sorry."_

_"Good," she said sniffling. "We're like peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, you know?"_

_"Um . . . Peanut butter and jelly?"_

_"No, I mean peanut butter and pickle sandwiches . . . I didn't say it wrong. I had one before I came over here."_

And just like that, things were back to normal between us. I told her everything about Seth. How I feel about him, and how I feel like I deserve to be alone because of the abortion. She doesn't agree with my choice to get one, but she doesn't think I should keep myself from happiness because of it. And as soon as she found out I was still madly in love with Seth, she gladly supported that relationship. She's the one I run to when my feelings for Seth become too much. I can't tell him how I feel, so I tell her.

"When are you going to stop? You're destroying yourself, Josie!" Brooke chastises, bringing me back to the present and throwing a short, long-sleeved dress and a jean jacket on the bed. The dress is blue and it's off the shoulder so it's super sexy.

"He told me he was going to leave me if I kept pushing him away," I say, getting choked up again. I put my hand on my mouth, feeling like I might vomit. I close my eyes and try to calm my anxiety.

"He won't leave you, dummy. He was just trying to hurt you back."

"It doesn't matter. The fact that he said that . . . I don't know if I can handle that, Brooke."

"So what did you tell him, then? Did you tell him that you don't want a life without him?"

 I look away and pull one of my pillows to cover my face.

She sighs and rebukes me again, "Well then, that's your own damn fault."

"I told him that he should leave. That I didn't want him," I mumble from behind my pillow. I feel the bed sag when she sits next to me.

"Ugh, Josie . . . You never learn, do you? You push everyone away, and Seth loves you more than anyone."

"That's the problem! I can't let myself love him, because if I do, I'll just hurt him."

"You're clueless, Josie . . . Put those clothes on. We're still going out. And please for the love of baby Santa, fix your damn hair and makeup. You look like you've been attacked by bears all night."

I comply even though I feel like shit. Brooke's pregnant, which means she's extra bossy and _always_ gets her way. I could use a drink, anyway. I get into Brooke's SUV and see Brandon and Brody in the backseat. Brody winks at me, and I roll my eyes. His shoulder-length black hair is loose and so very sexy when he weaves his fingers through it to get it out of his face. He's wearing dress slacks and a dress shirt, looking every bit the CEO and business owner he is, but his laid-back demeanor negates the stuffy attire.

The guy is weird. But definitely hot. And sweet, actually. I think I might like him.

We go to Thumper's even though I tell Brooke we shouldn't. She may not be able to drink, but even without alcohol she enjoys the bar atmosphere. The crowd isn't overbearing since our town isn't very large, but the place is almost at max capacity since it's the weekend. A crappy DJ uses his iPod at the front of the room, and an eclectic mix of individuals dance in the middle. While Brooke and I find ourselves a booth by the pool table, Brandon and Brody get us all drinks. Soda and cheese fries for Brooke, of course. She talked about cheese fries the whole way here.

I welcome the burn of the Southern Comfort shot and then sip on my cranberry vodka. I can already feel it numbing some of the hurt in my heart. We sit and catch up while I drink away the pain. Brody is back in town for the week. He doesn't explain why he's back, but he and Brandon share a knowing glance that makes me think they have something going on.

Brody asks if I want to play pool since Brandon and Brooke are making out like teenagers across the booth, and I agree. They're not gross about it, it's just that I want to be making out with a certain person, and I can't have him.

I freeze in my tracks while walking to the pool table when I spot a familiar sandy blond head leaning against the wall, talking to someone. He's got a beer in one hand, and his other hand is resting on the hip of the smaller figure. He leans into her ear and says something. I can't tell from this distance if he's getting that close and personal to be intimate with her or because it's too loud in here, but my mind is screaming that he's about to fuck this bitch.

And jealousy comes alive in my veins, licking at my skin, tempting and coaxing me to react.

I watch as Seth kisses Alayna on her cheek before she walks away with a big smile and buoyant bounce to her step, clutching her phone to her ear. It's a little warm and familiar—they definitely have some kind of history. Fury burns its way through my blood as I pin them both with glares that reflect how badly I want to harm them. Seth starts to turn his head in my direction, but I turn away before he can see me.

The pain. Oh my _god_ , the pain. It's too much. I don't want him with anyone else. I don't want him to leave me. I don't want to lose him. I want to love him. I want him to love _me_.

It's a dangerous game, but any maturity that I've tried to learn in the last couple of years flies out the window. I march up to Brody who is watching my reaction with a shrewd smirk on his face, and I grab his shirt, pulling him down to my mouth and kissing him. He gets what I'm trying to do because he smiles against my lips and wraps his arm around my waist.

"You're going to get me punched for this," he murmurs before I slip my tongue into his mouth. I put my hands in his hair and kiss him the way I want to kiss Seth. It's nice. No fireworks, obviously, but he's definitely a good kisser. I push my body harder against his and enjoy the contact.

I kind of get lost in the kiss, liking the heated contact with someone. My deprivation of any intimacy with Seth or any other man makes me eager to keep enjoying the kiss. I don't get to delight in it for too much longer because I'm being ripped away by a familiar, rough, strong hand. I see an arm covered in tattoos wrap around the front of my body, and I'm torn away from Brody's hold. I smirk and look up into Brody's honey brown eyes.

"You're a good kisser," I tell him haughtily while being tugged away. The alcohol must be changing my once thought-out behavior into something reckless and stupid. I kinda love it.

"Shut the fuck up, Josie," Seth growls against my ear. He turns me around to push me toward the exit, and then turns back to Brody. "I'll come back for you," Seth promises dangerously.

I turn around and mouth "Sorry" to Brody to which he shrugs with a grin and stuffs his hands in his front pockets, and then I'm being pushed again out the door. Seth pulls my arm until we're behind the building, covered by a tree so we're concealed from any nosy drunk assholes.

"What the fuck do I have to do, Josie?" he yells, running his hand through his hair. There's so much grievance, hurt, and outrage emanating in the few feet between us, a vibe coming from both of our bodies. "I've given you the space you asked for! I've been your friend. I've shown you repeatedly that I'm crazy about you . . . So what else? What am I missing?"

"How about not fuck some other girl when you just were promising me that you loved me!"

"She's gay! She has no interest in me!"

"But do you have interest in her?" I ask arrogantly, putting my hand on my hip.

"No! I've had my eyes on this one girl who doesn't give me the time of fucking day!"

"Then why'd you kiss her?"

"Why did you kiss _him_!?" he thunders. I shrug and turn my face away.

Inside, I feel the power of his voice tremble through my blood, begging entrance into my soul, but I have to keep a strong front even if I can feel it crumbling right before my eyes.

"I felt like it." I feel him walk up to me angrily, but refuse to shy away.

"Stop being a bitch, Josie!" I turn my head and gawk at him, shocked. It was like a slap in the face. A slap into reality. "Don't look so fucking surprised. You're being a bitch on purpose. Stop it. Stop fucking hiding. Be fucking real with me for one goddamn minute. Stop pretending like nothing affects you!"

"I was jealous . . . Okay? Happy?" I scream, letting go of my inhibitions. I'm so worn out. So tired of pretending. So weary from the pain that I go through every day I keep myself from being happy. I'm done. He starts toward me, and there's a look of accomplishment sparkling in his eyes. My stubbornness wanes a fraction and I admit something I know I have no right to say. "I didn't want you touching her."

He saunters up to me until his chest is pressing against mine, the contact making breathing impossible. He keeps walking, backing me up against the tree with the force of his body, but also with the intensity in his gaze. Once he has me pinned with nowhere to escape, he grabs my hand and raises it above my head. The feel of his hands, rough and forceful on my wrist, makes me dizzy with an invigorating need that shoots a severe shock to the tender spot between my legs.

He pushes my wrist against the bark, and then slides the underside of his hand down the length of my arm and down my side. His fingertips leave a trail of electricity that energizes my body, making me hum with pleasure.

"Who should I be touching then, Jos?" Seth asks sharply, eyes trained on mine so he doesn't miss a single reaction. I can still see his anger in how he holds himself, but I also see an arcane and virile lust raging combat in his eyes. With one hand still pinning my wrist to the tree, he brings his other back up and repeats the same slow torture down my side.

"No answer? What's wrong? You almost look like you're feeling something . . . " Dark sarcasm drips in every word he speaks. It's a fucking turn-on. My panties are already wet. From his touch. From his eyes. From the way he speaks to me.

"But that can't be right," he continues, tone deep and intimidating. "Because you don't feel anything for me . . . You push me away and tell me that you don't want me. That I'm fucking _nothing_ to you."

This time when he reaches my hip, he grips it roughly. My legs shake from being so turned on, and my knees buckle slightly, making me unstable on my feet. His breath brushes against my face, smelling like beer and Winterfresh, scents that spike my cravings even higher. He pushes his knee between my legs, so I have more support and don't fall to the ground. The movement brings him even closer to me, and brings me closer to relieving some of the pressure I'm feeling.

A whimper leaves my mouth and I roll my eyes to the back of my head as I move my hips forward so I can get some friction against my mound. The second I feel a microscopic sense of respite, it's taken away when Seth moves his knee so I can't reach.

"So who should I be touching, Pussycat?" he asks again, bringing his knee back in for me to lean on. And again, he moves it away once I push my hips out to rub against him.

The tiniest and darkest smirk plays on the corner of his mouth, as he watches my suffering. I've never seen anything so sexy in my life. Bringing his head down to my cheek, he leaves a breath's distance between his lips and my skin, making me pant as his lips flutter across my cheek until he reaches my ear.

"Since you don't want me, I could go through a whole list of other girls I can touch. I'm sure since you feel nothing for me that you won't mind . . . ," he says, the implication clear. I don't want that, but I can't speak. My mouth is dry and pain clogs my chest from the horror of what he just suggested.

I bring my free arm up to touch his chest, but the hand he had gripping my waist darts out and grabs it. He pins it above my head, overlapping my other hand. Holding both my hands in one grip, be brings his other hand back down to grab my chin forcefully.

"You don't get to touch me. Not until you're honest with me." His voice is gruff with indignation and desire. My eyes widen and a small gasp of surprise escapes my lips. I never expected this from Seth, but his determination and rage escalate my yearning and heat up my icy heart.

He lets go of my chin but keeps his eyes locked on mine. His finger runs across my collarbone, a movement that always makes me break out in goose bumps. I shudder under him and am graced once again with another taunting smirk. "I can start with Becca, she would probably like it when I touch her here." His hand runs down my cleavage, brushing his thumb against the side of one of my breasts.

"No," I plead softly. He had been looking at my cleavage, but as soon as I speak, his head shoots up and he pierces me with a powerful look.

"Then who? Let's start talking . . . You talk and I'll show you how to feel." 

# Chapter 20

### Seth

Who knew that a game of jealousy could spark the change I needed to get Josie to start opening up?

With my knee between her legs, I lean in and push my rock-hard erection against her thigh. A rush of air leaves her mouth and she moans. She's sexy as fucking hell, especially when she's not trying as hard to hide the way I make her feel. I'm determined to make her open up, and I let the ire that's been building up these last three months and the fury of seeing her make out with another man influence my actions.

"Those aren't words," I tell her pointedly, and pull away again. "Julia would like that for sure, I could hit her up."

She narrows her eyes, and I watch her frustration fester in those gorgeous dark blue irises.

"No," she says again, but with more force. I push my chest harder and bring my face back down to hers.

"Then who the fuck do you want me to touch, Josie? Tell me!"

She breaks eye contact and looks over my shoulder.

"Me . . . ," she admits in the softest voice. I push my hips into her, grabbing her chin again so she looks at me.

"Louder." I'm not going to give her any opportunity to go back on her word. I won't let her shy her way out of what she's telling me. She _will_ beg me. She _will_ tell me how she feels and what she wants loudly and clearly, so she can't ever hide from it ever again.

"I want you to touch me . . . only me," she says, eyes focused on mine. There we go. I press my knee up to put pressure on her hot pussy to reward her for opening up.

"Why did you kiss him?" I ask through gritted teeth. I couldn't believe she would stoop so fucking low to hurt me. I'm not just pissed at the prick who kissed her back; I'm fucking pissed at Josie.

She looks away when I ask, so I take my knee away. I press her wrists harder against the bark of the tree, but I make sure to soothe them by rubbing my thumb across her skin. "That's not how this fucking works, Josie. No more of your fucking mind games. I'm done. I ask you a question, and I give you what you want when you answer . . . So, why the _fuck_ did you kiss him?"

I've never been this forceful with Josie before. I've always given her exactly what she wanted. Whatever that girl wished for, I did it. Every time she and I had sex, I never took it too far. I was gentle and careful.

But now I'm fucking enraged. I plan on fucking every ounce of vindictiveness out of her, until she has no more walls blocking us from being together. It's not out of desire to control her; it's me resorting to any extreme necessary to get her to open up to me. To stop _lying_ to herself.

There it is. I see regret flash in her eyes. That's a start.

"I saw you kiss Alayna, and I was jealous. I wanted to get you back, and that's the first thing I thought of."

I believe her, so I bring my face to her neck and kiss her while I bring my knee back up for her to rub against. I groan as I feel the heat of her cover my knee. She grinds against me and she opens her neck more. I place my tongue on her collarbone and graze my teeth along the bone. She shivers under me, and I feel a surge of pleasure when I taste the chills splayed on her smooth skin.

I move my hand to the hem of her dress and grab her thigh.

"Why were you jealous?" I ask, pulling my lips away from her skin. She moans, still trying to find her release against my knee.

"Because . . . I don't want you with anyone else."

Her answer is too vague. I pull my hand and knee away from her. I take a step back and give her a look that expresses my lack of patience. I let go of her hands and grab her waist, turning her around so she's facing the tree. I glance around and make sure that we are alone, and then I push my body against hers. Her hands reach out to brace herself against the tree while I lean into her.

"That's not good enough, Josie." Her hair is loose and long down her back, and my hand is burning to touch it. I wrap some of it around my wrist, and pull it to the side so she opens up her neck to me. I unwrap my hand and grip her hair closer to her scalp.

She purrs in satisfaction as I rub my nose against her neck. She smells so fucking good with my body wash on her. I'm going to devour this girl. I place my lips on her nape, but I don't move them. I feel her tense up in anticipation, but I need an answer before I continue.

"Tell me exactly why you were jealous." I remain still until she speaks.

"Because _I_ want to be the one you touch," she whispers. I moan as I flick my tongue against her skin, tasting vanilla and sex.

"We've established that you want me to touch you. I need more." I wrap one arm around her stomach and trail my other hand up her thigh. I reach the bottom of her dress, and still my hand from going any further. "Stop hiding, Josie. Tell me what you feel. Why were you jealous? Why do you want me to touch you?"

"Because I _want_ you. I want to be with you," she says looking back at me. Her eyes are needy and genuine, and her breath is ragged. I push my hips against her ass, showing her just how much I want to be with her, too. Grabbing the hem of her dress, I pull it up so her perfectly round ass is right in front of me, only a tiny blue thong in the way.

"Mmmm . . . So sexy," I whisper hoarsely. I run my hand over her backside, palming and kneading it. Pushing the arm on her stomach, I force her hips to come out more to me so I can see that ass in its full glory. Josie shakes against me, unsteady on her feet. I lean down and kiss her butt before biting it, comforting it with my tongue after. The red mark against her flawless skin turns me on even more. She gasps and releases a loud moan.

Bringing my head back up to hers, I look into her eyes, laden with lust and complete trust. I watch her as I slip my finger under the string of her thong and follow it until it reaches her wet slit. I feel her excitement instantly, and I haven't even put my fingers in her. My cock throbs from needing her so badly, needing to be inside of her and making her mine. My breath is as uneven as hers, and I feel like I won't ever be able to breathe right again after this. I've never been so turned on.

"Why do you want me, Josie?" I ask softly. I keep my eyes on hers and watch as I break away the final wall surrounding her heart.

"Because I'm in love with you," she whispers, tears in her eyes.

It doesn't solve all our problems. It doesn't mean that things will be easy from now on. But it's the single best sentence I have ever heard in my life, and I will make sure to cherish those words for the rest of my existence. I'll make sure to work harder than any other person has ever had to work in order to keep her from regretting saying that to me. I'll do everything I can to hear that sentence every day for the rest of my life.

I feel like my chest is about to explode, but so is my dick, especially when she backs her ass up so my fingers rub against her clit. Moving them inside her, I stroke her softly while I watch her squirm.

"Say it again," I say unevenly, bringing my lips close to hers.

"I love you, Seth."

I crush her lips with mine and slide my tongue into her mouth, hard. I kiss her until we both forget to breathe, and at that point we know that breathing is no longer as important as continuing this kiss. My fingers inside of her follow the same frantic and needy cadence of my tongue. Every emotion she's been keeping from me, not just in the past three months but for four years, is reflected in the desperate way she kisses me back. With every moan she lets into my mouth, I kiss her harder.

I need to make her mine.

I take my finger out and grab the string of her thong and yank it until it rips off of her hips, shredding the pretty but unnecessary fabric. She yelps and jumps, but sighs as soon as I grab her hips and stand behind her ass. Putting the useless thong in my pocket, I check one more time to make sure no one is around, and then I pull down my jeans and boxers.

I'm not fucking waiting, and I sure as hell am not going to miss this opportunity to claim her. I want her to stop hiding from me, so it's only right I make the same vow. To show her exactly how I want to fuck her when I look at her.

Hard. Rough. And with more love than she has ever felt.

I rub my dick along the crease in her ass and then down between her thighs. She grinds against me, ready for me to take her. I grip one hand on her hip and grab some of her hair in the other. Still bracing herself against the tree, Josie pants and moans when I bend my head down to kiss her neck. I suck on it hard and give her one last look.

I see her trust, lust, and love reflected in her gaze, and I smile.

"No more hiding, Pussycat. I've got you . . . ," I promise, voice hoarse. She returns my smile and inhales sharply when I move my hips up so I'm inside of her.

I thrust into her, my patience depleted. I use both of my hands to grip her waist and move her ass so it bounces perfectly on my cock. I slide her out to the tip of my dick and then shove back inside of her, filling up her tight pussy. She's so tight. Better than I remembered or dreamed. Each time I pull out, her insides try to grip me back inside. It's the most incredible thing I've ever felt.

 Her screams and moans make me roar with need. I brace one of my arms on the tree for some leverage while I grind my hips into her at a much faster pace. I grab one of her tits, squeezing it roughly then rubbing it softly, so she feels the mind-blowing mixture of rough and sweet.

"Oh god, Seth!" she screams, throwing her head back and closing her eyes. Her toes barely touch the ground as I fuck her against the tree, and I moan into her neck, sucking and biting it as I move inside her. She starts shaking, and I know she's close to coming.

"Josie," I say softly, making sure she looks at me. I slow down my pace, and wait for her to open her eyes. I have never seen anything as beautiful as this look from Josie. Her mouth opens, moans still escaping it as she pants. Her eyes are wide with unadulterated fervor and devotion. Her cheeks have a rosy tint from the passion she's letting herself succumb to. Her hair is a wild mess, strands blowing in the breeze. She is perfection—the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

"Tell me you're mine," I urge, enraptured by her beauty and unable to let her go until it's official.

Her smirk is so sexy. "I've been yours since I was six years old . . . I've just been too scared to admit it."

"Say it," I plead, biting her shoulder bone and still grinding my hips into her slowly.

"I'm yours, Seth."

"No more hiding from me."

"Never again." I see her sincerity in her eyes and know she's telling me the truth. She's giving me the chance to love her, something I've wanted for so long; it almost doesn't feel real.

What _is_ real is her pussy clenching around my cock.

I rock in and out of her, reaching in front to rub her clit so she experiences every sensation possible. I'm relentless, never getting enough of the screams and my name spilling out of her in pure ecstasy. Her moans get louder and I have to hold her up against me, since she's no longer standing.

"I'm gonna come," she cries out, turning her head to look back at me. That look. _Fuck_. I shove into her hard and deep, watching her as she convulses in my arms with her orgasm. My hips grind into her jerkily until I bust.

"I love you so fucking much, Josie," I moan against her ear after my cock finishes twitching from the best orgasm I've ever had. She sags against me, and I chuckle because she looks thoroughly worn out. She stays there, both of us unable to break up the moment yet.

"I love you too, Seth. I'm sorry it took me so long to accept that. I'm sorry about everything."

"We'll talk about it later, pretty girl," I reassure her, pushing her hair back. "We'll work through it all. Can't fix it all in one night."

She smiles languidly and relaxes. I kiss her bruised and lush lips, and slide out of her. I pull down her dress and grab her hand to pull her up to my side, wrapping my arm around her. I've never felt so content in my life.

"Let's go to my place," I suggest as we start walking to my truck. Her eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Why not mine?"

"I've been telling you since I came back that you need to move out of there, Pussycat."

"That makes no sense, Seth. Why?"

"You get a new mattress after you were with Blake?" I ask, clenching my jaw. I didn't want to bring up her relationship with him. She purses her lips to the side and it's so cute that I can't help but lean down and kiss them. Then I kiss her nose as she smiles. "See . . . I was okay sleeping with you there because of your nightmares, but I'm not going to make my girl come hundreds of times in a bed she used with her dick ex-boyfriend."

She lets out a tiny giggle and shoves my shoulder.  "You're so dumb. Fine, we'll go to your _parents'_ place."

"Been holding off on moving out until you agree to move in with me, you know." She grins and looks up at me, unsure if I'm kidding or not. I'm not.

"Really?" she asks, incredulous. I chuckle and open up the passenger door when we get to my truck.

"Yeah." I grab her waist and smile at her. I lift her up and buckle her into her seat, sliding my hand up her thigh. "So . . . You gonna move in with me or what, Pussycat?"

Her mouth hangs open, and her eyes widen. I lean down and suck her bottom lip into my mouth. "I'll convince you eventually." With one last kiss on her nose, I close the door and get in the driver's seat.

Noticing Josie fidgeting and pushing her dress in the space between her legs, I grab her hand to stop her and give her a questioning look. "What are you doing?"

She blushes, the prettiest pink creeping into her cheeks, another image that is too gorgeous for words. "Your come is running down my legs," she says, trying to hide a smile and looking away timidly. My heart pounds hard and my dick twitches in my jeans.

I lean over the console and pull her dress up so I get a perfect view of her mound, and sure enough I see my come sleek against her thighs. I groan as I run my finger up her leg. The photographer and artist in me wants to get a picture of her gorgeous cunt dripping with a mixture of our come, but I refrain from asking. I'll keep the image in my head.

I sit back in my seat, closing my eyes and banging my head against the head rest.

"Fuck," I whisper, roughly.

"What?" she asks warily. I open my eyes and turn toward her, a wry grin tugging on my lips.

"Come here. I need to have you again." I'm hard again. The sight of my come marking her body is driving me back into a state of lust.

"What?!" Her voice is high pitched, shock unmistakable in her tone. I raise my eyebrows and grab her hand to move it to my crotch.

"Oh my god," she breathes, feeling my hard cock in her hand. "I can't have sex with you in your truck in the middle of a parking lot, Seth!"

I throw my head back and laugh sarcastically at her modesty. "Awww, Pussycat. I just fucked you outside, behind a building, against a motherfucking tree. You really think I give a fuck if we have sex in my car?"

"I give a fuck!" she says, smacking my chest. I grab her hand and pull her toward me, as much as her seatbelt gives me room for.

"Come on . . . It'll look like we're making out. Just straddle me and ride me.

"Yeah until they see the car shaking and the windows fogging up. Then you'll be giving everyone a show of me . . . ," she says, raising her eyebrows, challenging me. Hard decision.

My phone blares Of Mice and Men, making my decision for me. She laughs and leans back in her seat. I smile at her satisfied expression as I answer my phone.

"What's up?"

"Dude, you guys okay?" Brandon asks. "Is she okay?"

"What the fuck do you think I did to her? Of course she's okay," I answer, turning the key in my truck.

"You looked pissed as hell, I don't fucking know. Brooke was worried."

"We're fine. I'm taking her back to my house now." Josie turns to me and gapes. I crease my eyebrows in confusion as I look at her.

"Ohhhhhh, I see how it is," Brandon says, a note of humor in his voice. I pull out onto the street and head home.

"Whatever. I'll talk to you later, man."

"Wait! You're just now leaving? Did you already have sex with her?"

"Bye, Brandon." I push end on my phone and throw it in the cup holder, rolling my eyes. I loved Brandon but he was the nosiest person I've ever met.

"Why're you looking at me like that, pretty girl?" I ask, seeing Josie's expression in my peripheral vision.

"You told him we were going to your house. He's gonna know what we're doing." I glance over at her and give her a disbelieving look.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Who cares? And Brandon's a dumbass anyway. He has no clue what's going on."

This isn't happening, she's not pulling this shit already. I don't plan on pretending with her and she needs to understand that now. I pull into an abandoned parking lot and face her, irritation motivating my words.

"Let's get this straight, now. This is not something I'm going to hide from everyone again. You saw what that did last time." She cringes as she remembers what happened—me getting head from another girl, ending what we had together. She jerks and turns to face the window. I grab her hand, and rub my thumb over her knuckles. "I didn't mean I would cheat on you, Jos. I just mean that things went to shit because we weren't honest and weren't open about what was going on between us. If we hadn't kept it a secret, then maybe I wouldn't have wasted so long being afraid to tell you I was in love with you."

She turns and faces me, listening to what I have to say. "I'm not trying to hide it; I just don't want them to think I'm a whore." Then it clicks. For one negative thing that someone said to her months ago, she needs fifty more positive ones to reassure her that she's not a bad person.

"Fuck that. You know they wouldn't think that." I bring my hand up to cup her cheek, loving the way she leans into it without any more hesitation. "You're not a whore. Trust me I know a few . . . Hell, I used to be one," I tease.

She rolls her eyes. I lean in and kiss her pretty mouth, kissing her over and over again until she's grinning widely and laughing. When she tries to pull away from my assault, I grip the back of her neck and keep her face planted in front of mine so I can keep kissing her. I leave quick, wet smooches over her laughing mouth, and then spread them to the rest of her face.

Her laughter increases, and it gives me a warm feeling inside just to feel like I'm somehow the reason she's smiling and laughing again. Not just a breathing shell of who she used to be, but _alive._ I lean my cheek against hers and say quietly, "I love you, Josie . . . And feel free to bring your inner whore to my bed _any_ day."

She barks out a laugh and shoves me away from her.

"Drive!" she says, pointing to the steering wheel, incapable of hiding her smile.

I put my hands up in surrender, and then put the truck back in drive, keeping my foot on the brake.

"Damn, Pussycat. If you're that eager to get back into my pants, we can have a little quickie right here," I say suggestively, looking over at her with a small seductive smile.

"I guess . . . ," she says alluringly, gliding her hand across my thigh. I look over at her and she's biting her bottom lip, staring at my growing erection. I groan and debate putting the truck back into park. She grabs my crotch and rubs it in her hand, making me harder. Then her hand moves to her mouth as she stifles a fake exaggerated yawn. "Ahh, but I'm so tired, I don't really feel like it."

I put the car in fucking park.

I fling my seatbelt off and reach over to undo hers. Before she knows what's happening, I grip her waist and pull her into my lap. Once she's straddling my hips, I push her hair out of her face so I can see her eyes, their dark blue hue changing from shock into smoldering interest as I grind my hips up against her.

"Don't tease, Pussycat." I grab the back of her head and bring her mouth down to mine. I play with her lips, biting them and sucking them into my mouth. I love the way she reacts when I kiss her. I want to make it so she can't kiss anyone ever again without thinking about me.

"Never," she whispers, smiling against my lips. I reach my hand out and slide it up her leg and under her dress. I glide it to her still-wet pussy and groan. I pull away and lean my seat back so she has more room, and she falls adorably against my chest.

"You're so beautiful," I whisper, admiring her as she lies against me—eyes ravishing, hair a gorgeous mess, and body molded into mine perfectly.

"I have a secret to tell you," she whispers back. I raise my eyebrows and smirk. She bites her bottom lip, hiding her grin. "I've kinda had a crush on you since sixth grade."

"Really?" She nods her head, and my chest swells with adoration.

 "I have a secret to tell you, too." She raises her eyebrows in return. "I've been getting a hard dick around you since sixth grade."

She giggles and tosses her hair to the side. Her hand slides down my chest and reaches the zipper on my jeans. She drags it down painstakingly slowly, a sexy-ass smile on her lips, and reaches in to pull out my hard cock, stroking it while looking at me. I grab her hand and put it on my shoulder before grabbing her waist and picking her up to position her so I can get inside of her.

I slide her onto me, getting even more turned on as I watch her mouth part and feel her hands claw the front of my shirt. Her head tilts back when I'm all the way inside, and seeing her neck open to me is too good of an offer to refuse. I love her ass, but I'm more of a neck guy, and I want to fucking ruin her throat with my teeth, leaving marks all over so no one else ever touches her.

I lean up and suck on her skin, still moving her hips up and down on my cock. I suck her skin into my mouth every time I hit the back of her pussy, bite her when I lift her up all the way to the tip of my dick, and kiss her as I shove myself back into her. The truck fogs up quickly with our hot breath, and it rocks as we get a good movement going.

There's something different this time with Josie. I don't know if the fact that I was always so careful with her blocked some of the passion that we could have had, but it's fucking incredible with her now. I'm not worried about hurting her, because she knows I love her. I'm only concerned about making it impossible for her to ever move on from this. I'll never let her go again.

She fists my shirt in her hands and looks at me with the most sexual look in her eyes. I shudder from the power she has over me.

"Play with your clit," I growl, knowing I'm close and needing her to come with me. She follows my instruction quickly and starts rubbing herself in front of me. "So sexy," I rasp, tightening my grip on her waist. She owns me.

She leans into me and starts shivering, unable to control the spasms while she rubs herself. Her arm that's been clutching me breaks out into goose bumps, and I smile at the obvious and repetitive sign that she's having an orgasm. Good fucking thing-- there's no way I'm going to last any longer. As she screams her release next to my ear, I shove myself into her two more times and come with her.

"Why the fuck did I wait so long?" she wonders a minute later, lethargic and worn out against me. Perfection.

"Told you we're good together."

"Not just good . . . That was . . . " She looks up at me, a small smile on her face, shaking her head slightly. "You've ruined me for anyone else."

_That's the point, Pussycat._

# Chapter 21

### Josie

I feel like I can breathe again.

I've been suffocating since Seth left two years ago, and I haven't been able to breathe right since. I've gone every day living in an abyss of darkness that only got worse as time went on. I latched on to the love I thought I had with Blake, but even that couldn't bring me the euphoria I'm feeling with Seth right now.

I see the difference now that I'm letting myself be free with him. He makes me feel alive, liberated, and blithe, something I haven't felt in so long. Something I thought I lost the night I was raped.

I didn't realize how much I needed Seth, how much I _love_ him, until he got me to admit it aloud.

While it may not have been hearts and flowers, the way Seth made love to me tonight against the tree will forever be scorched into my memory as the best I'll-make-you-admit-that-you-love-me-and-fuck-you-so-hard-when-you-finally-open-up sex of my life. I want to cling to him and never let him go.

"When did you get this one?" I ask, tracing the tattoo on Seth's bicep. He's delicious naked, so I haven't let him dress since we ripped each other's clothes off when we got to his room. I've been lying in the crook of his arm, tracing all his tattoos and asking what they all mean and when he got them. He came home with a lot more tattoos than he had when he left.

His whole right side is covered in art. From his shoulder down to his wrist, there's no blank skin. His ribs are covered in a dark zombie pirate theme, his leg has a sexy pin-up girl with a professional camera, and his other leg has an underwater theme. His left arm, back, and chest are the only places that haven't been touched by ink, but I'm positive he'll have them covered eventually.

He looks down at the rhino and smirks.

"I was drunk―," he starts.

"How come you're drunk in most of these stories?"

He laughs deeply, shaking me as his chest rumbles under me. A warmth of pleasure from hearing his laugh flutters in my stomach―he's so perfect for me. His fingers trail down my back, making me shiver, and he rests his hand above my butt.

"Because that's when I get my best ideas," he answers, smiling and tapping the tip of my nose. "Anyway, I was drunk and I was watching National Geographic or some shit like that, and they said that rhinos have super thick skin. Like up to five centimeters. Well . . . It made me think of you and how tough you are so I went and got the tattoo."

I pull back a little and look at him dubiously. "Really?"

"No, not really. I was fucking drunk and I saw it on a beer bottle and went to the tattoo shop to get it."

I start cracking up, pulling away from him and holding my belly. His story is so ridiculous that it's funny. Seth's sense of humor, the way he makes me laugh, is something I haven't found in anyone else. It's what makes us work so well together. Mind-blowing sex and laughter? Who could ask for more? His hand moves my hand away from my mouth and he smiles down at me, running his thumb over the curve of my lips.

"Is that funny?" he asks, grinning.

"Yes," I respond, breathless and breaking out into another fit of laughter. "What about this one?" I point to the doughnut on his forearm.

"I was drunk . . . ," he says, smirking at me when I start giggling again. "And was really craving a motherfucking doughnut."

When I calm down, I point to the guitar pick that he has on his bicep and ask him about that. Inside the pick are the words _She Want the D-isco_.

"Man, I was fucking wasted when I got that," he starts, smiling sweetly when I'm overcome in another fit of laughter. "Okay, so I was in London when I got it. There was this band visiting there called She Want the D-isco, __ who by the way play rock music, not disco. I was talking to the lead singer at the bar and found out that something happened with their drummer so they couldn't play. Well, anyway, I told him I played a little, so he asked if I could jam with them. They're actually pretty awesome. We hung out for the rest of the week getting hammered, and the guitarist had a tattoo gun and I got the tat."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, shaking from laughing so hard. He laughs with me and looks at the tattoo, cocking his head to the side as if really seeing it for the first time. It's not bad looking, but the story is absurd.

I compose myself, and ask about the toothbrush on the backside of his arm that looks new.

"Okay . . . So I was drinking―," he starts. I snort. _Another_ story of his that contains drinking. I cover my face in my hands, trying to hide from that embarrassing snort-laugh sound I just made. Seth pulls my hands away and pins them above my head. He smiles and leans down to kiss my nose. "Coffee, Jos. Jeez let me finish . . . "

That just makes me laugh harder, and I know I look like an idiot, but this is the first time I've been able to laugh like this in what seems like an eternity. He keeps my arms pinned above my head as he runs his nose down my hair, neck, and throat. His grin is constant as he touches me, waiting for me to calm down.

"So I got that this morning after I helped dad out," he says when I'm not laughing as hard.

"Why?"

"Because you texted me this morning and told me you like it when I brush my teeth before I talk to you in the mornings, so I got it so I would always remember to brush my teeth for you."

"You're lying!" I say loudly. He laughs and throws his leg over my body so he's straddling me.

"Not lying, Pussycat." I don't believe him, so I pull my arm out of his grip and slap the tattoo.

"What the fuck was that for?" He looks at the tattoo briefly, and then takes my hand and pins it back above my head with a lot more strength than before.

"If it was new then that would've hurt," I explain, defiantly. He smirks and leans down to lick my exposed throat.

"I'm not a fucking pussy, Jos. It's irritating, not painful." His hips push into mine, igniting a new kind of warmth in my core.

"I'm not sure I believe you," I say and slant my eyes at him. His head dips into my chest and kisses the curve of my breast, my nipples hardening immediately and begging to be kissed too.

"You don't have to believe me, baby," he murmurs, sucking the skin next to my nipple. I lift my hips automatically, excitement circling within me and erasing the humor that I had just been consumed with. He moans as my hips meet his, and he presses harder against me so I feel his stiff erection. "My tattoos are for me. A reminder of who I am, what I've gone through, and what means the most to me."

Instead of moving to cover my nipple like I want him to, he moves to my face and kisses the side of my mouth. That's another thing I love about Seth. There's so much more depth to him that he's only shown in intimate moments like this. He's insightful and more vulnerable than the cocky attitude he usually portrays. I love the man he hides from everyone else.

"So that doughnut must've really meant something to you," I deadpan. He smiles, laughter glinting in his pretty blue eyes.

"Well . . . It had strawberry frosting and sprinkles. It was very special," he says softly, straight-faced and shrugging one shoulder. I grin and try to move myself so I can kiss him, which he's keeping _just_ out of my reach. He moves away and smirks.

"Strawberry frosting and sprinkles, huh? How have you never had a girlfriend?" I ask.

"Bitches love tall, dark, and handsome, and only like to fuck tall, blond, and tatted," he says with a shrug.

It breaks my heart when he says it—wondering how many times someone said or did something to make him feel that way. There's the smallest tick in his jaw, barely discernable, but I notice.

"I love tall, blond, and tatted," I whisper, trying to show in one look that I love him beyond words. He shoved his way back into my life and took over, not letting me go and not giving up on me, and I know I will never love someone else as much as I love him. I can feel the surging emotion in every touch and every second we lay here together.

He looks at me for a moment, registering my words, and I wait, hoping he'll see how much I mean them. He pushes my hair back and sighs, sadness shadowing his eyes. "Not until after you fell in love with tall, dark, and handsome first."

And then I hear another piece of my heart crack at his words. I close my eyes, not sure how I can possibly make this better. I feel him let go of my hands, and he slides back down next to me. He tries not to show his insecurities in the real world. He hides behind this tough, obnoxious demeanor that makes people think he's so sure of himself, but he's not.

"This is what I was so scared of," I admit, keeping my eyes closed.

The sadness from earlier starts creeping its way back through me, and my anxieties about not being able to love him the way he deserves all come crashing back into my chest, making it hard to breathe. He turns me so I'm facing him and rests his hand on my cheek.

"I'm sorry, Jos. I shouldn't have said that . . . Just . . . Sometimes I don't get it. I don't understand why you fell for him. And it scares the shit out of me that I'll always be your second best."

My eyes open in a flash, and I see the hurt and fear in his eyes, an honesty that he doesn't always show.

"You were _never_ second best. You were _always_ the best, and I've never felt good enough to be with you. I'm still not. First it was that I didn't feel like I was your type―you were never with girls like me. And now . . . " I think about how I took away a child's life, and I'm sucked into the pull of despair, of self-loathing, all over again.

What was I thinking? I'm _still_ hurting Seth—all because I chose Blake over him before.

"Oh my god, what am I doing?" I gasp, covering my mouth as tears sting my eyes.

"Stop. Don't do this now, Josie." Seth pleads roughly, moving my hand away and grasping my chin.

"I'm so sorry, Seth. I thought I loved him, but I was so scared. I was scared to tell you the truth. I was scared to love you because I thought if anyone could hurt me the most, it would be you. You could ruin me. Destroy me. And now . . . now I . . . " I don't know how to finish that sentence. How do I explain to him that I'm no longer whole?

"You think I don't understand what's going through your head, Jos? I know _exactly_ what you're thinking. It's the same thing that plagues me when I look at you." He runs his hand down my bare back and pulls me closer.

"I don't deserve you, Seth. I'm this cloud of darkness, and if you get sucked in then you'll get hurt, too."

"Baby, I've been sucked in since the day I met you. There was no hope for me. And I don't mean when you punched me. I mean the first time I saw you," he smiles at the memory, tracing circles on my back. "I saw you reading under the tree at recess and I just _knew_ there was something about you. It was like I knew even at six years old that you were the other half of me."

"Seth," I whisper, running my hands over his chest. When I reach his neck I hold on to him, expressing every fear and hope in my eyes. I want him to know that I love him, but I don't want him to be hurt when he realizes he deserves so much more. He continues before I can say anything else.

"I know you're feeling guilty about the abortion. I know how it feels to think that you deserve the worst in life because of a mistake you made, but I am _begging_ you to let it go. Let me show you how much you deserve this." His mouth moves to my forehead as he tries to convince me to let him in. He leaves sweet kisses down the side of my face and breathes roughly. "Even if the world is against you, I will always be with you. I _get_ you, Jos. Better than anyone else." His hand cups my cheeks and he brings his eyes level with mine. I want it. I want him so much my chest feels like it's going to burst from trying to connect with him.

"I'm so broken," I cry. "I love you with every cell in my body. Every piece of me is screaming to be with you, but I can't just give you my heart, because it's in ashes. There's nothing whole in me. You deserve so much more than broken pieces."

"I'm not asking to fix your heart. I'm not asking to mend you. I love each and every shattered piece of you. I'm asking that you let me love you. Let me love each piece of your broken heart, and I swear to you I will make up for every heartache you have ever experienced."

I've been beaten down, bullied, near death, and left broken-hearted, but he wants me broken just as much as he wants me whole. I convinced myself that Blake had been the right choice, but I was wrong. So very wrong. My other half has been here the whole time, ever since we were little kids. Blake said once that he saw a connection between Seth and me, and I so easily pushed it aside to explore something safer and easy.

"Blake was a safe zone for me, Seth, and he was comfortable. He hurt me so badly when I found out he was lying to me, but it was nothing compared to the pain I felt when you left. When he said those things at the party, it just proved that I deserve to be alone. So I've been fighting this thing between us tooth and nail since then."

"And how's that working for you?" he asks, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I love you too much."

"If you love me forever, it'll never be enough, Pussycat," he says before bringing his mouth down to mine. His lips graze mine, but he doesn't move them. "You're mine now, Jos. No more running. As long as you're mine, I don't give a fuck about the pricks you've been with before me."

"Well then, I guess it's a good thing I'm undoubtedly yours," I whisper, lips brushing softly against his and tingling from the brief contact.

How he's able to wipe away all my fears in a couple of minutes, I will never be able to explain, but he does. He turns my fears of not being good enough for him into reassurance that we're perfect for each other, and just like that, my qualms vanish. I'm back in the wonderland of love and lust that Seth is offering, positive that I'll never be able to leave.

"That _is_ good," he says, gliding his hand between my legs. My skin breaks out in goose bumps and heat all over when I hear Seth's chest vibrate in pleasure. "Never gets old . . . "

I curl into him further, my breasts hitting his chest, sending a shock straight to my toes. I don't even realize I'm holding my breath until he claims my mouth passionately, and I feel like I can breathe again now that his lips are back on mine. Right where they belong. He teases the tip of my tongue with his, pulling it away each time I try to suck it further into my mouth.

I grip his hair tighter in my fingers, pulling him harder against me, his hair smooth and thin and his hard, hot body like velvet fire against mine. His muscles tighten in the sexiest way as he wraps me in his arms and kisses me with more fervor and passion than we've ever allowed ourselves to show. He flexes against my back and the brush of skin is electrifying. I pull my head away and move my mouth to his arm.

I kiss his bulging bicep, looking into his eyes seductively as my tongue tastes his body. I kiss every tattoo that I see from his arm to his chest, savoring the taste of Seth and sex. His knee pushes between mine and I rock against it in an attempt to soothe the throbbing ache between them. My pussy is wet and ready for him, ready for him to bury himself inside of me and take me to a world only he and I can go.

When my hands move to his abdomen, I'm shocked by the blazing fire seeping into my fingertips. I look back up into Seth's eyes and see him looking at me with so much craving and need, his kind blue-green eyes heated and alluring as he watches me ravage his body with my mouth.

He groans as I climb on top of him and lick my lips, intensity building behind his eyes as they zone in on my mouth. I start my sexual exploration on his defined, hard abdomen, licking the dips in his muscles. Every moan I get out of him encourages me onward.

His hand plays with my hair, tugging it and wrapping it between his fingers. I move my mouth to one of his nipple piercings, hungry to taste it in my mouth. I flick it with my tongue, and his grip moves to my scalp, fisting my long hair in his strong, secure hand.

His chest moves in rapid short pulsations under me, and I feel a sense of power over him. I smile lightly as he tightens his grasp, revealing his impatience for me to continue what I started. This time when my tongue touches his nipple, I let it linger as I enjoy the cool metal and his hardened skin. I suck it into my mouth and pull the ring between my teeth. I get lost in his taste and the sharp breaths he's taking.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I can't fucking take it anymore," he growls, flipping me over, pinning me to the bed, and spreading my legs apart eagerly. His head dips between them and he licks the length of me, making sure I'm wet and ready. He comes back up, licks his lips, and gives me a half grin as he pushes himself into me.

I cry out, lean my head back, and push my chest up to him. His thumbs caress my hardened and extremely sensitive nipples as he rocks in and out of me. His thick cock makes every sensation feel ten times better as it enters my tight body. He reaches every crevice that's screaming for his touch, never missing a beat as he drives his hips against mine in a beautiful rhythm.

Our breathing heats the space between us, moaning and groaning intermixing to sing a melody in tune with our hips. Seth's hands move to my waist and he lifts me so my ass is off the mattress. Gripping my hips hard enough to make bruises, he thrusts into me, going even deeper in this position, never slowing down or softening his movements.

His blond hair slides over his forehead, and his eyes darken with need. Sweat glistens against his delicious chest and arms, his hips pound harder and harder into me, and there's so much fucking love that we're trying to express to each other―trying to make up for four years of lost time.

I'm so overwhelmed with feeling. Feelings of love, salaciousness, and raw carnal desire. Tears sting my eyes as he brings me closer to the pinnacle that my throbbing core has been reaching for. I cry out and moan, whispering his name as I watch him take me with a strength and passion that I've never experienced but will love and treasure forever.

I start to shiver, climax building higher, and Seth takes his hands off my hips to lean forward so he's eye level with me. He kisses my bottom lip, licking it and pulling it into his mouth, and his hand reaches up to grab some of my hair. "Say it," he says, his voice gravelly.

I know what he wants. What he _needs_ to hear.

"I love you, Seth," I whimper. His hips continue to grind against me, rubbing my clit until I can't hold on any longer. He moans, watching me intently, and moves his hand to my cheek as I scream my release.

His moans increase and his hips rock harder and more unsteadily inside me. Finally, he kisses me hard and moans into my mouth as he comes. He groans more, nipping and kissing my swollen lips.

His mouth moves across my face, making exaggerated moaning noises and smooching me until I'm smiling widely. "I love you, Pussycat."

"I love you, too, Sethy Poo." He chuckles and licks the side of my neck. He's obsessed with my neck.

"You know what I really want right now?" he murmurs against my skin. _Surely he can't be ready to go again!_

"What?" I ask, holding back a laugh. His head pops up and he looks at me with a serious expression.

"Apple fucking pie."

And here comes another fit of giggles.

# Chapter 22

### Seth

"Okay, okay . . . Open up," I say, trying and failing to hide my grin. "I promise I won't mess with you this time."

Josie gives me a cute-ass look of uncertainty, but she still opens her mouth, tongue slipping out slightly to take what I'm offering.

"Nope . . . You gotta say _ahhh,_ " I tease, holding back. She pouts her pretty lips and I lean in to kiss her bottom lip, biting it briefly before I pull back.

"Ahhhh . . . " She sticks her tongue back out and waits. I point the nozzle to her tongue and smirk at her expectant and wary expression. I push the white tip, but move it quickly to her cheek so the whipped cream gets on her face instead of her tongue.

She shrieks and bats me away, but I lock my arms around her on the counter and hold her still while I lick her cheek. I chuckle as she giggles and fidgets to get away.

"Seth, stop it!" she squeals, turning her head. My tongue follows easily, and I clean her of all the sticky white cream.

"All clean," I say and give her one last big sloppy kiss on her cheek.

She turns her head, scrunches her nose, and glares at me. Her mouth puckers to the side and I can tell she's trying to hold in a laugh. I take the bottle and spray more into my mouth as she scowls.

"Okay, Pussycat. I swear I'm done this time. You can have some," I tell her, holding my arms up in surrender.

"I don't believe you!"

"Are you willing to take the chance? I mean, whipped cream is on the line here."

"You're teasing me." She pouts again, and I grin broadly. I lean in to take her lip in my mouth, but she turns her head away before I can.

"Keep doing that, Pussycat, and you'll be missing out on a lot of treats," I threaten. She turns and gapes at me, giving me the perfect opportunity to take her bottom lip between my teeth. I pull and then suck on it gently, watching her eyes try to mask the pleasure she feels when I kiss her.

"You play dirty," she complains.

"Open up. I swear I'll give you some." She looks fucking perfect on my kitchen counter, wearing one of my big T-shirts that hits her knees, thoroughly-just-fucked-hair, a makeup free face, and splashes of red on her cheeks. I've never seen anyone as gorgeous as her.

She sticks out her tongue again. I move the can to her tongue and smile when she continues to glower. I lick her tongue before I squeeze the nozzle, only I move it back to my mouth before it reaches her.

"Seth!" she cries, trying to push me away. I laugh and shush her. I grab both of her cheeks and forcibly bring my mouth to hers, shoving my whipped-creamed tongue into her mouth. She yelps, but her tongue gradually follows in sync with mine.

"Shhhh, you'll wake my parents," I say before going back into her mouth, devouring her and sliding my hand up her thigh until I reach her perfect―

"Too late, Seth Montgomery!"

I pull away from Josie abruptly at the sound of my mom's voice. I look at Josie and exaggeratedly widen my eyes in pretend fear. My mom can't tell I'm with Josie, so she must think I'm having a one-night stand in her kitchen.

"I need to talk to you for a minute, Seth," my mom says in a stern voice, turning back into the hallway. Josie groans and covers her face in her hands. I pull them away and kiss her palms.

"Told you I'd give you some that time," I say with a smirk and a wink. "Be right back."

I look back before I walk into the hallway and see her resting on her elbows, looking at the ceiling and swinging her legs.

She's been in my life since elementary school, she's been in my heart since I was about fifteen, but now she owns my very existence. She holds it in her tiny hand. She's taken over my life, and I'll never be the same again.

I walk up to my mom and lean my shoulder against the wall while I wait for her to start her bitching.

"What are you doing, Seth? Who is that girl? What are you thinking? Have you lost all sense? Have I raised you to be an idiot?" I raise my eyebrows and my lips curve up in a smile.

"Ouch, mom. Way to have faith in your son. What if that girl is my soul mate and you're not even giving her a chance."

She rolls her eyes and gives me an annoyed look. "Seth, don't be dumb."

"I'm not! You're seriously hurting my feelings here. I think I'm in love with that girl."

"Ugh, Seth. Stop joking around. What's Josie going to think when she finds out? And she will. She always does," she says, referring to the incident that made Josie put an end to her feelings for me years ago. I had admitted my mistake to my mom in a weak moment, when the pain of losing Josie had become too much.

Mom knew everything about us. She knew before I did about how I felt about Josie, so when I finally talked to her about how much it killed me to be around Josie when she was with someone else, she understood.

I crease my brows and put a finger to the side of my mouth, pretending to ponder her questions.

"Well . . . I think that Josie would be pretty damn shocked to find out she's got an identical twin out there somewhere . . . or at least shocked that she was unconscious long enough for me to take a _lot_ of advantage of her."

Mom stares at me for a minute, and then her eyes widen in surprise. She tries to maneuver around me, but I put my arm up to block her.

"Stop, Mom. She's embarrassed that you caught us, anyway. Harass her tomorrow."

She clasps her hands together and bounces on her feet.

"Oh my god, Seth!" she whispers excitedly. "It's about freaking time!"

"Yeah it is." I smile.

"Okay . . . Okay . . . I know I'm supposed to warn you about using protection and all, but I don't even care. Make me some grandbabies."

"Mom! Shut up. What the hell is wrong with you?" I grab her shoulders and turn her in the direction of the stairs.

"What?" she asks, innocently, but I see the mischievous glint in her eyes. I roll my eyes and walk her to the stairs.

"We are so _not_ talking about kids right now. Go to sleep, crazy woman." She turns around and smiles sweetly.

"I'm so happy for you, baby. I can't wait to tell your father!" She walks back upstairs and I walk back to the kitchen. Josie's got the apple pie sliced onto two separate plates and is spraying globs of whipped cream on the top.

I stand back and watch her, loving the way my shirt swallows her tiny body, and especially loving her gorgeous legs, bare and sexy as hell. I walk behind her as she shakes the can, trying to get more out of it, and I wrap my arms around her stomach, resting my chin on her shoulder. She shivers, but leans back and molds into me.

"Is she mad?" she asks, closing her eyes to enjoy the feeling of my mouth on her neck.

"Furious," I murmur, sucking hard on her skin. She jerks and turns around in my arms, eyes wide in concern. She loves my Mom, so she would never want to upset her. "I'm just kidding, Pussycat. She'll probably be making wedding plans with you tomorrow morning."

Her confused expression is cute as hell. She doesn't know that my parents and her dad have known I've been in love with her for years, and she sure as hell never thought she'd get married when she grew up, so that's a topic she's not ready for. I kiss the crease between her brows and scoop her legs up in my arms so I'm carrying her.

"You carry the pie, and I'll carry the pretty girl. Drop the pie, and I drop the girl. Got it?" I say with a stern look. She nods her head sharply as if taking on a very important mission.

"Got it, sir."

"Mmm, I kinda like that." I smirk at her, then carry her outside and back to my room.

We eat our pie on my bed, and my mind gets preoccupied by what my mom said. I didn't even ask Josie if it was okay to go without a condom. I never forget to wrap it up with other girls and even with her before, but we've been at it about five times already and not once have I asked it if she was okay with that. I'm not worried about knocking her up―she takes her birth control religiously―but I do worry that I could have crossed a line.

But _fuck_ did it feel amazing. And if I'm being honest, I almost don't want to ask and give her the opportunity to change her mind. I love watching my come smeared on her body, sliding out of her every time we're done. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen.

After she moves the empty plates to the side table, I grab her waist, pull her up to me, and lay back down on the bed. I run my hand through her hair as we look at each other, our peacefulness clear in how we fit into and look at each other.

"Jos?"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't use a condom."

She snuggles in closer, sighing. "I know."

"I should have asked."

She reaches up and kisses my lips softly. "I wouldn't change anything about tonight. I hope every day is like tonight."

"So you're okay if we don't worry about it?" I love the warmth that her words bring me.

She pulls back and looks at me pensively. "Are you worried about me getting pregnant? I'm on birth control." I see the troubled look in her eyes, and her worries that I might look down on her for getting the abortion.

"No! I don't give a fuck about that. I'll knock you up any day." I don't even know where those words come from, as it's never crossed my mind before she said that. I shake my head slightly and continue. "I just don't want you to ever be uncomfortable with me. I won't be like that asshole, Michael. I won't take advantage of you when you don't want it. I need to know that you're okay with it."

Her hand reaches up to rub my jaw, trying to ease the tension that the memory of her rape brought back.

"Seth . . . You're nothing like him. I don't feel that way at all. I feel so safe with you. So yeah, I'm okay with it." _She feels_ safe _with me?_ "Stop thinking about it so much. You saved my life."

"I wish I could've saved you from it all together," I admit solemnly. I never should have left her back there by the bathrooms by herself. I shouldn't have been so focused on getting laid.

"It's not your fault. You need to let it go now." I search her eyes, feeling her earnestness in that statement.

"I'll let it go if you stop beating yourself up for getting an abortion," I counter, moving my mouth to the corner of hers and kissing her swiftly.

She makes me feel like I can be good enough. She makes me feel like I can forgive myself for letting her get hurt.

"Deal," she whispers. I kiss her softly, a simple kiss, but there's so much to be said for the simplicity of it. When we pull away, she nestles deeper into my side.

"It's four in the morning, Pussycat," I whisper. "You should go to sleep."

"I don't want to," she whispers back.

It's been a long-ass day. She broke my heart and mended it, all in a twelve-hour span. I smile slightly, pushing her hair behind her ear. There's a little frown on her lips, and I run my thumb over it to try to smooth it out.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?"

"I'm scared to go to sleep." Her voice is timid. "I don't want the nightmares to come tonight."

I wrap my arms around her, making a cocoon of warmth for her where she can feel safe. I kiss her head and smooth her hair out with my hand.

"I'll try to keep them away, Jos. And if they come anyway, I'll be here. I'll never leave." Her eyes are heavy with fatigue, and she closes them at my assurance.

"I love you," she whispers. My heart pounds as I hear the words come out of her mouth again.

"I love you, too, pretty girl."

I hold her and watch her slip into a peaceful sleep. I don't care about sleep as much as I care about memorizing every part of the girl I love. Her small hand rests against my chest, her lips pucker, her dark, long eyelashes rest beautifully on her cheeks, and her hair fans across the pillows and her shoulders.

I want to remember her like this, never forgetting the first time she fell asleep in my arms telling me she's in love with me, instead of loving me just as a friend.

I lean back slightly and reach under my bed, grabbing my camera and bringing it in front of my eye. The glow from the lamp makes for perfect lighting, and I snap a couple pictures of her. I put the camera back down and lean over to turn off the light.

I breathe her in, her vanilla and brown sugar scent filling my senses, and hold her tight, running my hands through her hair. The warmth coming from her tiny body and the steady movements of my hand skimming over her lulls me into a peaceful sleep.

***

I can tell something's wrong immediately.

My heart pounds in my chest as I try to determine why I woke up. Then I hear a whimper, the tiniest but most distressing sound, come out of the person wrapped around me.

I look down at Josie and see her face contorted in sorrow. I need to wake her up before she starts screaming again.

"Baby," I rasp, rubbing her face. She whimpers again, and I see a stray tear fall from her closed eye. My heart constricts and starts racing. "Please, baby . . . Wake up."

Her hands claw at my chest as a cry escapes her mouth. I wrap my leg around her, pulling myself so I hover over her body.

"Josie . . . Come on." I stroke her hair with one hand and pat her cheek with my other in an attempt to get her to wake up before the real fright starts. Terror washes over me like a bucket of cold water as her nails dig into my chest. I always catch her while she's in the middle of screaming; I've never watched the panic evolve during her nightmare before. "Josie!"

She's too far into her horror to hear me, and she starts screaming before I can call her out of it. I beg her to wake up, wiping away the tears as they escape her eyes.

"I love you, Josie. Come back to me," I try. Her eyes open quickly and she sucks in a large breath as if she had been about to drown in her fears. She looks at me, eyes wide and red.

"Oh my god," she gasps, another cry escaping her mouth. She lets go of her grip on my chest and covers her mouth. "I killed her. I did it. It's all my fault." She sobs into her hands and shakes her head back and forth.

I had a feeling that this is what haunted her at night, but she never opened up to me about it before. "It's okay, baby. You didn't hurt anyone."

"There's so much blood," she cries hysterically. She pulls her hands back and another sob falls past her lips as she looks at them, blood under her nails and on her fingertips. _Shit._ I look down at my chest and see blood trickling from eight scratches that run down my torso.

"Fuck," I murmur. This isn't going to help. I swipe the blood and lay against her so she can't see it. "It's okay, Josie. You didn't mean to. It's going to be okay. We'll get through this, I promise."

I roll over and pull her on top of me, holding her securely in my arms. "I'm sorry I couldn't take it away, Josie," I whisper and stroke her hair while she sobs against my chest. Every time she cries my heart hurts more. I want to take away all her pain, erase it so nothing ever torments her heart again. Easing some of her despair is the best I can do, and I barely even know how to do that.

Her breathing evens out, and her tears stop after a few minutes of me whispering to her and rubbing her back.

"I'm so sorry," she mutters, voice thick with sleep and sadness. Her eyes fall to the scratches she made on my skin, but I tip her chin up so she doesn't look.

"I don't know how to protect you from it," I confess guiltily.

She shakes her head and closes her eyes. "This is my fault. I thought I was okay with my choice. I thought I made the right decision. I was depressed afterward and had a couple bad dreams. Some of them about the night you left me and other times they were about the baby, but it was never this bad . . . He's back in my dreams, Seth . . . "

I didn't think my chest could hurt any more. Mother fucker. I wish I had killed him that night, so she would never have to worry about living in the same world as someone who destroyed her.

"Then Blake's there," she continues. I tighten my grip on her shoulders, and she opens her eyes to look at me, apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about—"

"Shut up, Jos. Tell me what you see." She nods her head and nestles into me.

"He's so angry. I try to ask him what's wrong but I can't hear him. We're at a graveyard with a box between us and when I look down, there's blood soaked through my shirt on my stomach. I look at my hands and there's so much blood dripping through all my fingers. And a bloody knife. Usually I don't see anything in the box, but tonight I saw a pink bow . . . " She lets out a sob. "I killed her," she whispers.

"You need to let it go, baby. We need to change the way you see yourself because of it," I tell her quietly, holding her tighter. I kiss the top of her head and brush her hair back. "We'll work through it. You're not alone anymore, okay?"

"Thank you," she says in a low voice. I hate seeing her face streaked with the pain that infests her dreams. I lean down and kiss the small stray tear resting on her jaw, hoping to take away just a fragment of her aching. Then I graze her skin until I reach her lips, tenderly kissing them. Her lips are so soft and tender after she cries.

I kiss her gently, memorizing her lips and tongue in a slow, sweet way. She makes small, soft noises of pleasure, and I grab the side of her face, letting the kiss turn into something so much more than safe. It's sensual and pure passion, and I pull her lips into my mouth so my tongue can consume them.

Her hands run through my hair, grasping at me whenever I pull away. It's so sexy the way she needs me; I need her just as bad. I never understood what it meant to feel whole until she let me inside her heart.

I pull myself over her tiny figure, never breaking away from her mouth. There's something so intimate about this moment with her. Our mouths show each other that we need each other to breathe, and our hands hold each other close, not ready to separate. I move my hand down to her thigh, pushing up the T-shirt she's still wearing.

Just the slightest touch of her silky skin makes me hard, and my dick's throbbing by the time my fingers slip inside of her. She's already wet for me. I position myself at her entrance as my hand glides up her shirt. Her skin is like fire under my touch. I run my thumb over her hard nipples, playing with them until her moans get louder. As I plunge my tongue deeper into her mouth, I push myself into her pussy.

_Fuck_. I've had a lot of girls, but none of them have felt as good as it feels to be inside Josie. Once I slide all the way in, her mouth parts and her breathing is too fast to focus on doing anything else. I nip at her lips, and then move to her neck. I suck on her skin, making my mark on her, and I rock into her gently.

It's slow. It's passionate. It's fucking perfect.

I move back up to her lips, my movements getting quicker. Her hands run down my back, her legs wrap around my waist, and her hips reach up in unison with mine. I rest my forehead against hers and breathe gutturally.

"Jos, open your eyes . . . ," I plead. She opens them so I see her eyes loaded with a love and calmness that they didn't have earlier. She shivers as we look at each other, small moans compel me to thrust deeper. I run my thumb across her cheek bone and wrap my other arm under her to pull her even closer to me.

"Say it, Jos." I need to hear her say it again. I need to know this is real. I need to know I have her, and that she's mine completely. She holds on to me, as if beseeching me to never leave her, and she looks at me fiercely, her expression no longer hiding what she feels.

"I love you so much, Seth." Those fucking words. The best words I'll ever fucking hear. I groan and rock into her harder until her nails claw my back. I kiss her again. I'm consumed with emotion. I'm on the precipice of exploding.

"I love you, Pussycat." I moan against her mouth, her legs clamp harder around me, and I feel her tense. She whimpers as she comes, and her insides clench around my cock. I groan again and come with her, holding on to her tightly and never wanting to let go. I continue to kiss her even after we've both calmed down.

I'm so in love with this girl, it fucking hurts.

I feel something wet run across my fingers, and I pull back enough to see tears falling from her closed eyes. My heart expands more and I swipe them away, grabbing her face to kiss her again. She feels it, too. She understands exactly what I'm feeling.

She ruined me, and I love her even more for that. 

# Chapter 23

### Josie

"Ugh . . . This is going to be so freaking embarrassing," I groan, pulling on a pair of Seth's shorts. His eyes slide over my legs and he gives me a sexy half-smile that makes my skin prickle and insides heat.

"Jos, I guarantee they will make things awkward," he says, a note of humor and laughter in his voice. I groan again and hop on each leg as I try to put my sparkling black Toms on my feet. When I steady myself, I give Seth a glare that makes him smile bigger.

 "You really suck at this whole making-me-feel-better thing."

"Wasn't trying to. You _should_ be scared. They're fucking crazy."

I roll my eyes. "I've known them since I was six. . . They aren't crazy."

"Yeah, you know the versions of them that know you as my best friend. Now you're my girlfriend. They're going to freak you out. Just trying to prepare you," he says with a shrug, waiting for me to finish messing with my hair so we can go to the main house for breakfast. He skipped helping his dad this morning so he could stay with me, holding me so I wouldn't feel alone.

I stick out my tongue and walk to his door to leave. Before I open it, he grabs my waist and pulls me against his chest.

"What should that tongue be used for, Pussycat?" he asks. I slant my eyes, and purse my lips. He leans his forehead against mine and smiles faintly. I tilt my head up and lick his mouth and across his cheek, just like he did to me last night.

He laughs loudly as he runs his hand across his face to wipe off the slobber. "Close, but I can think of another place where that might be a little more welcome," he says with a bright smile that makes my heart skip a beat. He opens the door, and we walk down to the house.

"I can't believe I'm wearing your clothes right now," I mutter.

Would I have cared if we were still just playing the friend game? No. Then I couldn't have cared less. But now mom now knows that Seth and I are obviously hooking up, so things are different. Especially because this isn't just a hook up—this is so much more. Now I feel like I should be making a good impression, since I've admitted that I'm in love with their son.

"I mean, you could have worn that cute dress again . . . ," Seth suggests in response to my grumbling.

"Yeah with no underwear and covered in dirt from . . . " I glance away and don't finish my sentence. Seth grabs my hand and stops me.

"Please for the love of all things sacred, finish that sentence," he begs with a proud smile. He pulls me into him again and sticks my hair behind my ear. He holds me tightly so I can't move away.

"Ugh, Seth! You're driving me nuts already!"

"Just finish that sentence, Pussycat."

"Fine... From being fucked so good and hard against a tree," I finish seductively, loving the way his eyes darken and his mouth parts. I walk out of his embrace and leave him standing there.

"Ah, Josie! You're sexy as fuck, you know that?" He wraps his arm around my shoulder.

I shrug my shoulders, and move to open the side door to his house. Seth stops me again by wrapping his arm around my waist and leaning me up against the side of his house.

"Move in with me, Pussycat," he says again, running his nose up my neck and into my hair. His sexy voice rumbles in my ears and makes me weak in the knees. "Then you'll always have your clothes. You won't have to worry about me ruining them from fucking you the way I want to."

His words send a nice shock between my thighs, and I curve into him. I don't even know how to approach this subject with him. I'm so terrified of everything that could go bad in our relationship, and that makes it hard for me to think about agreeing to live together. My mind plays out every possible negative scenario. We break up, and then I have to watch him mess around with other girls. That would kill me.

"Seth," I whisper, loving the way he's biting my ear, but needing to explain that I can't move in with him yet.

"Shh, Jos. Just think about it. You don't have to decide yet, just promise me you'll think about it."

"Okay," I agree. His head pops up and he grins.

"Yeah? You'll think about it?"

"Yeah," I say with a soft laugh. "It's not a yes though, so don't get your hopes up."

He huffs out a laugh and takes my hand. "It's practically a yes. And I know a few ways to get a yes out of you."

I groan and he smiles as we walk into his house. I hear conversation coming from the kitchen area, and I'm shocked to see my Dad there talking to George and Gayle.

"What the fuck," I mutter under my breath.

"Told you they were crazy," Seth whispers and kisses the top of my head.

Gayle turns around at the sound of our voices and smiles enormously, opening her arms wide for me to walk into. I never needed a mom—I had a great childhood with my dads, and I never felt like I missed having a mom in my life. But if I ever did want a mom, I would want Gayle. She's always been a motherly figure to me.

"I missed you so much, Josie," she whispers, hugging me tightly. I don't exactly understand what she means, because I saw her a couple weeks ago, but I don't contradict her. She's about an inch or two taller than I am, and she has the warmest heart of anyone I know. A wave of sadness crashes into me as she embraces me. Daddy and Gayle were similar in so many ways.

She pulls back and sees the grief on my face. She grabs my cheeks and smiles sadly. "Oh, dear. It's okay. I know it's still hard." I nod my head, grateful that she understands why I'm hurting.

I've been blocking so many feelings for so long that I haven't let myself hurt about Daddy's passing. I've just tried to live each day, making sure I did what I had to do to survive.

If I had allowed myself to feel, then I would have wanted Seth to comfort me, and that wasn't an option at the time. Now I feel an arm snake around my waist, bringing with it an immediate sense of peace as Seth pulls me into him. I bury my head into his chest and try to control the emotions that came out of nowhere.

I take deep breaths, willing myself not to cry, but the tears have already started. How could I go so long without thinking about Daddy? It's wrong that I've forgotten about him and avoided grieving his death. I've wanted to be strong and show everyone—Dad, Brooke and Brandon, my co-workers, and every person who looks at me with pity—that I can move on with life even though I've been through so much suffering, but the full force of my anguish hits me violently as I think about Daddy. _Oh, Daddy. I'm so sorry. I miss you so much._

"Josie," Seth whispers. I feel him lean down and tilt my chin up so I'm looking into his blue-green eyes. He runs his fingers across my jaw, comforting me with a simple touch. "It's okay to hurt about it, baby."

"I don't want to be weak," I admit in a whisper.

"You're not weak. You're just feeling something." He leans his forehead against mine. "It'll be okay, Jos. I'm here for you. He knows you love him."

His words calm me. Provide a comfort I don't think I could have found anywhere else. He kisses my nose and then my lips briefly, making me feel better about the sadness that had just washed over me. He makes me feel like everything will be okay. I take a deep breath and nod my head. I turn back around, and all three of our parents have their eyes trained on us, curiosity in their expressions.

Gayle has a small smile on her face as she watches our interaction, and embarrassment creeps up inside me.

"Seven-letter word for an uncomfortable situation when no one knows what to say?" George asks, pointing to his crossword in the newspaper. His pen taps his chin as he ponders the answer. Seth's arms wrap around my stomach, holding me close to him just how I want him to be. George lifts his eyes and raises his pen as he figures out the answer. "Awkward!"

Seth chuckles behind me, and the joke clears the tension in the room. I laugh and lean against Seth as Gayle continues to cook, and George and Dad talk. Dad looks good. I think the fact that he came here in the first place is great, but he looks so much better than he did a couple months ago. I've been around for him, but I haven't been in the clearest state of mind, so I've missed these little things.

Seth turns his head to my neck as we stand there, and his tongue slips out to taste my skin. Every cell in me is on alert at the heat of his tongue. I lean my neck to the side so he knows I want more, and his grip around my stomach tightens. I get lost in his touch, not caring that we're standing in a room with our family. My stomach flutters and tightens in the most beautiful way, reacting to his mouth on me.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't have sex with my daughter right in front of me, Seth," my Dad's deep voice says, interrupting our moment. I feel Seth's lips curve into a smile in my neck, before he pops his head back up. My cheeks redden and in my imagination, I clobber my cartoon form into a pancake.

"Okay. We'll be right back," Seth says, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the hall. I stop my feet and try to pull away, laughing.

"Seth! Let go!"

He looks at me while I try to pull my hand out of his clasp, and he raises his eyebrows. "You sure?" he asks.

"Yes!" He shrugs and lets go, making me fall flat on my ass. I lean all the way back on the floor and cover my face with my hands. _I'm gonna fucking kill him._ I feel him come down next to me, not trying to hide his deep chuckle as he pulls my hands away from my face.

"You won't kill me," he says, smirking. _Fuck, I must've said it aloud._ "You told me to let go."

"You did that on purpose!" I try to pull myself up, but Seth blocks my movement with his arm.

"I can make it better," he says low enough for only me to hear. "I'll kiss that ass all day 'til you feel better."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, incapable of not smiling back at him.

"Mmmhmmm . . . ," he moans, running his eyes down my legs. He grabs the back of my head and kisses me while we lay sprawled out on the floor.

"Eight-letter word for something you want to yell at two people who can't keep their hands off each other," George starts.

Seth and I pull away grinning and wait for the punch line. "Get a room!"

Gayle mutters something not so nice under her breath, but I hear my dad laugh and it's a nice sound.

Seth grabs my hand to help me off the floor. "That's three words, not one."

"Smart ass," George mutters, going back to his puzzle.

Thankfully, no one asks us about the change in our relationship. I have no idea what I would tell Dad if he asked how this happened. Seth and I continue to touch each other throughout breakfast, as if each of us are afraid to let go. I never want to feel the emptiness I felt before last night ever again, and I'm scared if we're not close, then it'll come crashing back in.

After everyone finishes eating, we sit at the table and continue to talk.

"I've got something to say," Seth announces loudly, grabbing my hand. _Oh my god! This dumbass is going to kill me._ Everyone looks at him and waits for him to continue. "I'm in love with Josie." He raises our clasped hands so everyone can see, and I close my eyes and groan. Everyone waits a beat, and then starts laughing.

"You're so dumb," I mumble, holding back a grin.

His jaw drops overdramatically, and he takes his hand back and places it over his heart. "I'm seriously offended. She's denying our love." He turns to his parents and my dad and tries to gain their sympathy, but they just dismiss and chuckle at his obnoxious behavior. He shrugs and sighs loudly. "Guess I gotta kiss it out of her . . . "

He pulls my neck to bring me close to him and kisses me right there at the kitchen table, not skimping on the tongue or the smacking noises. I laugh as he assaults my mouth, trying to shove him away. I adore this Seth.

"I just needed an excuse to kiss you again," he murmurs, eyes glinting humorously as he looks at me.

"You never need an excuse to kiss me," I whisper back, lost in his world yet again. If the rest of my life is shitty as hell, I will always look back on this moment and feel complete.

"Before you two start going at it again, I need to say something, too," Dad says. We turn to him, Seth wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "I think I speak for all of the parents when I say that it's about goddamn time you two got together."

Gayle and George nod their heads vigorously at Dad's statement. _What?_

"What do you mean ' _it's about time'_?" I ask, settling into Seth's side. Dad has never talked about Seth and me before. In fact, none of them have, but I feel like I'm the only one out of the loop.

"He means that we've been taking bets for the past thirteen years on when you two would come out with your feelings," Gayle says, sitting back and reaching out to hold George's hand tenderly.

"You two have had that connection y'all have since you were eleven years old, so we started betting on when it would really happen," George pipes in.

"We thought it may have happened a few summers ago, but you two kept sneaking around," Dad chimes in. There's a little bit of sadness in his eyes, and I can tell he's thinking about Daddy.

"What about Daddy?" Daddy wanted things to work between me and Blake, so this doesn't make sense to me. Seth's arm tightens around my shoulders and he kisses the top of my head.

"Originally, he bet that it'd be after college. Which I guess would make him the winner," Dad says, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "Before he died that he thought it would happen whenever Seth came back. We all thought it would've happened a couple years ago, but Daddy knew how stubborn you are."

To say I'm shocked is not an accurate description of what I'm feeling. I look up to Seth, and he has a regretful smile on his face as he listens to Dad.

"You don't seem surprised by this." He looks down at me and grins.

"They've all known how I felt for a while now. You're the only one who didn't know."

"Daddy?" I ask, completely shocked by this new information.

"We talked a lot while I was away," he admits, rubbing his thumb across my shoulder. I turn away, trying to process this new information.

I kept us apart for so long. I was too stubborn to accept my feelings after I caught him with another girl, never wanting to feel that pain again, and they've all been waiting on me to admit how I felt about him.

"Hey," Seth says softly, trying to pull me out of my anxieties. I just don't know what to feel. "Jos, it's not that big of a deal."

"I feel so stupid." I never had to hide anything. I could've been straightforward this whole time, and we would never have had to waste those years apart. I wouldn't have fallen in love with someone else. I wouldn't have barricaded my feelings and chosen someone else over Seth. I wouldn't have used Seth in order to make myself feel better. If I hadn't been so stupid and if I had been honest, then I wouldn't be so _broken._

"I didn't come out with it right away either, Pussycat. We both fucked up."

"Yeah . . . We've been telling Seth he done screwed up for the past few years, sweetheart. Don't worry about it," George reassures me.

Seth nods his head and smirks at me. I still don't know what to say, and I have so many questions.

"So everyone's okay with this?" I ask everyone at the table.

"More than okay, Josie," Gayle answers with a smile. I look over at Dad and I try to ask the silent question that has me worried. I don't want to disappoint Daddy, and now he's not here to give me his blessing. Why would he work so hard to get me to tell Blake the truth if he was hoping that Seth and I would get together? That makes no sense.

"Trust me, Josie Bean. This is what Daddy wanted all along," Dad says softly, understanding my need to make sure I haven't let him down. "You should read some of the messages those two sent back and forth." He nods in Seth's direction and I look back up to him.

Anxiety fills my chest, making it harder to breathe. This is too much. Seth and I _just_ worked things out. I finally let him in last night. It's overwhelming to think about how everyone wanted this for us all along. Who's to say Seth will still want to be with me a week from now? The chase is over, so his interest might be over, too.

"We'll see you guys later." I hear Seth vaguely as my mind fuzzes in worry. I can feel the panic attack starting, but I can't stop it. I feel someone grab my arm, and guide me across the room and out the door.

"Breathe, Josie . . . " Seth's calm voice gushes over me. I try to listen, but my breathing is still quick and unsteady. "There you go, baby. Deep breaths."

Seth keeps me wrapped in his arms, rocking me while I try to shake the fear that just consumed my thoughts. I keep trying to take bigger gulps of air, and eventually it's not as difficult as it was. The attacks are getting shorter, but they still hurt.

"What happens if this doesn't work out?" I ask into his chest. "Everyone's going to hate me. What if one day you don't want me anymore? Then I'm left without my best friend and I've let everyone down. I don't—"

Seth places two fingers under my chin and forces me to look up at him. "Shut the hell up, Jos. You think I've been fighting for you for over five years just to let you go? Are you fucking crazy? I know everything about you. I know that you love chocolate chips in your popcorn. I know you hate when I leave my shoes in the middle of your hall. I know you have this annoying-ass habit of picking your teeth after you eat. I know you have this adorable habit of making the bed perfectly before you lay down in it for the night. Nothing you do will make me want to leave. You _own_ me. I'm nothing without you." His eyes are fierce as hell as he looks at me. "Unless you don't want me. Then that's different. So if you don't want me, then let me know."

He lets go of me and takes a step back, jaw clenching in irritation. I didn't mean to hurt him, but I see pain clear in his face. "No! Seth, that's not what I want. I want you. I'm yours, I promise . . . I'm just. . . "

"Worried," he finishes for me. He walks back up to me, until I'm up against the house. "I get it. It terrifies me to think that you may not want me, but you're feeling the same things I'm feeling when we're together. This thing we have, it's not just some random fling. People spend their lives waiting to find something like what you and I have. I know you feel it too, Jos."

I do. I absolutely do. Last night I was so inundated with love for him, I couldn't stop the tears after he made love to me.

"I do, Seth. It's never felt so right like it is with you. It's a lot to take in, though. I can't believe everyone knew about us hooking up!"

"You're not as quiet as you think you are," he says, grinning impishly.

"You talked to Daddy?" I whisper. This is the part that really threw me off.

Seth leans down and kisses the side of my mouth. "Yes," he says tenderly. "I needed to know about you, but I was trying so hard to stop loving you. I couldn't tell you how miserable I was, so I talked to your dad. I can show you the emails sometime if you want."

"Really?" I ask, tears building. _Why the fuck am I so emotional?_

He nods his head and cups my cheek before he brings his mouth to mine to kiss me softly. He pulls back again and his oceanic eyes sparkle with the same joy as earlier.

"And since I know you're worried about it, ask Tony why Will wanted you to tell Blake about the abortion. I know you want his approval, so talk to your Dad about that."

"How . . . " I gape at him in shock. "How do you know about that? What the _fuck_ is going on here?"  He chuckles and wraps his arms around me, lifting me off the ground.

"I don't divulge those kinds of secrets, Pussycat." He kisses me before I'm able to say anything else. I feel us moving, so I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on tightly to the man I've given my complete trust, love, and soul. His hands tangle through my hair and hold me to him. I let go of all my anxieties and let myself have this moment with Seth.

Seth saved me from my own self-destruction—I no longer feel so alone. I slip my tongue in his mouth and massage his tongue with mine. His hands cup my ass, groping me while he walks us toward his room.

"I . . . love . . . you . . . so . . . freaking much . . . ," I say in between kisses, holding his face in my hands. He moans against my mouth, and I feel us climbing up the stairs. Never breaking contact with me, Seth brings us into his room and enters his bathroom. He turns on the shower and climbs in.

"What are you doing?" I ask, pulling away and panting.

"'Bout to fuck you in the shower, what does it look like I'm doin'?" he asks, slamming his mouth back down to mine. I love it when he's turned on—his drawl is always thicker when caught up in the moment. Sexy as hell.

Our clothes get drenched and our lips are slippery. He sets my feet down and I kick off my shoes. He lifts my arms up and takes off the shirt I have on, throwing it on the floor with a loud thud. I reach back and take off my bra, my eyes focused on his. His hands are on me the instant the bra is off, groping my tits and pinching my nipples. I have small breasts, but Seth acts like they're the sexiest breasts he's ever seen.

His calloused, rough hands feel incredible on my wet, smooth skin and leave a spark of electricity as they run down my stomach, making me feel energized and alive. He reaches the band of the shorts I'm wearing and he slides them down my legs. He kneels down in front of me, engrossed in my body. Before I know what's happening, Seth grabs my thighs and flexes those hard, delicious muscles as he lifts me up and pushes me against the wall, kneeling so his breath hits my sensitive flesh. My legs rest on his shoulders as his mouth moves to the apex of my thighs.

"Oh! Fuck . . . ," I moan as his tongue slips inside of me. Oh god, his tongue. He circles my insides and then moves his head so he's tongue-fucking my cunt. When he feels satisfied that he's got me worked up enough, he moves his mouth to my clit and takes slow, savory licks at it. I keep one hand in his hair, and the other on the railing in the shower while I grind myself against his tongue. He caresses my clit in delicate circles, hardening his tongue so there's the perfect amount of pressure against me.

My hips move faster as we work harder to satisfy the roar crashing inside me. My moans escalate, and then a scream escapes my lips when his rough fingers fuck me.

"Sethy," I breathe, so close to the tip of my orgasm. "Fuck yes, right there . . . " He doesn't relent with his tongue after I tell him exactly where it feels good. I hold my breath and start to shake as I reach the peak, and then slump against the wall as the orgasm makes my insides quiver. I close my eyes tightly until I'm seeing bright white specks and revel in the beautiful numbness Seth just created.

"Hold on, Pussycat," Seth rumbles next to my ear. I don't know when he got up, or when he wrapped my legs around his waist, but I don't care. He plunges his thick cock inside me and fucks me against the wall, squeezing my thighs. He slips in and out of me easily, and I hold on to his shoulders as my back slides against the tile, loving each and every rough thrust.

"Fuck, Jos . . . You feel so fucking good," he groans into my neck. He bites my pulse and sucks it into his mouth, making me moan loader. "You're fucking mine. And I'm yours. You don't have to be scared anymore," he says huskily, pulling back and looking into my eyes. There's so much earnestness in his eyes, and I believe him completely.

"I'm yours. Don't leave me," I beg, breathily.

"Never," he says before kissing me vehemently. His hand moves to my center, and he flicks my clit repeatedly while he slides in and out of me. It's like there's a fire building in the pit of my stomach, and it feels incredible, but it hurts from the need to be extinguished. I start to tremble, no longer able to hold back.

I feel Seth's hand in my wet hair, tugging on it until I open my eyes to him again. He's close too. His eyes are a salacious blue, with flecks of green and gold intertwined—the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. There was a point in my life when I went to him to show me how it felt to be loved, but I never felt the intensity of it until now. He's so in love with me.

"Say it," he beseeches, slowing down his pace until I say it.

"I'm so in love with you, Seth."

He moans again, speeding up until we're both shaking from the powerful orgasm. "I fucking love you, Josie." 

# October
# Chapter 24

### Josie

I giggle when I feel his mouth on my neck again.

"Seth! That is _not_ doing work!" I exclaim, unwilling to pull away from his mouth.

"This can be my new job," he murmurs, tightening his arm around my waist.

I make a humming sound. "You'd rather kiss me than edit naked pics of sexy women?"

"Any day, all day. You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen, anyway. No comparison." I pull away when he starts sucking on my neck again, narrowing my eyes.

"Stop giving me hickeys. I'm going to get fired if you don't stop."

He grins wickedly and kisses my mouth, pulling my top lip between his lips.

I groan again, bewildered that he's able to distract me so easily.

We've been inseparable for the past week, but I haven't tired of being with him for one single moment. When I'm at school, all I can think about is getting home—well, to his house—and being wrapped in his arms. I daydream about everything he does to me and what he plans on doing to me later. I look forward to every morning text with a new message revealing another thing he loves about me, and I look even more forward to the midday text telling me what he wants to do to me when I get home. It's a little awkward having a lady boner going on when I'm in the middle of teaching elementary students.

The love I harbor for Seth is unreal. It consumes me. I feel it draped around my heart and soul, and it blankets me with a peace I never thought I deserved. I loved Blake, I really did, but there's no comparison to what I feel when I'm with Seth.

"But they look so sexy on your pretty neck," Seth says huskily, pulling away and looking at my neck with longing.

I'm sitting in his lap in a lounge chair at the back of Mrs. Woodward's bookstore, Reading Haven, trying to read, but he keeps distracting me. I told him I wanted to read after I ran some errands, so he said he'd come with me and do some work. That's not quite going as we planned, though.

"Yeah . . . You're the only one who thinks it's sexy."  I hide my grin by turning away so I can get back to my Kindle.

He snatches it from my hand and tilts me back so he can attack my neck again. "That's a fucking lie. I saw you smiling at that one I made on your ass yesterday."

I giggle, remembering how he caught me checking out my ass in the mirror. "That's my ass, not my neck. I'm not showing my ass to anyone but you."

He pulls up and looks at me, eyes glinting with humor. "You better fucking not be," he says seriously, even though I know he knows I wouldn't do that.

"Well . . . ," I tease. His eyes harden and he grips my hands to hold them still while he brings his mouth back down to my neck. He sucks on my throat hard while I giggle and try to wriggle out of his grip. He pulls back and cocks his head to the side while observing my new mark.

"That should work," he says with a shrug. He looks back up to me and I purse my lips, looking at him as if I'm angry. "Don't look at me like that, Pussycat. Just claiming what's mine."

"Next you'll be tattooing my skin with your name," I joke, trying to grab my Kindle back.

He pulls it back and smiles. "Now that's a great idea."

I roll my eyes, and he laughs. He sobers up and brushes my hair back, looking at me affectionately. "Only mark that perfect skin when you're sure about what you want, pretty girl."

"I was thinking about an apple pie," I deadpan.

"Good choice. Can't wait to see it." He kisses my cheek, and I melt into his arms again.

"I love you," I whisper for the hundredth time today.

"Never gets old," he whispers back, kissing me sweetly. We make out like teenagers in the back of the bookstore, no longer interested in the work we were trying to get finished, and simply enjoying each other instead.

When we finally break away, lust is palpable. I would take him right here, if I wasn't so nervous about getting caught. I burrow into his chest and listen to his breathing and heartbeat while he plays with my hair.

"I love you, Pussycat," he says quietly. I smile and soften into him even more. He's right, it doesn't get old. "Your dad texted me and asked if we're still good for dinner."

"I swear he talks to you more than he talks to me," I mutter. "Yeah. I'll head over in a minute . . . What do you have to do, anyway?" We brought two separate cars because he told me he had something he had to pick up while in town. He told me I should go over first and make sure Dad didn't burn down the house.

"Hey, I didn't ask you what you got for that baby shower you're throwing in a couple weeks."

"Do you really want to see the ridiculous games I had to get for this thing?" I ask, raising my eyebrows and looking up at him.

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. "Nope. Don't care."

"Fine keep your secrets, mystery man . . . But one of these days, I will get you to spill it all," I say, getting off of his lap.

"I don't keep many secrets from you . . . But the ones I do are always because I love you."

"That makes no sense. You're lucky I love you and trust you," I threaten.

"Yes I am," he says seriously a genuine smile on his lips.

I kiss it quickly and pick up my purse to leave. "Don't be long," I say.

"Why? You'll miss me?" Always so freaking smug.

"No way. Just worried you might go through withdrawals, and I'd prefer you not to die just yet." I turn around and walk away, but I hear him call out to me.

"You'll miss me!" he hollers.

"In your dreams, crazy man!" I holler back before going to my beat-up car and driving to my dad's house.

As soon as I walk into the house, I smell garlic galore and know that Dad went with his not-so-famous spaghetti. Daddy always cooked for us, but when he couldn't on a very rare occasion, Dad always cooked spaghetti. And he loves garlic.

"Hey, Dad," I say, walking into the kitchen to find my tall, muscular, and bald-headed father wearing oven mitts on his hands and trying to pull out some garlic bread.

"Shit," he mumbles when his wrist hits the edge of the hot cookie sheet as he tries to turn around and look at me. I try very hard to hold back a laugh, not wanting to upset him. He finally gets the cookie sheet out and throws it on top of the oven. He turns around and looks at me with a smile. "Hey, Josie Bean."

"Need help?"

"Nope. Finished now . . . Where's Seth?" I swear, if I didn't know that Seth was my best friend and boyfriend, I would think those two were best friends.

"He said he had to pick something up. He'll be here after he's done." I sit down at the table and Dad sits across from me.

"Oh, that's right . . . Okay."

"Wait, you know what he's getting?"

"Yep," he says with a stupid smile. I narrow my eyes at him.

"Are you two having an affair behind my back?"

Dad laughs, a deep laugh that I don't get to hear too often. "He wishes," he teases. "So, you look like you've got something on your mind. Spit it out." He's right. I didn't bug Seth too much about what he was doing because I wanted a few minutes to talk to Dad about what he said about Daddy last week. I sigh and lean back in my chair.

"Why did Daddy tell you to tell me that story? I don't get how you can say that he wanted Seth and me together, when he tried so hard to get Blake and me to work out." I haven't brought myself to read the e-mails yet, unsure of how I'll react to them. Dad leans back in his chair and I see a smile in his eyes even though he doesn't actually smile.

"Everything your Daddy told me to tell you is the truth. He wanted you to know that story so you could open up about whatever you've been hiding. He genuinely believed that being open and honest would help. If Blake loved you like he said he did, then he could forgive you or try to make things work. If not, then . . . " He lets the insinuation set in. We both know what Blake did when I opened up.

"Look, he liked Blake when you two first started dating. But the boy broke your heart twice, baby," he continues when I just sit there with a stunned look on my face.

"He knew Blake would leave?" I ask softly, perplexed.

"Daddy was a conniving man behind that sweet façade. He killed with kindness. He and Seth talked the whole time Seth was gone. Seth told us about how brokenhearted he was that you didn't want him. He was only supposed to be gone a year, but he was hurting too much to come back. Will seemed to have gotten through to him, though, because Seth started making plans to return, but then Daddy died, so he came back a little sooner. I can't explain everything that they talked about, but Seth knows he had Daddy's approval."

"I don't get it!" I exclaim, frustrated. "Daddy wanted me to have another broken heart? So he convinced me to tell Blake in case Seth ever came back into my life?"

"Yeah. Kinda." Dad pauses and runs a hand over his beard. "He'd been trying to get you to open up for a while, because he thought if you let go of the guilt, then maybe you could move on. And he wanted you to move on, Josie . . . just not with Blake. But he also knew that if Blake stayed and worked things out with you, then Blake must love you. And he would have been okay with that. _I_ wouldn't have, but your Daddy would have.

"Daddy just wanted his baby back, Josie. He wanted the girl you used to be before Seth left and before Blake hurt you. He knew Seth would come back and that he wouldn't give up until he got you back, so Daddy wanted you to let go of whatever happened between you and Blake. Otherwise, you wouldn't open yourself up to being loved again."

I had that problem anyway _because_ I opened up to Blake, but I guess I see what he's saying.

"Wow," I say, breathing out a long breath. "Daddy was kinda evil."

Dad laughs again. "Yeah, sometimes he acted like a Queen Bitch in high school. He just hid it really well." He reaches across the table and pats my hands. His eyes, dark blue like mine, shimmer with untold stories. Memories of the past that I want to learn. "We all saw the connection between you and Seth. But we also understood that it had to be scary to let yourselves venture into that whole new kind of relationship since you wouldn't want to ruin your friendship."

"It _was_ hard. That's why it took me so long. I didn't know that he loved me like that."

"I've experienced the greatest love I'll ever know and I've seen genuine love between others like Gayle and George, but there's something special about how deeply Seth loves you, Josie Bean. I've never seen someone as captivated by a person as Seth is by you. When he looks at you, you can _feel_ the way he loves you. And as much as I hate to watch it, the boy can't keep his hands off of you. I've watched him love you for years, and I really I couldn't ask for anyone better for you, baby."

I smile slightly, my anxieties vanishing. That makes me happy to hear.

"Thanks Dad," I say. I get up and hug him, holding on to him tightly. I feel awful that I haven't been present like I should have been lately, and I want to make it up to him. Maybe I can bring myself to come over and hear old stories about him and Daddy. "You should probably take the sauce off the stove, though."

He pulls back and mutters another curse under his breath before getting up and removing the sauce pan from the heat. This time I don't hide my chuckle as I watch him scramble around the kitchen. I walk to the back sliding-glass door and look out into the backyard. I look down and see a familiar pair of boots. I cock my head to the side and try to think of the last time Seth and I were here together.

"Hey, Dad?" I call behind me. "Why are Seth's boots here?"

I'm so distracted by the shoes that I don't hear anyone come up behind me. My favorite tattooed arms wrap around my waist and I feel a wet kiss on my cheek.

"Don't go asking questions you're not sure you want the answer to, Pussycat." I turn around in his embrace and slant my eyes.

"Seriously. Tell me."

Dad walks up to us and shrugs. "Seth comes over here all the time. He left them here last week when he was in a rush."

"All the time?" I ask, shocked. _Why am I always the last to know these things?_

"Since he came back, Josie Bean."

Seth doesn't say anything. He just buries his head into my neck and breathes me in as if the hour apart was way too long.

"I'll be back down in a minute, Dad." I pull away from Seth and pull on his hand so he follows me upstairs. I hear his deep chuckle behind me, but he doesn't protest.

"Don't be too long. Dinner's done," Dad calls to our backs. _Yeah, not really in a hurry to eat that, Dad._ I drag Seth into my room and close the door behind us. He leans against my dresser with a knowing smirk as he waits for me to say what I'm about to say.

"You come here all the time?"

He nods.

"Since you've been back?"

Another nod.

I walk a little closer to him. "Why?" I know why. He shrugs, trying to blow it off. "I didn't think I could love you any more than I already did, Seth," I whisper, leaving an inch of space between us.

"He was lonely, baby. It's not that big of a deal."

"It's a big deal to me. I never asked you to help take care of my dad while I wallowed in my own self-pity."

"I promised Will that I would take care of you, Jos. That includes taking care of your Dad when you couldn't handle it. It's nothing."

"I love you so much," I whisper. This explains why Dad has been recovering so well since Daddy's passing. It explains why he hasn't been as depressed since Seth came back.

I grab the back of his head and kiss him fervidly. I'm biting his lip, then he's biting mine, and we evolve into a rough mesh of tongues twisting, teeth clashing, and lips sucking fiercely. I devour him the way my body is craving. A need to thank him, to show him how much this means to me, motivates my actions.

My hands run down his black shirt, and I play with the top button of his jeans. I undo it easily and unzip the zipper so I can take them off of him. I pull away from his mouth, and keeping my eyes on his, I lower myself to the floor, dragging his jeans and boxers down with me.

Seth's eyes are on fire with lust as he watches me, but he still grips my arm and pulls me back up.

"Don't, Jos . . . ," he says roughly, trying to kiss me again.

"Don't tell me no, Seth. I want to do this to you," I plead.

He groans and grimaces as if there's an inner war raging in his head. "I can't let you, Pussycat," he eventually says painfully.

"Stop it, Seth! Let me give this to you. You didn't rape me that night. You saved my life. It happened, and you stopped it in time so I didn't die. You saved my life then, Seth, and you saved my heart and soul since you've come back. This isn't you taking advantage of me-- this is just me needing to suck your dick."

# Chapter 25

### Seth

She's so goddamn sexy.

There's no denying that I want her, and there sure as hell is no way I want to keep stopping her from wrapping that pretty mouth around my cock. I groan again at her words and let go of her arm because I promised her I would try to let go of my guilt and move on.

I've never let her give me head before, thinking it was way too demeaning for her. I just wanted to love her—I didn't need her to do this.

She keeps her denim eyes on mine as she reaches between us, wraps her tiny hand around me, and starts to stroke my aching erection. _Fuck_. I'm hard as fucking hell, and my heart is pounding wildly in my chest. I don't stop her this time when she gets on her knees in front of me. Her eyes never leave mine as she slips her tongue out and flicks the head of my cock.

I make a growling noise like a caged and starving animal, and she smirks. Fucking sexy-ass, salacious smirk—like she's proud of herself for making me need her. She places her hands on my legs and takes the flat part of her tongue to run across the side of my dick. So hot. So wet. I already want to come for her.

I grip the dresser and breathe unsteadily, trying to control myself so I don't come before she even has me inside of her mouth. When she reaches the head again, she covers it with her lips.

"Oh my fucking god . . . ," I moan, closing my eyes. She grips my thighs and she takes in as much of me as she can. She only makes it about halfway down my dick, but it feels fucking incredible. _Fuck, she's sucking me deeper._ I open my eyes and watch her, her eyes still on me, lust raging inside them. _She's fucking getting off on this, too._ She hums, the vibration making me thump harder against her tongue.

She grabs my hand from the dresser and places it on the back of her head. _Fucking hell!_ I push on her head a little and she moans eagerly. She hollows her throat and tilts her head so my dick goes further in her mouth. I grip her hair and push into her throat more. I hate that I love that my cock is too big for her tiny mouth. But I can't help it—it's sexy as hell.

She moans again, evidently not turned off by my eagerness. Her tongue strokes me as she goes up and down on my erection. I can't fucking hold it anymore. My dick is pulsating so hard, blood roaring and ready for my release.

"Fuck, Josie. I'm about to come, so get off if you don't want me to come all over that mouth," I say through gritted teeth, gripping her hair harder. She lets out another sexy moan, and looks back up to me eagerly.

My girl. On her knees. With my cock in that pretty fucking mouth.

Fuck. Yes.

I tense and hold on to her head as my come spurts in the back of her throat. She looks fucking perfect licking me clean, a look of pure satisfaction written all over her face.

"You tasted so good," she says quietly, looking up at me when she's finished licking me. She looks confused.

"Did you think I'd taste bad?" I ask with a lazy smile, pulling her up.

"No!" she says with a laugh. Her cheeks get a gorgeous tint of scarlet. "Never mind."

I pull up my jeans and button them, then grab her and wrap my arms around her. I kiss her mouth before she can pull away.

"Tell me."

She rolls her eyes, in typical Josie fashion, and molds into my embrace. "It's just never tasted so good before," she mumbles, looking away. _Oh . . ._

"Well, fuck, Jos. No need to be embarrassed about that," I tell her with a wry laugh. "Told you all along that I was better than him." I kiss her collarbone and nibble it lightly. I can't get enough of this girl. "Thank you, Jos," I say softly, compassion and love for her thrumming in every cell in my body. "And I don't just mean for giving me the best blow job I've ever had, but for what you said."

I don't know how she did it, but she helped simmer some of the guilt that's been burdening me for so long. I'll never be okay with what happened, but she makes me feel like I can be exactly what she needs, anyway.

"You're an amazing man, Seth. You shouldn't feel guilty for saving my life."

"I don't see it like that."

"I know you don't. I didn't realize you held back from me because of what happened. I thought you just didn't find me as sexy as the other girls you were with."

"You want me to treat you like a slut like them?" I ask, quirking my lips. She smiles and wraps her arms around my neck. "You're the sexiest girl I've ever met, Pussycat. It was never that you weren't attractive to me. I never wanted to be rough with you because I didn't want you remember what _he_ put you through. I don't want to be a reminder of that."

"I like it a little rough," she whispers with a seductive smile.

"I know you do." I give her an impish grin, and she kisses my cheek before she unwraps herself from me and starts walking to the door. I grab her hand and pull her back. "Where you goin'?"

"To eat dinner, dummy."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . ," I mutter, pulling her toward the bed. I lean her back and crawl up her body, her skin already covered in goose bumps. I kiss her neck, then move to her ear and pull it into my mouth. "You don't get to do that and not get anything in return. Doesn't work that way with me, Pussycat," I tell her huskily right next to her ear, making her shiver. 

# Chapter 26

### Seth

"Okay, so I've been doing some research," I say as I walk into my room, looking at my phone and plopping onto the bed next to Josie.

"For what?" she asks, sounding distracted. I look over at her, and my heart skips a beat. She's sitting cross-legged and reading on her Kindle, comfy in her nerdy Harry Potter shirt and sweatpants, hair in a messy blob on the top of her head, and wearing her reading glasses.

I sit up, wrap my arm around her waist, and tackle her onto the bed. "Mmmm . . . That can wait. I didn't realize how fucking sexy you looked."

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. She tries to push me away, but I straddle her so she can't move. I take her Kindle out of her hand and put it on the side table. She gives me an evil glare, but that just provokes me more. I reach over and grab my camera. She covers her face in her hands, but I snap some pictures anyway.

"Move your hands or I won't give you an orgasm later," I mutter, looking through my lens. She moves them and sticks her tongue out at me. I snap the picture. Perfect.

"Jeez, you're so moody when you're on your period. You're makin' me reconsider asking you to move in with me."

She laughs, forgetting I still have a camera in my hands, and I snap a couple more pictures. Feeling satisfied, I put the camera back down and lean down to kiss her pretty lips.

"Have I ever told you how much seeing you in this shirt and those glasses turns me on?" I ask against her mouth. She shakes her head. "Well, it does. Ever since high school, I would get a hard-on whenever I saw you like this."

I grind my hips into her so she knows exactly what I mean.

"You're crazy. I look ridiculous." But the fact that she doesn't care if she looks ridiculous in front of me makes me fall in love with her even more.

"I love it." I kiss her jaw and move to her neck. She's missing a mark on her skin, so I start to make one for her.

"Seth! I swear to god, if you put one more hickey on me, I'm banning you from kissing me ever again!" she exclaims, wriggling under me.

"I'd kiss you anyway," I murmur, biting the pulse on her neck.

"I wouldn't kiss you back," she challenges.

I brace my arms next to her and meet her daring look with a sly grin of my own. "I don't believe that. Let's test this theory."

"What do I get if I win?" she asks.

"You get my undying love."

"I have that anyway. Pick something else."

"You're right. It was worth a try . . . Okay, how about I won't give you a hickey for a whole month if you win."

"A whole month?"

"Yep," I lie. Like I wouldn't put that shit on her neck when she's sleeping. I can see the mistrust in her eyes, but she doesn't say anything.

"Deal. And if you win, then I'll just have to keep buying more concealer so my boss doesn't think I'm a hooker on the side."

"Deal," I whisper, brushing my lips against hers. I smile and then gently touch her lips with mine. I start slowly, barely touching her, and kiss her bottom lip. I hear a loud breath release from her, and I know she won't last long. I lick her lips softly, parting them open so I can touch her tongue. I brush the tip of my tongue against hers, and I feel her body melt underneath mine. The second time I rub my tongue against hers, it's with more force, and I feel her tongue start to mold into the movement.

I pull back and smile. "Ha!"

"That's not fair. I want to try again!" She giggles, and takes a deep breath, trying to get serious again.

"One more time." I'll take any reason to kiss her. This time, I tangle my hands in her knotty hair, bringing my mouth to hers a little bit harder. I suck her lip into my mouth, loving the tiny moan she lets out. I feel her lips start to suck my top lip into her mouth, and I start shaking in laughter.

"You suck at this."

"Okay. Okay. One more time!"

I don't agree, I just plunge my tongue into her mouth and grind my hips against her thigh. She doesn't even attempt to stop herself from kissing me back this time. Her tongue clashes with mine just as fiercely. I slide my hand under her shirt, my fingers brushing her stomach. She shivers gently under my touch, and it drives me fucking insane.

Three weeks have gone by since I got her to open up to me, and every single minute of every single day is consumed with thoughts of her. Every unguarded reaction or emotion I get from her is another reason to love her even more. I'm in love with my best friend, and having her love me back is the best feeling I've ever experienced.

Especially when she quivers like that when I touch her. Fucking incredible.

I slide my hands up her stomach and relish the feel of her delicate skin under my rough hands.

"Mmmm . . . No bra?" I ask, my fingers tracing the underside of her breast. A small smile forms on her lips and her green eyes are encumbered with lust.

"I was planning on going to bed soon," she says breathily.

 I look over at the clock on the night stand. "It's seven thirty, are you serious?"

"Yes. Not all of us can live on four hours of sleep."

"And sex . . . Four hours of sleep and a lot of hot, passionate, vigorous, and wild sex with you." I graze my mouth over her cheek, jaw, and neck, biting and sucking on the skin below her jaw.

"I have to wake up early tomorrow to get everything ready for Brooke's baby shower."

"Do you have to? You can stay home with me all day. I promise what I have in mind is a hell of a lot better than a baby shower," I mumble into her skin. I pull up her top so I have better access to her chest.

Fucking perfect tits. I clamp my mouth around one of her nipples, and Josie pushes her chest up to me more, purring in response. She moans louder the harder I suck. I move to her other breast and do the same to that one.

Her hands grip my hair and her breathing is quick, beautiful as she pants and hums with need for me. She's the fucking embodiment of perfection.

"I can't . . . ," she answers, huskily.

 I groan with her nipple still in my mouth, and she tremors from the vibration on her sensitive skin. I lick both nipples again, and then move back to her mouth. "Move in with me, Pussycat," I tell her for the hundredth time. She closes her eyes and smiles, still not giving me an answer. Every day I ask, and every day she doesn't give me a straight answer. She's practically moved into this room with me anyway, staying here every night since she told me she loved me, but I want her to say yes. She's still worried that I may not always want her, so she hasn't given me an answer yet.

She will. And it will be yes.

"A smile! We're getting closer to a yes." She chuckles and lifts her hips up to mine, ready for me to finish what I started. I kiss her jaw, and grind my hips against her. "You have a tampon in?"

"Would you take it out if I did?"

I laugh. "I really love you, Pussycat. Like more than you will ever know, but hell no."

"I read a book once where the guy did that."

"I'll buy them for you any day, but I'm not taking that shit out." She laughs with the prettiest smile on her face. Her eyes get a little more crinkled and slanted, and she's got a dimple on her right cheek.

"I had a feeling you weren't done with me today, so I took it out when I changed. I'm on my last day anyway."

"Mmmm. Pretty and smart . . . How did I get so lucky?" I kiss her smiling lips, and it doesn't take long before she's moaning again. I lean up and take off my shirt. Her hands automatically reach out to run over my chest, ribs, and stomach, scorching my skin.  Her thumb glides over my piercing, and her other hand runs over the muscles in my arm.

"I've been asking myself the same question about you . . . ," she says quietly, her eyes roaming over my body.

I show her just how lucky she really is, until she's limp and thoroughly fucked for the rest of the night. I grin lazily at her while she still tries to catch her breath and take off those sexy reading glasses of hers, placing them on the table next to the bed.

I carry her to the bathroom and turn on the shower, placing her on her feet again when I know the temperature is good. She's all tranquil and gorgeous, leaning into the shower spray until water droplets glisten against her skin. Her eyes close, and a satisfied grin settles on her lips. I step up behind her and hug her now-wet body.

"So, what were you going to tell me when you walked in?" she asks after a few minutes. I reach over and grab her body wash, lathering it in my hands before running them over her shoulders.

"I was doing research on your dreams." She still has nightmares at night. They don't seem to be as horrifying as they were before, but she still has the same dream every night, and I feel helpless every time she has to suffer through them.

"Was said research conducted on WebMD?" she asks.

I pinch her arm, and she yelps. "Well, it's where the finest scholars do their research, you know." She giggles harder, but she stops when I run the soap over her breasts, and leans into me again. "Anyway, smartass, it said what you're probably going through is PTSD."

"I guess . . . From the abortion, you mean?"

"Yeah. Blake must've triggered the emotions you were trying to keep away after you got the abortion, and that's probably why you've been having nightmares ever since that night. That, plus you used to have nightmares about being raped, so those entangled with the new nightmare. You said Michael is in them too, right? I'm sure the trauma from the rape is still so fresh, and when Blake started making you feel guilty about the abortion, it all got a lot worse."

"Okay . . . " She elongates the end of the word, not sure what else to say.

I grab more soap and take my time washing her stomach and back.

"And since you refuse to go see a counselor or therapist —" I start.

"Seth, we talked about this. I don't want it interfering with the possibility of getting the guidance counseling position at school next year."

I really don't think it'll affect her career, but I don't know much about it, so I let it go. I'll let her use it as an excuse—the poor girl had to sit through two years of counseling and probably doesn't want to rehash all of her problems again.

"I know, Pussycat . . . Well, I read up on a couple of ways to help."  I kneel down in front of her and work the soap from the top of her thighs down her legs. "You need to try and change the dream. Change how it plays out. If you picture the new dream throughout the day, then it can work its way into your nightmare at night."

I repeat the process on her other leg, taking my time to learn every part of her body.

"Just change it? How do I even do that?"

"Replace things. Instead of Michael choking you, think of your dads hugging you." I pick up each of her feet and scrub them while she holds on to my shoulders. "Personally, my ideal change would be for you to take that knife and stab Blake with it, but I'm not sure that would solve much." I stand up and grab for the bottle again.

She chuckles softy, understanding my humor completely.

I smirk and run the soap over her front again. "It also said to make sure you go to bed peacefully. Clear your mind and make sure that you're completely relaxed." I move my hand past her belly button, and circle the birthmark on her hip. I lean into her and kiss her wet lips. "And I think I know how to make sure you're relaxed every single night."

I move my soapy hands between her thighs and wash her. She grips my shoulder tightly while I rub my hands over her pussy and ass. I clean her thoroughly-- trust me when I say _thoroughly._ By the time I'm done, she's breathing heavily again, and she's got another look of contentment in her eyes.

I watch her as the water runs over both of us, washing away our past mistakes and filling me with so much affection my chest hurts. Nothing has ever felt so right in my life. Nothing has ever felt so fulfilling than having this girl say she loves me. The chains that have dragged me down in the past break apart when I have her in my arms.

Josie saved me from a life of misery, and there's absolutely nothing in this world that I can do to show her just how much that means to me. I want her for the rest of my life. For as long as our souls thrive beyond this life, I will forever be entwined with her, wanting and needing her in order to survive.

She reaches for my soap and scrubs it in her hands, and starts washing my body.

This girl is _so_ going to be relaxed before she goes to sleep tonight. 

# Chapter 27

### Josie

It's hard to look at all this baby stuff and not feel a twinge of pain and guilt stabbing at my heart.

I put a tack in the last streamer and feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I take a look around the room I decorated, and it looks like cotton candy threw up all over the place. Pink and blue decorations cover the space, turning the drab living room into an expectant mother's wonderland. Brandon convinced Brooke to wait on learning the sex of the baby, so the decorations had to cater to either a boy or girl.

Baby-related pictures, games, food, and presents scatter the tables. Yep, it's your typical disgustingly cute baby shower. While it's not my thing, I know Brooke will love it. Especially when she sees the baby pictures I got of her and Brandon.

"Oh my god! This is so cute, Josie!" Brooke's friend, Michelle exclaims. Michelle is tall, has beautiful, curly chestnut hair, and is a lot like Brooke's other friends—flighty and consumed with thoughts of makeup and clothes. I don't judge them, but it's sometimes surprising that Brooke and I are such close friends when I'm nothing like her other friends. Michelle is carrying the cake I told her to go pick up, and she sets it on the table I have reserved for desserts. She agreed to let us have the baby shower at her house, which made my job easier because it meant that I had extra hands and a place to get messy that wasn't my own.

"Yeah, it looks pretty good. Thanks for the help," I say, opening the box to make sure the bakery didn't mess up the cake. It's a cute baby's butt covered with a yellow blanket, and baby toes peeking through. Very adorable.

I sigh, heavy hearted, and go to throw away some decoration scraps and wrappers. I hear a cluster of voices, a sign of arriving guests. I take a deep breath and try to push away the pain. This is Brooke's day, not mine.

I check my phone and smile when I see a text from Seth. It's his morning text, even though he's been up for a few hours.

**Seth: _I absolutely love the way you smack your lips in your sleep_**

Before I can respond, I hear Brooke's voice clear as day as soon as she walks into the space. "Oh my god!" she squeals. I breathe out a laugh and head back to enter the baby zone. Dressed in a tight purple sweater dress and black leggings with boots, Brooke's already at the food table, looking at the different appetizers and treats for the shower. It's only been a week since I last saw her, but her stomach has grown even more. She's definitely waddling now, her biggest pregnancy fear, but she's so stinking cute when she does it.

She wobbles up to me and I try to hold back a laugh. It's the end of October so she's only got a little over a month left in her pregnancy. She's going to be a mommy soon—it still hasn't hit me yet. She tries to give me a hug, but she has to move her stomach to the side so I can get a good grip on her.

"Thank you," she says kindly, tears in her eyes.

"I love you, Brooke. I'm so happy for you." She pulls back and grins, wiping the tears.

"God, I cry all the freaking time!" she complains. "It looks so great! And this cake is totally cute!"

"Yes, very . . . charming," says a voice—nails on a chalkboard.

I should've known better than to allow someone else to be in charge of the invitations. I look to the voice to find Alice scrutinizing the room and eavesdropping on our conversation. I don't know if her comment is genuine or sarcastic, since the girl always comes off as stuck-up, but I assume she's being insincere.

I want to punch the bitch. I don't really have a reason why. . . I just do.

Okay, I do have a reason. I really didn't like the way she looked at Seth the last time I saw her. Does that warrant a punch to her perfectly sculpted nose? _I_ think so, but Brooke and other people in society may not.

"Hi, Josie," she says, smiling at me. Seth's southern accent is sexy. When Brooke's accent comes out, it's cute. But this bitch . . . this bitch's accent makes my ears bleed.

"Hey." I take a step back and try to think of something else I can do instead of staying in this conversation. Brooke is already scarfing down some food, and isn't paying any attention. Alice comes closer to me and gets in my space.

"So . . . Too bad this is an all-girls party. I would have liked to see your sexy friend again." I don't want to girl talk with this person, and I sure as hell don't want her talking to me about my boyfriend.

"I thought you and Blake were together," I say, trying to transfer the conversation somewhere else. If she brings up Seth again, I'm gonna punch her.

"Oh! Sweetheart, Blake and I hook up on and off all the time. Nothing official, don't you worry."

"I'm not," I say honestly. I worry about her sights on my man. "Did you two hook up while he and I were dating?" For the first time in a while I think of Blake, and it's a fleeting realization that I really no longer care about him with other women or with Alice.

I look around the room trying to find something else to do, but everything's perfect and I can't think of an excuse to leave. She looks at me with a knowing glint in her eyes and a smirk playing on her perfectly plump lips. Nothing I wasn't suspicious of before, but it stings a little.

"I guess it doesn't matter about keeping it a secret now that y'all split . . . " She trails off, implication obvious.

"Guess not."

"So . . . ," she starts.

I roll my eyes, knowing this is only going to get worse.

"Your friend, the one Blake was always bitching about, is he single?"

I clench my fist at my side, seconds away from punching her.

"Because he looks like someone I could have fun with, if you know what I mean," she continues, winking at me. Where the hell does this girl get the idea that I want to talk to her? And why the hell is she talking about Seth like that? He's so much more than a goddamn hook-up for a slutty girl. I scrunch my fist tighter wanting to hit her so freaking bad, when I hear the door open and shut loudly. The voice that follows calms my boiling blood and makes me smile.

"Kitty, Kitty! Where are you?" Seth's voice rings out loudly into the room. For once, I don't care about the ridiculous nickname. "I know you're here!" I hear a girl bitch about how there aren't supposed to be any guys here, but he looks at her like she's crazy and continues his search for me. My fist relaxes, and he pushes past someone, getting me in his line of vision. He grins widely and swaggers up to me.

I giggle as he comes and wraps me in his arms, making a show of bending me over and kissing me in front of the room. When he pulls me back up, he picks me up so I'm forced to wrap my legs around him.

"You didn't text me back," he says gruffly. He looks over at Brooke, who is glaring at him, and he gives her a charming smile. "Sorry Brooke, need a minute with my woman. Been too long since I last kissed her."

He carries me back toward the kitchen and backs me up against the wall.

"You just saved me from punching that  girl," I whisper, nodding my head in the direction of where Alice is standing, staring at us with a bewildered and slightly miffed glare.

Seth sneaks a peek and then gives me a cocky half smile. "That annoying bitch? Damn . . . I should have been quieter. What'd she do?" He trails his nose up my neck and into my hair.

"She was asking about you," I say simply.

His head comes up and he grins perceptively. He gets me. I love him so much. He leans in and captures my mouth, pulling my lip between his. His hand cups my face while his mouth shows me that he really has been missing me since he kissed me goodbye this morning. Our tongues melt into each other, and I suddenly wish we were someplace else.

But we're not, which is obvious when I hear a throat clearing loudly next to us.

"Okay, that's enough, Seth. Give me my best friend back," Brooke says, crossing her arms over chest.

"She was my best friend first," he says, putting my feet back on the ground.

I smack his shoulder. "Leave her alone."

"Well, it's true," he mutters. "I was on my way over to hang out with your future hubby, and I needed a Josie fix."

"Well, your future _wifey_ is here for me today, so get goin'," she says pointing to the front door.

"Jeez . . . Pregnant's moodier than PMS. Josie's going to be a raging bitch when she and I have a baby," he jokes, walking up to Brooke and giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. _Wifey? Baby? What the fuck?_

"And I won't help unless you give me my friend back," Brooke says.

"I'm goin'. I'm goin' . . . I love you, Josie Sommers," he says loudly, backing away from me with his arms spread wide. He bumps into Alice and laughs when she stumbles slightly. He looks back at me with exaggerated wide eyes, and I hold back a laugh.

"I love you too, Seth Montgomery!" I holler back.

"Move in with me!" he shouts in the middle of the room.

I walk into the living room and smile at him. Everyone is glaring at his frivolous behavior, but I fall in love with him even more. "Get out!" I say, instead of answering his question.

He stops in his tracks and gives me a mischievous grin. "Not until you agree to move in with me."

"I'm already living with you."

"Make it official, Pussycat. Say yes."

There's no doubt in my mind that I want this man for as long as he will have me. I love him more than I thought I could ever love another person, and I don't relish the thought of living another moment without him. We've wasted too much time as it is. I see the way he looks at me, and I know he feels the same way about me. So I do something I'm not really used to doing. I trust that he and I have what it takes to make it, and I let go of my fears.

"Yes," I answer, grinning at the elated and victorious smile on his face. He glances over at Brooke, who's standing next to me and staring at our exchange with a smile and tears in her eyes. She really _is_ over emotional these days.

"Sorry, Brooke. Just one more kiss," he says, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me with abandon. I giggle against his mouth and feel so much warmth and pleasure pooling in the pit of my stomach, working its way through my veins. "I love you so fucking much, Jos," he says softly and pulls back.

"I love you too, Sethy." I swat his butt and push on his back. "I'll see you later. Go!"

I miss him as soon as he closes that door. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ Everyone goes back to their conversations, and my heart aches. I want to be with him. Brooke wraps her arm around my waist and leans her head against my shoulder.

"You two are good together. I'm sorry I didn't see it at first," she says.

I look at her and raise my eyebrows. "Don't even pretend, Brooke. You're the one who took us to that bar to try to make something happen."

She grins. "Well, it worked . . . ," she says. I laugh and squeeze her. She lowers her voice and tenses for a moment. "Do you know if my mom will be here?"

"Oh, Brooke . . . ," I start. Does it make me a horrible person that I feel the best option is to lie? "You know, I didn't even give Sharron your mom's address for the invitations. It's my fault."

Her shoulders sag and she looks down at her belly. "Oh well. She'd probably tell me I'm getting too fat, anyway."

I wish she was joking. I've heard enough stories to know she's not. Trying to change the subject, I say, "How're you and Brandon doing? How's the wedding planning?"

"It's stressful." She grabs a chair and sits down in it. I sit down next to her. "We bicker all the time, but he loves me. He puts my shoes on for me every day. He gives me baths and paints my nails. He cooks and cleans. He's perfect, and I still bitch at him."

"You're pregnant, Brooke. He understands."

"I know . . . I just feel bad for him, sometimes. Ugh, I can't wait 'til this is over with. I just want my baby here and then I want to get married. I'm half-tempted to elope."

I shrug my shoulders. Not a bad idea. Growing up, I stopped dreaming about having a wedding when I realized it wasn't something I wanted. The thought of getting married when my dads couldn't made me sad. I was content with the idea of just finding someone to fall in love with.

She barks out a laugh and slaps her knee. "Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? I want the whole shenanigan!" I laugh at her word choice, and she joins in. She stops abruptly and holds on to her stomach, eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" I ask, worried. _Please don't have that baby at this baby shower!_ She looks up at me, smiles, and grabs my hand.

"He's kicking really hard. Feel . . . " She places my hand on the side of her stomach and presses on it so I feel my hand pushing against a mass inside of her. The thing pushes back on my hand, and I gasp. "Feel that?" she whispers. She moves my hand to the other side of her stomach where I feel more prodding.

My throat clogs with pain, and my chest heaves, trying to catch a breath. The guilt is overbearing. It makes my heart hurt to feel what my baby would've become if I hadn't terminated the pregnancy.

"Josie," Brooke says in a small voice. "I never told you this, but Brandon and I had a miscarriage a few months before we found out about this baby. When I heard you got an abortion, it devastated me. I was so sad that you would choose not to have a baby when Brandon and I agonized over losing ours." Her hand grabs mine. "I was wrong to judge you for that. I should've _never_ pretended like I knew what was better for you. And I'm so, so, so very sorry."

I refuse to cry. She's asking for forgiveness for something she shouldn't ever apologize for. I assumed she disagreed with me because she was pregnant, but it was so much more than that. She wanted a baby and I gave up the opportunity to have one.

The baby kicks again and my heart lurches. All the progress I've made in the last few weeks with Seth starts to crumble.

_How am I going to survive this day?_  

# Chapter 28

### Seth

I send Brandon a text to let him know I'll be there in five minutes, and then I take off toward his house.

**Brandon: _Go ahead in the house when you get there_**

Excitement makes my legs bounce as I drive. Josie said yes to moving in with me. Maybe it was a little coerced, but I know her well enough to know that she wouldn't have said it if she didn't mean it. She's gaining more confidence in our relationship every day.

I pull into Brandon's driveway and lean my head against the headrest. I had almost given up on the thought of having Josie as mine. I'd begun to think we were never going to get past pretending we were only best friends, but nothing could be better than what I'm feeling right now.

I walk to the front door and get another text from Brandon.

**Brandon: _Wait_ . . . _I'll be there in five. Wait in the car._**

I'm already in the house, so I ignore it, but I soon find out why he was trying to get me to wait. I didn't think anything could ruin my mood, but seeing Blake definitely makes my blood simmer. He looks up from the papers he's holding in his hands, and I see the same hatred I feel for him mirrored back at me.

Fuck this guy.

Blake's been a douche since Josie met him. We were on the same soccer team, but we never talked or paid attention to each other until the night of the party when Josie and Blake talked. The next day at practice, he was a dick from the minute it started. He was captain, so being around him was inevitable, but then he started making me run extra laps and do extra exercises.

Josie seemed to be into him, so I never said anything at first. She deserved to be happy, and at that time, I didn't realize she had feelings for me. I was so fucking stupid. I should've come out with it that summer, but instead I let her go, and she went right into this prick's arms.

It always boggled my mind how Josie could just ignore my clear distaste for the guy. She acted like I felt nothing for her, insinuating that I should try to go sleep with other women and actually feel something. She acted like my heart didn't explode every time she was around, and that she wasn't crushing it by being with another man.

I was devastated—not only over the fact that he wanted my girl, but because he was an asshole. Toward the end of the season, he and Josie had been dating a couple of months, and I was fucking fed up with his bullshit and called him out for it on the field. I hated the way he bragged about her hot body and how he was so close to fucking her, so I went up to him, shoved him, and told him to shut the fuck up. One of the players got in the way before it escalated to more than just shoving, but we made it clear that day that we were never going to be okay.

I tried to stay away. I couldn't handle watching them make out, and Blake knew it. He knew there was something between Josie and me, and he worked hard to steer her attention away from it. On the night of Josie's twenty-first birthday party, he fingered her in the backseat of my truck as a way to get back at me. He couldn't get away with getting in a fist fight with me, because I was his girlfriend's best friend, so he fought by taking the girl he knew I wanted. Her eyes were closed, so she didn't see the sardonic smirk Blake sent my way when he caught me glaring.

Seeing that intimate moment between them broke something in me. I knew where their relationship was going, and my heart hurt. I wanted to strangle him. She seemed more infatuation with the idea of being loved and cared for by someone than actually being _in love_ with him. He was nice to her—he liked her nerdiness and he thought she was pretty. All the things she wanted to feel. I get it, but I hated that she didn't see that I could've offered her more than that.

When my father was admitted to the hospital for a heart attack, I tried to take a chance and kiss her. I wanted her to know I needed her—that she was meant to be with me. But Blake called and broke up the moment, and another slice of my heart fractured. She had reacted and she had wanted me. I saw it in her eyes, but she still fought it.

After clearing her head, she came back with a new wall intact. She wouldn't cheat on her boyfriend, and she wasn't going to break up with him for something she wasn't sure about with me. I couldn't even look at her without feeling pain. My dad almost died, and the girl I wanted officially blocked me out.

When they came to the hospital the next day, I saw a difference in her. She'd done the thing I dreaded most. She told some other guy that she loved him, and she slept with him. I just knew. I know Josie more than she knows herself. And fucking hearing him whisper it to her when I was behind them made my skin crawl. I wanted to fucking murder him.

But Josie looked happy, and that's all I wanted. After they left, I grabbed the first hot nurse I saw and fucked her in the storage closet. It was a way to escape my misery. My chest, heart, and soul agonized too much.

It was nice to have an excuse to stay away from them. I helped my dad a lot, and I focused on working on my career as a photographer. While I wasn't paying attention, her relationship with Blake was getting worse. She was sad that summer, but all I could think about was how she had told another guy that she loved him. That fucking hurt. I wanted her, but I didn't want to be second best.

When she needed me again, a part of me knew I was only going to get hurt. She wasn't coming to me because she realized she loved me. She was coming to me because she wanted to feel loved again. Which I did—I loved her beyond words. She just didn't realize how deep my feelings for her ran. Every kiss and caress made me fall harder. She was it for me. She was the one I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I just knew.

When I took those pictures, I was so wrapped up in the moment, I told her I loved her. She looked like she was about to have a panic attack, and every second she freaked instead of responding was another knife in my heart. I couldn't do it. I couldn't handle the pain in my chest. I reassured her that things would go back to normal, and I left. The last thing I wanted was to lose my best friend because I was in love with her.

We stayed friends, but not a day went by that I didn't think about her being mine. And not a night passed that I didn't wish she was wrapped around me instead of another girl I brought back from a party.

Then that winter Brandon came and told me Blake and Josie had made up. Brandon sympathized with me because he was the only one who knew how I felt about Josie besides Josie's and my parents, and he wanted to make sure I found out from him before Blake started rubbing it in my face.

It didn't matter who I heard it from. I found Blake as soon as I could, and I punched him. He fought back that time, but Brandon grabbed me before I could get anything worse in on him.

"You don't fucking deserve her! Why the fuck are you back?" I spat at him.

"I may not deserve her, but I want her."

"She's more than a piece of fucking property. She's so much fucking more."

He smiled scathingly. "Oh I know. And I also know that she doesn't have those same thoughts about you. She keeps coming back to me for a reason, Seth. Open your damn eyes. She doesn't love you."

"Fuck you." I tried lunging for him again, but Brandon pushed me away. I turned to the side to tear into Brandon too, when Blake came up and punched me in the eye.

Fucking prick bruised my eye. I couldn't be around Josie for a week after. I didn't want her to worry about me getting in fights, so I fumed for days. I wanted to ruin him. Josie's not the type of girl to listen to bullshit without evidence. She wouldn't believe me if I came to her and told her about him. I made my disdain clear, but she still stayed with him.

When he walked in on me kissing Josie all over her face after I told her I'd gotten a showcase in the art gallery, I could feel his anger from across the room. And I loved every fucking second of it. It may have been the first time in a while that he realized he had something to worry about.

And I thought maybe I still had a chance. Just _maybe_ I could find a way to tell Josie that I was madly in love with her, and she would let go of the meaningless relationship she had with Blake. But it didn't end that way. The night of my showcase, she chose Blake. Said she loved _him_.

I fucking hate the guy.

***

"What are you doing here?" he asks, clenching his jaw.

"Waiting for Brandon." I stand on the opposite side of the room, cross my arms, and glare at him. Figures he'd come around and ruin my mood.

"Okay." He nods, and looks back down at his papers. "How's Josie?"

I grit my teeth, not liking her name coming out of his mouth at all.

"Happy." He looks up, but doesn't give anything away in his expression. "You don't get to ask questions about her," I continue. "You've got everyone tricked around here. They all think you were a drunken idiot that night, spilling out Josie's personal business like that. But you don't have me fooled."

He sits back in his chair, and I see his mouth twitch. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I fucking know how you work. You're calm and calculating, you don't just fly off the handle like that. That was all a ploy to hurt her. So you don't get to sit there and act like you care how she's doing, because we both know you're hoping she's hurting."

He gets up out of his chair and stands in the middle of the room, veins bulging in his neck.

"You don't think I have a right to be mad? To want her to hurt?"

"No, I don't think you do. There's never a reason to call her names or announce to a room of people that she had an abortion. You're a fucking dick."

"Careful, Seth. You're lucky I didn't call the cops on you that night."

 I walk closer to him, anger motivating every step. "I would _love_ to go to jail with your blood on my hands. But you didn't call the cops because you know you deserved it. That's another thing. You act like you're the goddamn victim, but we both know that you deserved every ounce of blood I made you bleed."

"She killed my child, she deserved it."

"She killed nothing!" I bellow. I'm sick of hearing those words come from her mouth, and I sure as hell won't listen to him accuse her of that.

"You don't get it because she didn't take away your child. She took away mine! She was selfish."

"You need to stop talking about her right now, or this is going to be a repeat of last time." He's pissing me the fuck off.

He smirks again and cocks his head to the side. "How's it feel to get my sloppy seconds?" he asks, mockingly.

"I had her first, so I think you've got that wrong." I take another foreboding step toward him, and he takes a step back.

"Yeah, but she didn't choose you. She chose me. Do you like that you'll always be second best?" He lets out a humorless laugh as fires burns inside my blood. "It was funny, because I knew you put those pictures up on purpose, and you really thought she would pick you."

I hadn't cared if he recognized Josie in the pictures or not. He would either keep quiet about it and fume over the fact that I had been with his girl, or he would confront her and make her choose. I thought she would want me.

"I let you have her. I chose to let her try to be happy and I let her go." Yeah, I was fucking hurt and devastated and heartbroken, but I couldn't be around her after that. "I even texted you to go get her after I left so she wasn't alone. I let you have her! And you fucking hurt her!" My fists clench as the anger comes rushing back.

He's got a smug look on his face, showing no remorse or sympathy for her or my pain. "Yes, you did leave. You can thank me for that position in Europe. It's been very beneficial to have contacts all around the globe," he says.

I don't let him in on my surprise. He thinks he'll win this showdown. I smile back at him. "Sure! Thank you, Blake, for setting me up with a career to take care of Josie for the rest of my life." A tick in his jaw. Finally got to him. "And while we're talking about that, let's bring up all these other great things I have going for me and Josie."  I continue to walk toward him, while he walks back. He's an inch taller than me and broader, but he knows I can take him. "Why'd you work so hard to get me away in the first place, Blake? Josie told me how you two didn't live with each other. You only came by a few days a week to stay with her, even though you worked only thirty minutes away . . . Why not stay with her every night?"

I see another tick, and I know my suspicion is right. "Whose name does she call for when she sleeps? When she has a bad dream? When she whispers sweetly in her sleep? Who does she cry for? I've been sleeping with her since we were kids, and there's only one name she says in her sleep . . . _Mine_." He makes a fist at his side, and I know I've hit the nail on the head. "Must've been hard to constantly be reminded of who she really wanted every night, huh?"

"She always fucking wanted you. I never understood her fascination. I did everything right for her and she still wanted you," he says, irritation clear in his voice.

"I felt the same way about you." My phone vibrates in my pocket and I grab it, smiling when I see the message, and my anger dissolves into calmness. "You want to know how Josie is, Blake? When I say happy, that's putting it mildly. I've never seen her this happy. She trembles with need before I even touch her. She smiles every time she looks at me." I lean against the back of the couch and take delight in the fact that Josie's better with me than she was with him. I see his pain in his eyes, darkening with each sentence.

"When I hold her before she falls asleep, she tells me she loves me, and it's the most incredible thing to hear. I never take it for granted. When I make love to her softly and sweetly, she always has tears in her eyes, and tells me over and over that she's so in love with me." I pause.

"Oh, and you have no idea how good it feels to hear her constantly tell me that I'm the best she's ever had. That I make her body feel things she's never felt. That when I make love to her, every time is her new favorite. And just now? She texted me and told me that she wants me to do what I did last night to her again when she gets home—to our place, because she agreed to move in with me."

My phone buzzes again with another text. I smile bigger, knowing this will help with the last blow to this asshole's ego. "And this text she just sent me? She said she never thought she could love anyone as much as she loves me. That she would never be able to go the rest of her life without loving me. . . So sweet." I mutter the last part and text her back. I tell her I love her and I'll make her feel all sorts of good when she gets home.

I look back up at Blake and see him trying to keep his composure together. "So you see, Blake, she was never yours. She never chose you. You never even had a shot with her, because you couldn't love her the way I do, and she couldn't love you with the same depth as she loves me. It was never going to happen for you."

He lunges for me, no longer able to keep it together, and shoves me backward. This is the Blake that Josie doesn't know about, the side of himself he only showed me because he knows I'm a threat. I lose my balance for a second and get back up to go after him.

"Five fucking minutes, Seth! That's all you had to wait!" Brandon yells, shoving Blake back and out of my reach.

"I'll fucking ruin you guys," Blake threatens darkly.

"Give it your best! Josie and I have something stronger than what you can do to us." I don't back away from his challenging look. Finally, he breaks eye contact, grabs his papers, and walks out the back door.

Brandon waits until we're in his car before he asks about what happened. "What the hell did you say to him? He was pissed!" He backs out of the driveway and heads to town.

"Just explained how much of a jackass he is . . . and informed him of how much happier Jos is with me than she was with him." I shrug my shoulders and look out the window. I feel him look at me, but I don't look back.

"She is, though," he says. "Look, he's my brother and I love him, but you're my best friend. I've seen her with you. When we all went out to dinner last week, I've never seen her like that before. It was like she no longer carried all the weight of the world on her shoulders. She looks freer. Blake will get over it. He's not going to do anything."

I'm glad someone else sees that she's happy, so I know I'm not delusional. But I don't believe for one second that Blake will leave us alone. I have no doubt he'll try to bring us down. It's just a matter of when and how. 

# Chapter 29

### Seth

"Who the fuck knew putting a crib together would be this difficult?" I ask, tightening the last bolt.

Brandon wanted me to come over and help him set up the nursery while Brooke had her baby shower― he's hoping to surprise her when she gets home. The room was already painted green, so all we  had to do was put up the wall decals and put together all the furniture. Brandon ordered a nursery set that Brooke had her eyes on, and we were able to pick them up today.

I get up and look around the room, impressed with our work.

"Well, if the instructions weren't in French then maybe it would've been easier," Brandon says, putting some baby clothes in the dresser.

"Don't get furniture they only make in France next time."

"Brooke wanted it, and I wanted her to be happy."

I move the rocking chair next to the crib and put this cute stuffed frog in the seat.

"Thanks for helping me out, man," he says, patting me on the back as we both survey the room. Brooke will probably cry when she sees it. She cried at dinner a week ago when the waiter got her some extra bread.

"No problem. I'm here for you whenever you need me." I grip the edge of the crib and peek inside. "Is it bad that I totally want to hop in here and take a nap?"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't ruin it before the kid gets here."

"I bet the kid wouldn't mind. When he gets here, I'm gonna come over and take naps with him."

Brandon chuckles and sits in the rocking chair, squishing Mr. Froggy. I liked that frog.

"Speaking of the baby, I wanted to ask you something," Brandon says, stuffing his hands in his shorts and shaking his head to get his dark brown hair out of his eyes.

I lean against the crib and look at him. "Go for it."

"I was wondering if you'd be cool with being the godfather."

I grin broadly. "Yeah? For real?"

"Yeah . . . You and Josie would be perfect godparents. We both trust that you two would love and take care of our kid if anything happened to us."

This is totally a big fucking deal, being asked to be the godparents of another human being―to give Brooke and Brandon full confidence that their child will be taken care of if anything were to happen to them.

"Thanks, man. I'd fucking love to. I'll teach him how to unhook a bra in one second flat."

"See, that's why I knew you'd be perfect . . ." He pauses and scrunches his brows.  "But actually that's the same reason Brooke wasn't sure at first."

"She'll get over it . . . So, Josie and me as godparents . . . " I smile wistfully, thinking about the future that sentence holds. I'd love to have a family with Jos, so this might be a good way to ease her into the idea. "When are y'all telling Jos?"

"Brooke's telling her today at the shower," he looks at his watch. "Which should be about over now."

"Wait. She's telling her today? At a baby shower?"

"Yeah . . . ," Brandon says hesitantly.

"Fuck," I curse under my breath. That's not a good idea. "I need to go."

"What's wrong?"

I pick up my jacket off the floor and jog down the stairs. "I need to get there before she asks Josie." I turn around and put my jacket on. "The answer will be yes, so if something happens and Brooke comes home upset, just know that Josie's scared. I'll text you tomorrow."

I run to my car and speed over to Brooke's friend's house. I could see what planning this baby shower was doing to Josie. I would catch her looking at the decorations, guilt and sorrow in her eyes, and once I even saw a tear fall when she looked at the sonogram she framed for Brooke. It's been hard on her to see what she could have had. When I pull up to the house, I jog to the front door and walk in, looking for her immediately. I see Brooke talking to one of her friends. The place is almost empty, so the party must be over.

"Brooke . . . ," I call to her. She turns around and starts in my direction. I walk back outside and wait for her to waddle to me.

"Seth! She left. She freaked out and left. I don't even know what I did. We finished playing that poopy diaper game, and I asked her to be the godmother to our baby, and she said she couldn't breathe and she left." Brooke's on the verge of tears, and the friend part of me wants to comfort her, but the majority of me needs to find Josie and make sure she's okay.

I give Brooke a quick side hug. "Today just wasn't the right day to ask, Brooke. I'll find her and talk to her." As I walk to my truck, I try to call Josie, but it keeps going straight to voicemail. I call my mom and ask if she's home, but she's not there. I call her dad and ask if she's there, but she's not. I slam my fist against the steering wheel and try to think.

Her apartment! I'm a fucking idiot. I press harder on the gas and rush over to her place. Ever since she's been staying with me, she's only been there once to get more clothes, so it didn't click at first that she might be there now. I run up her stairs and try the knob on the door. She must've been really upset because she didn't lock it. I walk in and start toward her room.

"It's me, Pussycat." I don't want her freaking out that a stranger may have just come into her house.

I walk into her room and see her curled in a fetal position, rocking while she cries. My chest aches and my throat feels like someone just stabbed it with a hundred needles. "Oh, baby . . . ," I say gently, getting on the bed and pulling her into me. I brush her hair back and rub her arms.

"It's okay, Jos . . . I've got you." Her crying gets softer as I whisper to her and hold her tight. I'm angry and devastated. I don't know how to fucking help her! She suffers any time there's mention of a baby, and I don't know how to make it better for her. "I'm so sorry, Josie. I want to take away all the pain, but I don't know how."

I lean down and kiss every stray tear I see on her face, wanting more than anything to wipe away her pain. "You can't," she whispers, choked with sadness. "I'm so sorry, Seth. I'm a fucking mess. You deserve so much better than me."

"Stop, Jos. Don't do that again. I'll take you fucked up any day over not having you at all."

"She wants me to be a godmother to her baby. That sweet baby . . . I felt him kick today and it was so precious . . . Why would she trust me with that?"

"Because she loves you, and she knows you'll make a great mom one day. It's the same thing I see in you, Jos."

"But after everything I did―"

"Stop it, Josie! It's done. You can't take it back. That doesn't make you a bad person, it makes you fucking human. That's not a reflection on how great of a mom you'll be. That's _absolutely_ not a reflection on your competence to take care of and love your best friend's child."

"I feel so much guilt, Sethy." Her voice is small and filled with broken sobs.

"Get rid of it. Give it to me. I'll take whatever burdens you have. Just _please_ try to get past this." I pull myself over her and caress her cheek in my hand. "You have such a beautiful heart and soul, Jos. You are so much more than one thing you did. You are gorgeous. Smart as hell. Tougher than any person I've ever met. You suck at the monkey bars, but you're still pretty cool for a girl. And I love you more than you will ever be able to comprehend. You're more than this, Jos, and everyone sees it but you."

"I don't want to disappoint you," she says sadly, closing her eyes and turning into my hand.

"Stop worrying about that so much, and just let go." I lean down and kiss her lips, wet and swollen from crying. I pull back and tell her emphatically and softly, "I'll love you forever, Pussycat. I'll love you when I'm dead and gone. I'll love you through every life I live after this one. I'll love you every second I have left to live, and I won't regret one single moment of loving you. I'll choose you over and over again, because I can't and _won't_ get over this feeling. You'll probably piss me off some days and I'll probably annoy the hell out of you other days, but nothing will change the fact that I am madly in love with you, Jos."

She doesn't say anything, and I don't need her to. The way she looks at me is enough. She's never been good at expressing how she feels, but I know with one look exactly what she's thinking. She reaches up to touch my face and brings her face up so she's kissing me. She kisses me softly and the way her lips touch mine says everything I need to hear without the words.

"I'm so madly in love with you," she whispers. I capture her lips again and kiss her harder. I run my hands up her sides and then run them over her stomach.

"I can't take back the abortion for you, Pussycat, but I sure as hell can help make a whole lot of new babies with you," I say hoarsely, kissing my way down her neck. I look up and see a smile on her lips.

She's getting there.

I make love to her slowly, taking my time showing her that I love her and that she's perfect to me. I show her with every kiss that she's worthy of the love of her friends and me, and I try to push away the last of the guilt that she's been carrying. I thrust into her headily but slowly, enjoying every inch that enters her. Her hands grip my back, and I keep my hands in her hair, leaning my forehead against hers. She whimpers every time I slide out, and lets out a cry when I push myself back.

Tears well in her eyes. She sees me. She knows what I'm trying to show her. My lips stay on her body, alternating between kissing and breathing her in.

"I'm going to come, Jos. I need you . . . I can't do it without you, too." I kiss the tear that falls as she looks at me.

"I love you, Seth." She tells me what I need to hear without me asking.

I need her to never forget those words and that she means them. But I need them, too. I need to know this is real. She closes her eyes briefly, and I feel her nails bite into my back. I moan and thrust into her harder. She cries out and shudders under me. I push into her a couple more times before I fill her with my come, holding her face and kissing her heatedly.

"I was wrong," she admits quietly a few minutes later while I hold her, both of us trying to recover from the fervent passion we just experienced.

"'Bout what, pretty girl?"

"I said you can't take the pain away, but you did. You do it every day, but this time it feels different. I feel like I can move on," she says, turning in my arms and looking at me. "I mean, I know the guilt's not completely gone, but I feel so much better. I feel like we can get through anything. I feel lighter when I'm with you. And most of all I feel loved, and I feel _worthy_ of your love. That's something I thought would be impossible a month ago."

"I love you, Jos. And I _know_ we can get through anything."

We'll have to.

# Chapter 30

### Josie

"Pussycat ," Seth whispers, lips grazing my jaw. I groan, not wanting to wake up. "Come on, pretty girl . . . Wake up." I feel a rough hand slide up my bare back, making me shiver and grin.

"Why?" I whine, hiding my smile in the bed. I'm not ready to open my eyes yet.

"I wanna take you somewhere," Seth tells me, his breath hitting my shoulder.

"Is it romantic?"

"I don't do romantic, Jos. You're my first girlfriend . . . "

"Doesn't mean you can't be romantic with me," I mumble.

Seth's hand tugs my hair playfully, and he kisses my back. "It's not romantic, but it'll be fun. Come on." He spanks my butt lightly, and I feel the bed move as he gets up.

I groan again and take a few minutes before I force my eyes open. We must've fallen asleep after we had sex. It's dark outside, so it's been a couple hours. "What should I wear?" I ask, finally rolling over and pulling myself up.

"Sweatshirt."

I stick my tongue out and make a face behind his back as he puts on his shoes.

"And I know you're making faces, so you better stop before I punish you for it later."

"Ugh!" I know exactly how he thinks he'll punish me, but he never comes without letting me get off, too. "That threat is getting old."

"Watch it, Pussycat," he warns, turning around and smiling at me. When he sees me still not getting dressed he scowls. "Get dressed!"

I groan and flop back down on the bed. I just want to go back to sleep. I feel my leg being pulled, and look up to find Seth trying to put on my jeans for me. I giggle and let him continue his task with no help from me.

He pulls them up to my thighs and tickles my side until I move my butt so he can get them the rest of the way up. He buttons and zips them, placing a kiss on the birthmark on my hip before grabbing a sports bra and shirt. He tugs on my arm and pulls me up. He pushes my arms and head through the bra, kissing each of my breasts before he pulls it down. The shirt follows next, and I'm officially dressed.

"You forgot my shoes," I tease, wiggling my toes in his direction. He chuckles softly and leans in for a quick kiss. He goes to my dresser and grabs a pair of bright green socks and a pair of tennis shoes.

"Not kissing these bad boys," he says with a playful grin, crouching in front of me. He puts my socks and shoes on and stands back up. "Okay . . . No more excuses. Come on."

I get off the bed and stomp to my closet to grab a sweatshirt. "Stop pouting, Jos. I did all the work . . . as usual."

I gasp and glare at him after I pull the hoodie over my head. "That was mean!"

He comes up to me and lifts me off my feet. "It's not mean. I love doing all the work." I wrap my arms around his neck and let him kiss me while walking me through the door. He locks it behind us before picking me up again and carrying me to his truck.

We drive for about ten minutes before we pull into an empty parking lot at the community park. Unlike Seneca Park, Great Junction Park is catered toward kids and extracurricular activities. They have skate ramps, fishing ponds, and a big-ass playground. I turn in my seat and give Seth questioning look. "What are we doing?"

"Okay. So they tore down the playground we met on, so we couldn't go there, but I thought I'd take you here, instead. Have you seen this playground? It's fucking badass."

"It's closed!" I exclaim, laughing.

"Yeah I know, so we gotta be quiet. We're gonna sneak in."

He gets out of the truck before I can tell him that he's crazy, and he comes over to my side to help me out. "Don't look so scared, Pussycat. No one's checking to see if people are coming here after the park closes."

Oh, what the hell . . . Seth makes me feel alive again, so I shrug and get out of the truck. He takes my hand and grins roguishly as we rush toward the fence and try to be quiet at the same time. He lets go of my hand and jumps over it easily. I climb up and Seth grabs my waist to help me get down. He grins when my feet hit the ground, and he pushes my errant hair out of my face. "Look at you. Sexiest criminal I know."

I flick my hair off my shoulder and flutter my eyelashes.

He grins wider and pulls me in for a kiss. When he pulls away, I'm left breathless while he looks unaffected. I turn and look at the playground, and I'm shocked. "Wow," I breathe out. It's huge! There's a pirate-and-skull theme, but it really looks like it was made for adults. There are slides, monkey bars, jungle gyms, a rock climbing wall, a dirt pit with pretend pirate ships inside of it, and tunnels running throughout the space. "This really is badass."

"Told you . . . I'll race you down those slides." He gives me a challenging look, and I meet it with one of my own.

"You're on." The slides are so tall, I don't know how kids aren't terrified when they come here. Two slides meant for racing sit at the very top, so we both rush up the steps.

"Okay. On three," Seth says, sitting at the top of the slide. I sit down, pull my hair up, and tie it in a messy bun.

"Okay."

"One. Two―"

I shoot down the slide as soon as "two" leaves his mouth, laughing as he calls me a cheater. He still almost beats me to the bottom, but I make it first and run away as soon as I get off. He chases me, grabbing the back of my hoodie to stop me.

"You're such a cheater!"

"I wasn't sure if you meant on three or after three," I say innocently.

He leans his head back and lets out a loud laugh.

" _And_ you're a liar! You're on a roll, Jos . . . Rematch, and no cheating this time."

I laugh the whole way up the stairs while Seth smacks my butt on each step.

We sit down and Seth starts his countdown again.

"One. Two―"

I push myself down on "two" again, cracking up laughing as I go, but Seth must've known I was going to do it again because he shoots off at the same moment. He beats me to the bottom this time, so as soon as I stop sliding, I turn around and try to climb back up the slide.

"No way, pretty girl," Seth says, climbing up behind me and pulling me back.

"You left at two, too!" I squeal. He throws me over his shoulder and squeezes my butt.

"Yeah, because I knew you were a liar and cheater. I saw your hand twitching as soon as I said _one._ '"

"Damn my hands," I mutter. I reach down Seth's back as he carries me to the other side of the playground, and I try to reach into his pants. I get a hold on his boxers and start pulling them up, giggling as he flings me off of him.

"Oh my fucking god, Jos. You are _asking_ for it."

I widen my eyes and pretend to look terrified. He narrows his eyes, and I'm off running in a flash. I swerve through the large playground, but Seth's too quick for me. I'm almost trapped, so I start for the rock climbing wall. I try to climb up, and I notice that Seth slows his pace and crosses his arms to watch me. There's a tiny grin on his face, but I ignore the sarcastic look and keep trying to climb over the wall. I lose my footing on the second rock up, and fall one foot back to the ground.

I look up to a laughing Seth and pout. "That didn't work at all."

"I know, Pussycat. It's okay," he says, comforting me by wrapping an arm around me. "I think it's safe to say that bringing you here to try and redeem yourself on those monkey bars is useless."

"I wanna see you do them," I say bumping my hip into his side.

"You think I can't?"

"I think you're a pussy," I say indifferently, with a shrug. Of course, Seth remembers that day when we were six that I called him a pussy after he made fun of me for falling off the monkey bars.

"I'm not the sissy who fell off the monkey bars halfway across."

"Remember the last time you called me a sissy, Seth?"

"Yeah, you punched me."

"Don't think I won't do it again."

"I have no doubt that you would, Jos." He laughs, and goes to the monkey bars to show me that he can do it easily, and within a couple of seconds.

"Go again," I tell him. As soon as he starts his way across, I lift up my hoodie and shirt, exposing my stomach, stopping right before I reach my boobs. He stops halfway across, gets off, and grabs me. He pulls my shirt back down but keeps his hands on my bare skin.

"What the hell are you doin'?" he asks, eyes tracing my lips. "What if someone's around watching you?"

"You suck at the monkey bars . . . Couldn't even make it halfway," I say breathlessly. I was trying to tease him, but the hungry look in his eyes is making my insides greedy for him.

"What the fuck do I care about monkey bars when my girl is getting naked in front of me?" he asks huskily, sliding his hand under my sports bra. His thumb grazes my nipple and then he pinches it. I moan and lean into him. He smiles at my reaction, but he pulls away too quickly. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the swings. We swing in silence for a couple of minutes, enjoying the moments that we can pretend like there are no other concerns in the world.

"I talked to Blake today," he says finally, getting off the swing and standing behind me to push me.

My heart squeezes, worried about how that must have went down. "What happened?" _Did you get in a fight_ , is what I really want to ask.

"I told him about how happy you are with me." I bite back a smile and shake my head.

"Trying to stir the pot?"

"Jos, he's an asshole. I wasn't stirring shit; he needed to know you're not going to let him affect you."

"Why do you hate him so much? And I don't just mean because of what he said to me last time. I mean, you've always hated him. Even when he was good to me."

Seth grabs the chains on my swing and stops it, then moves in front of me and kneels.

"Blake's always been an asshole—he just never showed his true colors to you until the party. And as much as he wanted to make it look like he was drunk as hell that night, I saw it in his eyes when I was punching him―he knew exactly what he was doing. He's manipulative, and I hate him." He pauses and breathes hard, eyebrows drawn down in thought. "A part of my initial distaste for him was due to the fact that he wanted you―the one girl I wanted. But then I found out how much of a dick he is, and it made it impossible for me to ever get on good terms with him." He takes some hair that's fallen out of my bun and pushes it behind my ear.

"But most of all, I hate him for trying to get back with you. Your dad died a week before he came back, and he tried to convince you to get back together with him hours after his funeral. That's fucking bullshit. He knew you'd be the most vulnerable at that time, probably starving for someone to hold you, and he used that to his advantage. I don't know how it all went down, but I have no doubt he had already made plans to stay here and try to get you back. It's disrespectful and disgusting."

I never looked at it like that. I _was_ deprived for attention. Seth was gone. Daddy died, and he was the one who usually comforted me when I was sad. Dad was lost in a dark world I couldn't let myself get dragged into, because it would ruin the strong front I'd been trying to keep intact. And then Blake came around, offering to love me when I felt my loneliest.

"Wow . . . ," I say quietly. I don't think Seth's telling me every reason why he hates Blake, but his answer is good enough for me. "How did I never see that before?"

Seth's hand cups my cheek and he kisses the corner of my mouth. "You just wanted someone to love you, Jos. I shouldn't have hidden what I felt for so long, and then we wouldn't have to be going through all these problems with him." I love how the simple word "we" comforts me on so many levels. Seth sits down in the mulch and pushes on my knees to rock me on the swing. "Anyway . . . There's something I wanted to tell you about what he said. I don't want him to bring it up to you and make you think I wasn't honest with you."

I nod for him to continue.

"I knew Blake would recognize you in those pictures I showed at the gallery. I mean, I didn't know about the ring, but if he was having sex with you as much as he hinted, then I knew he would know it was your body I was loving on."

I stare at him for a few seconds, and then crack a smile. "You're such a cocky bastard, Seth."

He laughs lightly and relaxes at my reaction. "I thought if you saw how good we looked in the pictures and then heard how madly in love I was with you, then you would want me. That you would choose me . . . "

My heart churns at his words.  That's not what happened at all. I didn't fall into his arms like he had hoped, even though I wanted to and should have. Instead, I chose someone else.

"I shouldn't have left you there," he continues. "And I sure as hell shouldn't have let him come back and be the one to take care of you. He ever tell you why he came back that night?"

I shake my head, confused. "We never talked about that night. We never talked about you at all."

"I told him to go get you and make sure you were okay. I told him that I was stepping back and would let you be happy. That he won. Biggest fucking mistake of my life. _I_ should have come back for you."

"Really?" I ask, shocked. I thought Blake had never brought it up because he was being respectful of my pain. I thought he came back because he realized he shouldn't have walked away. I hold on to the hand Seth has on my knee. "You're back now, and that's all that matters. And I've never been happier."

He smiles broadly. "Right! That's what I told him, too. And I may have mentioned that you think I'm much better in bed than him."

"Look at you being all mature," I say with a sarcastic smile. "You even made love to me in my bed."

"What can I say? You're making an honest man outta me."

"You really are the best . . . in bed that is."

He winks at me and leans up to grab my hips. "I'm the best at a lot of things."

"I know you are . . . Best friend," I kiss his cheek. "Best kisser." I kiss his lips. "Best boyfriend." I slip my tongue in his mouth. "Best listener and comforter." I pull his top lip into my mouth. "Best looking." I suck on his lip. "Best at monkey bars." I nibble on it. "Best lover." I move to his bottom lip. "You're the best person I've ever known," I whisper. I kiss him hard, loving the moan he releases and the way his hands grip my waist firmly.

For Seth, I know these words mean the world. For someone who has lived his life dreading the darkness that calls to him, my love brings him self-worth and stability. It eases his guilt. It calms the anger. It chases away the depression. The fact that I love him has changed his outlook on life—made him stop hating himself so much. I'm scared to think what would happen if anything ever happened to me again.

He pulls me off the swing and makes me straddle him on the ground. He grips my hair in one hand, and the other slides under my shirt. I hold on to the back of his neck, keeping him against me. I don't know how long we make out, but it's long―or short―enough for me to get wet and needy for him.

We hear something zooming toward the park, and we both break apart, looking for the source of the sound.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he whispers, surprise in his voice. He shoots me a devil-may-care grin and breathes out a laugh. Quietly he tells me, "Don't freak, but someone is seriously patrolling in a golf cart."

"What?" I blurt a tad too loudly, looking for the cart to see how much time we have to get out of here.

"Shhh . . . Come on." He gets up and pulls me up. He zigzags through the fixture in the middle of the playground, weaving around in the dark so we don't get caught. "I don't want him to see the truck . . . " He looks at me seriously. "Okay, Jos, this is a real life mission. No more practicing, this is the real deal. We need to run back to the truck, but we can't get caught. Do you accept this mission? Or do you want to sleep in this tube for the rest of the night?"

"I can do it . . . but if you get me fired for getting arrested, I'm gonna kill you."

"Don't worry, baby. We can change our names and run away together, and you can be whatever you want. I have connections."

I cover my mouth to hold in my laugh and squeeze my eyes shut. He's crazy. He kisses my forehead and takes me to the back corner of the playground.

"Okay . . . See those trees? We're gonna run through them and go to the truck."

"Easy as pie," I say, nodding my head.

"Try not to fall though." He laughs at my glare and gives me a lift up and over the fence. He hops over after me, and we dart through the trees.

We run for a minute until the guard starts in our direction, and Seth quickly grabs me and pulls me under the dark shadows behind a tree, pushing me up against it to shield me from view. The bark bites through my sweatshirt and Seth looks down at me with a knowing smirk playing on his lips. My heart races as images of our previous rendezvous against a tree flash through my thoughts. Seth's heavy breaths fan my face as his eyes land on my mouth. I suck in a breath when he leans down and kisses me softly, sensually, and long enough that I forget that we could easily get caught.

Luckily, Seth can double task and notices the security guard turning around and heading to the opposite side of the playground, apparently missing Seth's blue truck hidden in the shadows of nearby trees. Then we're off again and running to the back of the parking lot until we reach Seth's truck.

"Get in," he says, opening my door quickly and picking me up to sit me in the truck. He hops in on his side and starts the engine, roaring out of the parking lot before the guy in the golf cart can see his license plate.

I look behind us and notice the security guard in the middle of the lot, giving up on chasing us. I let out a relieved breath and lean back in my seat. That was fun.

"See, told you it wouldn't be romantic . . . but it was fun, right?" he says, grinning and glancing over at me.

"I love you so fucking much, Seth."

I go to bed feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, wrapped in the arms of the man I trust and love with every thread of my being. I decide to follow Seth's suggestion, and I change the pictures of my nightmares into something I love more. I keep the images of Seth and me under the stars, kissing and vowing to love each other for the rest of our lives. I change Michael choking me into Daddy giving me a hug. And instead of Blake looking at me angrily in the middle of the cemetery, I'm standing across from Brooke and Brandon and their newborn baby, who I love so much my chest tightens with affection.

And I don't scream in my sleep tonight . . . I smile, calling to Seth in love instead of fear.

# December

# Chapter 31

### Josie

I release a long sigh, lean back in my chair at my desk, and open my Kindle so I can start reading.

The kids are extra crazy this month since winter break is in a little over a week, so I take every free period I have to read. I can't wait until break either, because Seth and I will finally start looking for our first home together. I could also use some relaxation . . . and a twenty-four-hour day in bed with my man.

I've finally gotten into the book when I hear my classroom door open. I groan in my head before looking up from my reading. Forty-five minutes. That's all I get alone, and these people always want to chitchat. I plaster a smile on my face and look up to see Seth leaning against the wall, smiling at me.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" I ask, getting excited. Three months we've been together officially, and I still get excited every time I see him.

"I have a reason, but I forgot."

I feel my body heat up under his gaze, and I squeeze my legs together in an attempt to calm the passion he makes me feel.

He stalks to my desk, places both hands on it, and leans forward. "Open your legs," he whispers. I glance at the door to make sure it's closed, and then spread my legs open for him, loving the dark look in his blue-green eyes. I'm wearing a knee length black skirt and a navy blue sweater. He moans, his gaze gliding up my thighs to the pink panties I know he sees. He grabs an extra chair and pulls it up to me.

He touches my reading glasses and his lips quirk slightly. "It's these glasses, I'm telling you, Jos. I get a hard-on every single time you wear them."

"You get a hard-on every time we're in the same room," I tease.

"True . . . But there's still something so sexy about those glasses. I mean, I'm in a fucking elementary school and all I can think of is fucking the hell out of you across this desk." His hand slides up my thigh and plays with the fabric of my panties. He slips them under the cloth and inside of my already wet pussy.

"Holy fuck," I breathe out, closing my eyes. I need to stop him. Everything in my mind is telling me to stop him. I'm in school, where I work with kids, and I'm letting my boyfriend finger me behind my desk. I lean my head against his shoulder and bite him when his thumb presses on my clit.

"You gotta stop, Seth . . . ," I say raggedly.

"No," he says huskily, his face in my neck, kissing me. "Come for me." _Oh my god_ . . . _sexiest man on earth!_

I tighten my grip on his arms as he speeds up his movements inside of me. "Ride my fingers, Jos." I listen and start moving my hips against his hand, the pressure on my clit getting more intense and making me throb harder. I let out a small cry, shocked, thrilled, and beyond turned on by what he's doing. He moans when he sees the goose bumps on my collarbone, and his tongue follows them across my chest. His hot tongue on my skin makes me grind harder on his fingers.

"That's it, baby . . . Let go." His lust is palpable in his voice. In the way his fingers run over my slick flesh. In the way his cock gets so hard I see the outline through his jeans. I put my palm over it and rub him while I get off on his fingers. My thighs snap together quickly when the throbbing reaches its ultimate limit, and I shudder and groan as I come. I bite his shoulder, trying to hold back the moans I want to let out.

I can't believe he just finger-fucked me in school.

When I finally calm down, I relax against him. "If you gripped my dick any harder, I think it would've exploded," he teases, kissing the top of my head.

"I can't believe you just did that. What if someone walked in?"

 He gets up and pulls me up with him. "I locked the door when I shut it, and you have those posters over the window. We were good. I've always got you, Pussycat." He kisses me passionately, breathing roughly when we finally pull apart.

I touch my lips and savor the tingling sensations that he leaves behind. "So what's up . . . Why are you here?" I ask, leaning against my desk.

"Oh, shit! We have to go." He tugs on my arms and heads toward the door.

I pull away and put my hand on my hip. "I can't just leave, what's going on?"

"Come on, Jos! I already got you covered with the principal. Grab your shit and let's go."

"Seth!"

He sighs overdramatically and then flashes me a grin, so pretty on his handsome face. "We're gonna officially be godparents. Brooke's at the hospital."

I squeal, do a little happy dance to my desk, and grab my belongings. I wasn't expecting her to have the baby for another week. Excitement thrums inside me. I check in with the office to make sure it's okay to leave, and they confirm that Seth already worked it out with them.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me as soon as you walked in. What if we miss the baby being born?" I chastise him as we walk out the front doors.

"We won't miss anything. Brandon told me it could take hours before she even has the kid."

We start toward his truck, but I stop. "Wait. I want to grab something from my car," I say and start walking in the opposite direction.

"Ugh, Jos . . . ," Seth grumbles, following me to my car. I grab my CD and we head back to his vehicle.

"Pussycat, I am _not_ listening to that on the ride there."

We get into the truck and I take the CD out of the case. "Too bad . . . We made a compromise. I would hold off on listening to Christmas music until December first and you would let me listen to it anytime I wanted until December twenty-fifth. That was the deal. So I get to listen to my favorite Christmas album." I put it in the player, sit back, and smile at his pained expression.

"It's not like you play a bunch of different Christmas music, Jos. You play this same CD over and fucking over again. Drives me nuts."

"Justin Bieber has the voice of an angel, Seth . . . I love this CD, and you love me, so you have to listen to it." He groans and starts the engine, Justin Bieber's voice filling the cab with his Christmas tunes.

"If I drive this car off a cliff on the way there, don't act surprised when we see each other in Paradise." I laugh and hit his arm. He pulls up to the stop sign before leaving the parking lot, and then he takes my hand in his, looking at me with a sweet smile.

"Ready to go meet our godbaby?"

I grin back. "Absolutely."

When we get to the hospital about forty minutes later, I'm so nervous and excited. Seth grabs my hands when we get out of the car and stops me from walking ahead.

"Can you do me a favor?" he asks, turning his head and pointing to his ear. "Can you check to see if the bleeding in my ear is as bad as it feels?"

"Shut up, Seth!" I shove him away, but he comes back chuckling and grabs my hand to walk us into the hospital.

"I'm going to break that CD when you're sleeping."

"It's on my iPod too."

"I'll break that, too," he grumbles. He pulls out his phone to call Brandon so we know where to go, and he stops in his tracks when Brandon answers.

"What? What's wrong?" I ask, worry pumping into my chest.

"We'll be up in a minute," Seth says, hanging up. He turns to me and wraps his arms around my waist. He kisses my cheek and speaks to me with his lips grazing my skin. "So, you know how I told you it would take hours before Brooke had the baby?"

"Seth Montgomery!"

"Yeah . . . She already had the baby . . . I'm so sorry."

"I'll yell at you later. Take me there," I say shortly, but really I can't even pretend to be mad right now, and my lips twitch upward. He laughs lightly and leaves a tantalizing kiss on my lips before grabbing my hand and taking me to the elevator. We walk out and find the right room, knocking on the door with our hands locked together. Brandon opens the door with the biggest smile I've ever seen from him. His shaggy dark brown hair is a crazy mess, and his clothes are wrinkled, but the look on his face gives no impression that it's been a rough few hours.

I hug him as soon as we walk in.

"Is it a boy or girl?" I ask, turning toward Brooke's bed. She looks incredible. You know . . . the girl you hate for looking so good after just having a baby? That's Brooke. Her blond hair is in pretty curls, and her makeup looks flawless. Even her hospital gown is a pink cheetah print. She holds a bundle in her arms and speaks to it softly, her smile never faltering.

She's so in love with that baby.

"It's a boy!" Brandon announces, coming up next to Brooke's side and staring at his son. I have a godson! Seth snakes his arm around my waist and plants a kiss in my hair, breathing me in deeply. It's a beautiful sight―Brandon and Brooke, perfect together and so in love, falling in love with their baby right before our eyes.

"We named him Alec David . . . after Brandon's grandfather," Brooke says, looking up at us with a gorgeous smile.

"I love the name, Brooke." I want to go up to him. I want to take him in my arms and hold him and kiss him, but I don't want to intrude on their moment. And also, I'm scared. Should they even trust me with their baby?

"Want to hold him?" she asks, touching her baby's cheek gently with her finger.

I hold my breath and my heart pounds in uncertainty. I've never held a baby before, so I have no clue what I'm doing. Brandon walks up to us and hands me the baby before I can even reply. I mimic the way they both were holding him and cradle his head in the crook of my arm.

"Oh my god . . . ," I whisper when I look at the baby. I graze my thumb over his cheek and try to push back the swell of emotions. He's got the cutest button nose and blond hair that's barely noticeable. His eyes are closed as if it's too bright in the room, his lips are puckered, and his tongue is moving in and out of his mouth. He's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.

Seth's arms wrap around my stomach, and he holds me to his chest while looking over my shoulder to see our godson.

"He's so handsome," I say softly, turning my head to look up at Seth. He's got the cutest and most charming grin on his face, looking at the little boy who just stole our hearts. His eyes meet mine, and they search mine briefly before he leans down and kisses me.

"You look mighty good with a baby in your arms, Pussycat," he says when he pulls back, voice heavy with emotion. My heart surges enormously at his words, and I have to look away from the intensity of his look. It's almost like he just realized something profound, and the earnestness in his eyes is so strong, it makes my heart feel like it needs to jump out and reach for him.

Seth's left arm holds me tighter against his chest, and he brings his right hand to caress Alec's soft head. We both stare at him, completely mesmerized. We hear a click of a camera, and we both look up to see Brandon snapping a picture of the two of us.

A camera!

"I left my purse in the car. I need to go get my camera." I'm overly careful as I give Brandon his son back and start toward the door. Brooke already looks like she'll fall asleep any second.

"I'll get it," Seth says, coming up to me.

"It's okay," I assure him, reaching up and wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'll be right back. I need to take a ton of pictures."

"Grab my camera bag, too. I love you." His thumb rubs my jaw and he leans down to kiss me. It's meant to be a chaste kiss goodbye, but it turns into something so much more. Maybe it's the love in the air or the moment we just shared together, but it feels like so much more than a normal kiss. My hands hold his face.

I've never felt so connected to someone―a feeling of neediness and desire overpowering every single experience and moment in a day. When I finally force myself away from his lips, we stare into each other eyes, searching to make sure we're both sharing the same paramount emotion.

"I love you so much," I say, squeezing his hand once and yelling at my brain to make my feet walk away. _I'll be right back_ , I tell myself.

The whole way down to the truck, I try to figure out what's happening to me. I've been madly in love with Seth for ages, but I feel a shift in my feelings. It's stronger and means so much more. It's like I'm realizing for the first time that I can't go the rest of my life without him in it. But more than that―I don't want to. I want to be with him for as long as we survive this world, and then some more.

No. That's not even close to how long I want him. I can't put my finger on the difference; I just know that he's everything I've been looking for without even knowing.

I grab my purse and the camera bag out of the truck and head upstairs in a hurry. I'll figure out my overwhelming emotions later, when I'm not overloaded with so many baby feelings.

When I walk into the hallway, I see Brandon on his phone with a stupid grin on his face. He must be calling everyone and letting them know that his baby is here. _I wonder if Seth would be that excited if he had a kid_. I shake my head of those thoughts, unsure of why my mind went in that direction.

When I walk into the room, I'm greeted by a sight that will forever be burnt into my memory because of its beauty. Brooke's asleep in her bed, and Seth's blond hair falls over his eyes as he looks down at the tiny infant he's holding in his strong, tattooed arms. The sight takes my breath away, and my heart knocks loudly against my chest. Seth talks softly and coos to baby Alec while gently rocking him in his arms.

I remember when his father had a heart attack, I thought how sweet it was to see this tattooed, tough, cocky man comforting his fragile, older mother—but there's something even more gorgeous about seeing him in love with a tiny baby. I feel someone come up behind me, but I'm too captivated by Seth that I don't pay attention. I'm not sure what's building inside of me, but it feels like a yearning for something new―something I didn't think I'd ever want.

I keep my eyes on him, and eventually he looks up to see me leaning against the wall and staring at him. A languid grin starts on his full lips as we look at each other, feeling the same longing across the room. Then his eyes dart behind me, and a glower replaces his calm and placid expression. I look behind me and find dark brown eyes staring at me.

Blake's quick to notice me looking, but not quick enough to completely hide the sadness and ache in his eyes before he raises back up the steel wall that I've now become used to. A flashback of him walking out my door brokenhearted flares in my head, and I start to feel sad about where we've come. I'm sad that we were never able to open up to each other the way we should have. Maybe we wouldn't dislike each other so much if we had been honest.

Any sadness I have is washed away as his glare turns into one of complete hatred. _How can he change so quickly?_ I bristle under his scowl and start to walk toward the one person I know loves me. Being around Blake is too hard. I hate him. I care for him. I'm sorry for him. I really don't know what to feel when he's around.

Brandon walks into the room, and I immediately feel bad for the situation we just put him in. He shouldn't have to worry about refereeing us on the day his son is born. That's not fair.

"Uh . . . Blake, can I talk to you a minute?" Brandon asks, pulling Blake from the room. When the door shuts, I turn to Seth, whose jaw is tense.

"You look mighty good with a baby in your arms, Sethy," I say, coming up to him and Alec. There's a slight tug of a smile on his lips, and I take comfort in that.

"Do you want to leave?" he asks quietly, placing a kiss on the baby's head. Cue the freaking _awws._ I practically melt right in front of him.

"I wanted to get some pictures."

"We can come back later."

I shake my head and take my camera out of my purse, turning it on to take a couple pictures of Alec and Seth. I don't want to run away from Blake forever. I promised myself I would pick myself up and move on. I've made a new life with Seth and I don't need to run away whenever Blake's around. If he can't handle being in the same room as I am, then that's on him.

"Your godmommy is so stubborn," Seth coos to Alec, making me smile. _Is that a puddle on the floor? Oh, why yes it is_ . . . _It's me melting from adorable overload._

"I'm not stubborn—I just don't appreciate a bully making me feel like I have to leave every time he's around."

"Tell her, Alec . . . She's a crazy woman!" Seth teases, talking to the baby again.

I know Seth is worried about me getting hurt, but it almost feels like he needs me to leave―like he's trying to shelter me from something. Blake can't do much worse to me than he did the last time I saw him.

"You are _not_ turning him against me already," I reprimand playfully, returning our attention to the cute bundle in his arms.

"Well, I have to be his favorite somehow."

"You'll never be his favorite. I'm an elementary school teacher; I'll know exactly what he wants and what's cool and happening."

"Yeah? Well, I'm a photographer who takes pictures of naked women . . . Who do you think he'd rather hang out with?"

"You're good," I say, pursing my lips to the side and narrowing my eyes at him.

A nurse walks into the room and smiles at us. Actually, she smiles at Seth, and I don't like that smile. He looks fucking gorgeous, _especially_ holding a baby, and I don't want anyone else thinking the same thing. Yes, I know I'm being ridiculous, but he's mine.

"I need to take the baby in for a couple tests," she says sweetly, walking up to me and Seth. Her blond hair and blue eyes are exactly his type. Seth hands her the baby, and I notice that he's careful not to let her touch him in the exchange. She puts Alec in his warmer and rolls the cart out of the room.

"Wanna get some lunch?" Seth asks and grabs my hand to pull me into him.

"Yes! I'm starving." He kisses the tip of my nose and tugs me out of the room. I want to find Brandon first to let him know they took the baby and ask if he wants us to pick up anything, so we start our search for him. We find him down the hall with Blake talking in harsh, hushed voices.

"Come on, Jos. We'll call him," Seth says in an urgent tone. I crease my brows and look up at Seth. _What is he so worried about?_ I walk down the hall anyway and overhear some of their conversation.

"Are you kidding me, Brandon? This must be a joke."

"Chill out, Blake. He's my best friend."

"I'm your brother! It should have been Josie and me, not him."

"It should be whoever the fuck Brooke and I want it to be. It's none of your business." I see Blake's muscles bulging in his arms as his fists clench. He must have just found out about us being Alec's godparents, but I don't understand his anger. Why does he care?

"It should have been me and her. That's _my_ Josie, and you're acting like those two are going to stay together."

"That's because I _do_ think―,"

"I'm not your anything, Blake," I say as I walk up to them. I can feel Seth's anger palpitating behind me, but I keep walking.

Blake jerks his head in my direction, and I see his hurt and annoyance immediately. "Stay out of this, Jo," he says through gritted teeth, looking away from my glare.

"Not when you're using my name in your conversation. I'm not yours, Blake. You don't get to push me around anymore."

" _Anymore_? Are you serious?" he asks, exasperated and looking back at me again. "I treated you like you were fucking god's gift to humanity! I didn't fucking push you around. Ever."

"That's not―"

"No, Jo! Don't try to make up for what you said. You can't take things back. You can't just make things go away and act like they didn't happen!"

"I'm not―"

"You are!" As Blake raises his voice, Seth takes a protective stance next to me. Ignoring him, Blake continues. "You are. You try to justify things as if you're always the victim, but you're not. You deserve every bit of hatred I have for you. That's not pushing you around. That's fucking justice for everything you've done."

"That's so unfair," I say quietly, a note of hurt in my voice. Seth tries to pull me into him, but I shove him away. Blake throws his head back and barks out a fake laugh.

"Unfair? You want to talk about unfair? How about the fact that the girl I was crazy about murdered my baby before I even had a chance to make things right? How about the fact that my brother here thinks that it's smart to let you be my nephew's godparent even after knowing what you did? You shouldn't be allowed around anyone's kids."

I feel Seth jerk next to me, but I step in front of him, putting my shoulder in the way so he doesn't come closer. This is between me and Blake. Blake's glower holds so much hatred―so much that it pains me to look at him, because it reminds me too much of someone else.

"Your father raped me, Blake. He held me against a wall choking me until I was about to pass out while he tore me open and raped me. He almost killed me! And I forgave you for lying to me about knowing that. I fucking forgave you! And you couldn't take a fucking minute and try to understand how it felt for me to carry a baby with his blood?" Blake's eyes turn angrier as I speak, and he walks up to me, leaving an inch of space between us. I feel Seth grip my shoulder. I know he's trying to stop a big scene, but I don't care. I shrug out of his grip and stand up tall, even though I'm much smaller than Blake.

" _I_ didn't rape you, Josie. Stop blaming me for what my father did to you." He lowers his head so there's hardly any space between us and speaks softly but sharply. "You think you're the bigger person because you forgave me? Forgave me for trying to protect you?" He rolls his eyes. "Wow, you _are_ a great person for that, Josie. Forgiving me, and then taking me back to your apartment to fuck in every room―all the while, knowing that you have your own secret. Guess it's just in your nature though, isn't it? You used your boyfriend here that whole summer while you were thinking about being with me." He looks behind me to Seth and gives him a mocking smirk. "How did it feel to be fucking a girl that couldn't get me out of her head?" He looks back down at me and continues to rip me apart. "Then you come to me and get what you want before dropping the great news that you're actually a terrible person . . . a self-centered bitch."

He hates me. There's no denying the hatred in his eyes, so dark brown that they look vicious. I hear a muttered curse behind me, and then I feel an emptiness surround me. I hate him, too.

"You look just like your father when you look at me like that," I say darkly. I know it's a low blow, but I can't stop the words from coming out.

He knew exactly how to hurt me, and it worked. He flinches and backs away from me.

I step back, hoping to find the comfort that Seth had been offering moments earlier, but I feel nothing. I look behind me and he's gone. I let out the tiniest cry of pain and look back in front of me. Brandon runs a hand through his hair and has a conflicted look on his face. I should have just walked away.

"Um . . . They took Alec for some testing . . . ," I say, voice breaking from the sorrow I feel. I want to ask if he wants anything when Seth and I go out, but Seth isn't here and I don't know if he's left me for good. What if what Blake said made him realize that I'm not worth his time?

I don't and can't say anything else, so I walk away, forcing back my tears. 

# Chapter 32

### Seth

It takes so much fucking strength to walk away from that conversation.

It takes even more not to race the fuck out of that parking lot and never look back. I slam my fist against the steering wheel, needing the bodily pain as an outlet for the fury that's raging like a vicious hurricane inside.

She didn't just push me away once up there, she pushed me away three times. Three fucking times. I thought we were over this bullshit, but he still gets to her.

I watch her walk out of the front entrance and look around. I can't decipher her expression from this far away, but she looks like she's not sure what to do with herself. I'm pissed at her, but I'm not going to make her stand out there alone. I get out and walk up to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the side where there are no people.

"Why did you leave?" Her eyes are wide with tears that she's trying so hard not to shed.

"Why didn't you just walk away, Jos? Why did you have to go up to him?"

She shakes her head. "I―I don't know. I wanted to stand up for myself. I wanted him to know he can't talk about me like that."

"Josie! You don't have to say anything to him. You two are done."

"Why are you acting like this? What are you scared of?" she asks.

And that's the problem. I'm scared. I run a hand through my hair and debate how to approach this. "Why did you shove me away?"

"We're not getting anywhere if we keep asking questions and get no answers!" I wait for her to answer me, and she finally sighs and relents. "I'm not weak, Seth. I just wanted him to know he can't push me around."

"How did that work for you, Jos? He didn't hurt you with what he said?" She looks away and I watch her clasp her hands together to stop the shaking. He did get to her. "I know you're strong, baby, but he knows exactly how to hurt you. It killed me to have you push me away―for you to act like I was useless to help you."

"That's not what I was trying to do!" she exclaims, getting frustrated.

"Yes it is! You pushed me away, like you _always_ do when you're hurting because of him. He gets in your head, and you shove me away." I walk closer to her, and cup her face. "You want to know why I'm scared? I'm scared because he promised he would destroy us and you walked right into another one of his traps."

"What do you mean?" she asks quietly.

"The last time I talked to him, he was pissed and threatened to ruin us, and what he said up there was just another way to get you to break. If he makes you feel bad enough, he knows you'll run away from me again."

"I won't," she promises, shaking her head.

"I _hate_ him, Josie. He's playing a game I don't want to be a part of. I need you to let him go. Because he obviously still has some kind of hold on you." Maybe that's what hurt the most. The fact that she still cares if he sees her as an awful person.

"He doesn't, Seth. I swear! I just don't like being accused of being a disgusting person for something I feel I had every right to do. I mean, don't you think I've felt guilty long enough? How can you stand here and tell me that I shouldn't be fighting back! How can you say that I should just let it go, while he goes around telling people I have no business to be around that baby?"

"No, Jos, don't be stupid. I mean, I saw the way you flinched when he looked at you. You didn't like him looking at you with so much hatred. _That's_ what worries me."

"And why did you walk away, Seth?" she asks pulling away from me. "It wouldn't be because he reminded you about how I used you?"

"Do you not see what he did? Do you hear yourself? One fucking encounter with him, and we're already fighting."

"I see the man I love not trusting me. That's what I see, Seth."

"I don't trust _him_! I will _not_ risk losing you just so you can prove that he's being an asshole. Everyone knows he's a dick. Did you not see Brandon up there? Did you not care that you just started another fight on what's supposed to be the happiest day of his life? Want to know why I walked away? It has nothing fucking to do with a reminder of how you used me, and it has everything to do with my best friend hurting because his family is fighting when everyone should be laughing and swooning over his son!"

A single tear slides down her face, and she closes her eyes. She backs away and I see hurt written all over her. I don't want to hurt her; I just want her to see that it's unnecessary to keep fighting over what happened. It's time to let go of that part of her life, and move on. With me.

"I'm calling my dad to pick me up," she whispers, turning away and taking her phone out of her bag. _Like hell she is._

"You're running away right now, Josie," I tell her.

She stops herself from walking further away and turns back to me. "I'm not running. I just need to think." She shakes her head, and I see uncertainty in her face. She's so confused, but she still scrolls through her contacts on her phone.

"I'll be in my truck. I'm not leaving unless you're with me." I turn away from her and walk back to the parking lot. As soon as I see her hang up her phone, I text her dad.

**Me: _Don't pick her up and don't tell her that you're not coming. I'm here_**

**Tony: _Is she okay?_**

**Me: _She's being stubborn as usual_**

**Tony: _Sounds about right. Take care of her_**

**Me: _Always_**

So for the next few hours, I alternate between listening to music in the car and going outside to lean against the hood and watching her. She's frustrated―annoyed that I'm right and that her Dad still isn't here, and it makes me smile more than it probably should. She's so goddamn tenacious. She sends me defiant glares, straightening her shoulders to show me that she isn't going to concede. But she will.

I don't like fighting with her, but her feistiness is what I love about her. And it doesn't help that she's sexier when she's angry.

Flashes from earlier come to mind. I think I fell in love with her even more when she held baby Alec. She looked terrified when they asked if she wanted to hold him. Her hand started shaking, and I knew her fears of not being good enough were coming back. I'm not sure she's ever held a baby before today, but she looked amazing. She was so cautious cradling him, but that look in her eyes . . . Fuck, that look made her even more gorgeous.

Visions of us living far away from here―married and with our own kids―flashed in my mind. I pictured a little girl with long, dark brown hair just like Josie's, who was every bit as gorgeous as her mother. If there ever was a moment of feeling completely and utterly in love with someone, it was with that image. There was definitely a shift in our relationship as I held her and kissed her right after.

It just hit me, and my breath caught as I looked at her. I already knew I didn't want anyone else, but the future never fully clicked until that moment. I wanted to marry her right there and make a ton of babies with her, starting in the next empty hospital bed. I wanted _everything_.

And when she left to go get my camera bag, I felt like I couldn't let go of her. I never want to let her go. I never want to be without her.

It was fucking intense.

I saw how Blake looked at Josie in the hospital room, before she noticed he was there and before he noticed I was watching. He was looking at her with the same longing I felt for so long. He knows he lost the greatest girl he could have ever had, and it showed on his face. It was probably made worse when he caught the wistful look Josie sent my way while I was holding the baby.

When we walked up to Blake and Brandon, I was livid listening to what Blake was saying. Josie focused on just one part of that conversation, but she missed a lot more. She didn't understand the meaning behind what he said. Blake's not over her. He wanted it to be him and Josie as Alec's godparents. And he was pissed that Josie and I had Brandon's support.

I couldn't keep watching Brandon's face fall with each sentence the two of them spat at each other. I was pissed she pushed me away. I was pissed he was making her upset. I was pissed they were upsetting my best friend. So I walked away, hoping Josie would notice and wouldn't be far behind.

I'm unwrapping my third piece of gum and leaning against the hood of my truck by the time Josie starts walking toward me. Well, more like stomping. I turn my face away slightly so I can hide my grin of satisfaction. When I'm composed, I stare at her intently, watching every stomp she makes. She throws her purse on the hood, and my dick twitches. Why does she have to be so sexy when she's mad?

Three hours and thirteen minutes until she came to her fucking senses.

"Your Kindle die?" I ask casually.

"Yes," she responds curtly.

 I smash my lips together―it's fucking hard not to laugh at her annoyance. "You should start remembering to charge it at night." She rolls her eyes and looks away. She mumbles something while her head is turned, and I grin. "What was that, Pussycat?"

She whips her head around and glares again. I shift my feet, trying to calm the erection I have, but there's only one way this problem will be solved―and she's standing in front of me with a look that makes it clear that sex is the last thing on her mind. She's gorgeous―strands of her long hair fling in front of her face and her blue eyes have a beautiful darkness to them, a strength and power she's kept hidden for six years.

"Stop distracting me at night, and I'd remember!"

"No way that'll happen . . . Figure out something else." I slip my fingers through her wayward hair, and push it back behind her ear. She can't hide the little shiver that shakes her when I touch her. "Is this really what you want to be bickering about, baby?"

"Dad didn't come."

"I know." I have to hide another grin. She's so pissed off, but it's cute as hell.

"You were right . . . ," she mutters, looking at her feet.

I lean into her and ask, "I'm sorry . . . What did you just say?"

"I said you were right, Seth!" She's even more pissed she just admitted that, and I let out a loud laugh.

"I know I am, but I want you to list every reason why. I will cherish this moment forever."

_Ahhhh, another eye roll. That's my girl._

"I shouldn't have let that escalate into a fucking shouting match in there. I should've just walked away when you asked me to. And I shouldn't have pushed you away. I want you to know though, that I don't feel sorry for standing my ground, but I _am_ sorry for doing it here. Today."

"Pussycat, I don't want you not to stand up for yourself. This just wasn't the time or place for it. Also, we're a team. You don't do these things alone, and you sure as hell don't get to push me away and do it yourself. We've been taking down bullies together since we were six, and we're not changing that now."

"I want to be strong."

"You're the strongest person I know." She really is.

"I'm not. I'm weak." There's so much sadness in her voice, like she actually believes that.

"Bullshit, Jos. That's fucking stupid, and that's Blake getting into your head again. You're far from weak. It's more than the fact that you've overcome a lot of shit in your life. It's the person you are. You're tiny, but unbelievably powerful and intelligent and thoughtful. I've never known anyone as strong as you."

"What Blake said . . . did it make you rethink being with me? About me using you and how I'm a terrible person?" she asks softly, kicking her shoe against the pavement.

I move to stand in front of her and lean her against the truck. "No, Jos. I mean, he's a fucking prick for bringing it up, but I'm over that. Neither one of us were in a good place then. I shouldn't have agreed to be with you until you knew how I felt." I kiss the side of her mouth, feeling a jolt of pleasure from touching her soft skin again. "He doesn't know how we are together, Jos. He doesn't know how much you love me, too. He thinks he can throw that in our faces and cause a rift, but he doesn't realize how strong we are together. Nothing will make me stop loving you. It's impossible." She nods her head, and I finally see understanding in her eyes.

"I didn't like that you walked away," she confesses, quietly.

"Then I won't ever do it again. I'll throw you over my shoulder next time."

Her thin lips tilt up in a cute smile, and she leans into me. Her breasts brush my chest softly, but it's enough to cause a fire to start roaring inside of me. "We're getting a hotel room, let's go. We'll come back later." I open her door and wait for her to sit down.

"I can't believe my Dad didn't show," she ponders aloud as we buckle our seatbelts. Apparently I didn't hide my grin in time, because she hits my chest. "You didn't!"

"Of course I did. I told you, I'm not letting you run."

Instead of arguing that I shouldn't have done that, she leans in and kisses me hard.

I make it to the hotel room in less than a quarter of the time it should have taken. 

# February 
# Chapter 33

### Seth

"I swear, Seth! He just smiled at me!" Josie exclaims, clapping her hands and bouncing on her toes. My stomach gets that warm feeling again as I watch her.

"I don't believe you. Do it again," I tell her, standing on the opposite side of the bassinet.

"Okay . . . Okay," she says, waving her hands up and down the front of her body as a way to calm down her excitement.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I get my camera ready while she's not looking, and when she opens her eyes, her face contorts into a look that should make me run and hide. Her fingers pinch her cheeks together, her mouth is crooked, her tongue is sticking out, her eyes are crossed, and her eyebrows are all over the place. She looks ridiculous, so of course I snap the picture of her, and then I take a picture of Alec as he smiles at her. He sure as hell is smiling, too. Weirdo.

The bastard loves Josie. Any time she's around, he's all cute and sweet. But I've heard him with Brooke and Brandon, and the kid is Satan reincarnate. My main little man.

"Please tell me you took a picture of that! I wanna rub it in Brooke's face!"

"I got it, Pussycat. I also got one of you making that face."

"No you didn't!" she says, eyes widening and hands reaching for my camera. I hold it away from her and roll my eyes.

"You'll never win, baby. Stop trying." She pouts just like Alec does when he's hungry, and I lean across to kiss those sweet lips. She sighs, knowing she'll never get the camera, and then grins.

"Told you he smiled at me." She looks proud.

"Brooke's gonna be pissed," I say with a laugh.

"I don't even care." She picks Alec up, and kisses his nose. "Aunt Josie doesn't care 'cause she loves you _sooooo_ much," she fusses, rubbing her nose against his. I take another picture.

"Just remember this moment when you're eleven and you want to ask to see some of the pictures I've taken, little man. If you want in on my good side, then you better smile for me next time." I wrap my arm around Josie's waist, loving the way she smiles longingly at Alec and me.

Every time I look at her and see her wrapped up in that baby's world, it solidifies what I already know. Only two more weeks.

"Should I be concerned about all these pictures of naked people you're taking?"

I kiss her cheek. "Of course not. But Brooke should be scared, 'cause I'm gonna be making her son the most wanted kid on campus. Teach him everything I know."

She looks up at me and smiles seductively. "Well, then I guess he'll be pretty good."

"More than pretty good, Pussycat."

She chuckles softly and moves to cradle Alec in her arms. "I thought I heard their car pull up," she says.

"They did. They're probably getting a quick fuck in before they come inside."

It's not far-fetched. Brandon was complaining to me the other day that ever since Alec was born two months ago, they hardly had sex anymore. He was worried that even on their honeymoon in two weeks, he won't get laid. It's probably why they've been so fucking cranky lately, too. That's why Jos and I offered to babysit for them while they went out on a date.

And I love watching Josie with the baby.

"He's about to fall asleep. I'm going to put him in his crib. Do you. . .?" I know exactly what she's inferring as her voice trails off. I grab the back of her head and bring my mouth down to hers, giving her a hard kiss.

"If you want to hear me sing, all you have to do is ask, baby." She smiles sheepishly and looks back down at Alec. She used to stand in the doorway and spy on me singing to Alec, but she gave up on being discreet and now sits with me. If I don't have my guitar, she sits in my lap humming along and lying against my chest, but when I do play my guitar, she's between my legs looking at the baby.

We come over a lot to help out. Brooke called Jos a week after having Alec and broke down crying. She was too overwhelmed, so Josie and I came over and stayed with Brooke for a couple weeks. We learned quickly that having a baby is not as glamorous as people make it seem.

I follow Josie up the stairs and watch her lay Alec down gently, making sure he has his favorite pacifier and blanket. I sit down in the rocking chair and pat my thighs so she knows to sit down. She snuggles into me and leans her ear against my chest. It's her favorite spot.

I start singing _All My Loving_ by The Beatles, and it turns me on to hear the little pleased moan she lets out as she melts into me further.

I never knew that she enjoyed hearing me sing until recently. She came in while I was playing the drums in the garage one day, and she would have fucked me right there if I hadn't brought her back upstairs to my room. I can't wait until we're able to move into the home we found. Then I can fuck her wherever the hell I want and not have to worry about someone coming in and catching us.

My dad came in once while I was fucking her up against the tack wall in the barn. Needless to say, there were a lot of stupid jokes made at dinner, much to Josie's mortification. I love being inside of her out there in the barn. Something about her vanilla smell and the smell of hay makes her even sexier to me.

Another time, my mom about had a heart attack when she caught me eating Josie out on the kitchen counter in the middle of the night. She tasted better than the apple pie, so I couldn't resist. My mom called me early that morning, telling me to get my ass over there and bleach her counters.

Anyway, when I found out Josie liked my singing, I started doing it more for her. And I not-so-politely told her that she shouldn't sing along. Because she sucks. She's a terrible singer.

When I finish the song, I'm so fucking turned on from the way she's rubbing my thigh that I barely check to make sure that my main little man is asleep before I pick her up and take her into the hallway. I push her against the wall, and she's right there with me, kissing me zealously and wrapping her legs around me.

_Why the fuck did she wear jeans?_

I move my mouth to her neck and attack it. I fucking love this neck. I bite her and suck her skin into my mouth, making sure there's no way anyone can deny that she's taken. Sure, hickeys are childish and I never put them on anyone growing up because I thought they were gross, but on Josie they look fucking gorgeous.

"Why the fuck didn't you wear a dress, Jos?" I ask harshly, moving my mouth down her collarbone and into her cleavage. She moans and I push her harder against the wall so she feels every inch of how hard she's making my cock. I could already be inside of her if she had just worn one of her usual dresses, adding another pair of ripped panties to the storage bin we're holding them all in. I'd say twenty pairs of ripped panties isn't that bad, but Josie keeps getting mad at me for it, saying some bullshit about how she always has to buy new ones.

"I wanted to be comfy," she says sweetly. But that innocence changes real quick when I grab her breasts and pull her shirt down with her bra so I can put my mouth on her deliciously velvety tits, perky and begging for me to devour them. A sexy gasp falls from her lips as she bangs her head against the wall. The sound shoots straight to my straining cock, and I suck her hardened nipple into my mouth.

I push my hips into her again so the arousal in my jeans hits the sensitive spot between her legs. "If you keep moaning like that, I'm going to come, Jos." I move to her other breast and tease that nipple with my teeth and tongue. She shivers and moans again. My fucking cock hurts.

I vaguely hear some hushed voices, but my mind is where my dick is and my dick wants to be inside this girl's pussy, so I don't pay attention. Josie's hips grind against me as I suck on her firm skin and grab her thighs tightly.

"Oh lordie! They're fucking outside my son's bedroom!" Brooke squeals loudly.

_Fucking bitch._ I groan against Josie's skin and cover her chest while she fixes her shirt. We turn around to find Brooke giggling like crazy and leaning against Brandon.

I think I liked her bitchiness better when she was pregnant than when she's obnoxiously drunk. Brandon has a glazed look in his eyes and a sluggish grin on his face. I'm not completely sure that he has any idea what's going on.

"Oh my god," Josie whispers next to me. She covers her mouth to hide a laugh, but I don't hold mine back. I throw my head back and laugh.

"You fucking high, man?" I ask, hitting Brandon's shoulder. He's got a bag of potato chips in one hand and a couple candy bars in the other.

"Yeah he is . . . Got lit the hell up in the car," Brooke answers for him, giggling and rubbing his chest eagerly.

"Brooke! You can't get high! You'll get fired," Josie says, shocked. I laugh again. Josie's never done shit like that, so this is beyond scandalous for her.

"Oh hush, Josie. I'm not high, I'm drunk. But I'm gonna take the rest of the year off, anyway, so if I do it, it's no big deal."

Josie's eyes widen and her mouth parts in shock. Her dads weren't overprotective, but she sure as hell is clueless right now.

"Sometimes . . . ," Brandon starts, his speech very lethargic, " . . . having a kid makes you need to resort to smoking a little pot to take off the edge." I laugh again. The expression on his face makes it seem like he thinks he just made a profound speech. Without another word, he starts walking to their room.

"Grab Brooke before she falls over, Jos," I tell her, following them to their bedroom.

"Josie," Brooke says, reaching out and patting Josie's cheek. "I always knew you and Seth had physics. You kept telling me no, but I knew you were lying. You two are perfect together." Josie smiles at her sweetly and rubs her arm.

That made her happy to hear, I can tell.

"Josie?" Brooke starts again once Josie puts her under the covers. I start pulling out some of their clothes from the dresser and put them on the bed as I listen.

"Yes, Brooke?"

"I love you so much. You're my best friend. You make me forget that I don't have a family who loves me, because you're always here for me."

Josie sits next to her on the bed and strokes Brooke's blond hair. "We _are_ your family, Brooke. We'll always be here for you."

That word "we" sends another jolt of warmth through my chest. She's come so far in these last six months.

"Josie?" Brooke says. Brandon sits on the bed and starts eating his chips loudly.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Sometimes I think everyone is a robot except me . . . "

My Josie tries her hardest not to laugh, but as soon as she looks back at me, she can't help but bust out laughing. Brooke's fucking crazy.

"I know, Brooke." Josie gets up from the bed and grabs my hand.

"Brandon! Fuck your woman while we're here to take care of your son," I say, giving Brandon a pointed glare.

Brandon sends us a salute while we walk out of their room and close the door. Josie breaks out in a fit of giggles as soon as the door clicks, and I laugh with her. I pick her up and take her to the guest bedroom so I can make love to _my_ woman.

"I love you," she whispers into my neck, kissing me.

Never fucking gets old.

"I love you too, Jos," I say roughly, putting her on the bed. I waste no time unfastening the button on her jeans and pulling them off of her. I don't even bother with her thong―I move the fabric over, and my mouth is on her hot cunt.

My cock is hard and throbbing for her as soon as she lets out that first moan. The way this girl screams and moans for me drives me insane. She's fucking sexy as hell. I groan as I lick her, loving that she's already wet. She tastes so sweet, and it turns my instincts into something carnal when I continue to taste her. I need to lick her more. I fuck her hole with my tongue and my dick feels like it's about to bust as she grinds against my face.

She tries closing her legs, but I grip her thighs to hold her still. One problem, though. The fucking thong has to go. I grip the flimsy material in my fist and pull it until it rips apart. I look up at her face filled with complete hunger, and I smirk.

"Just stop wearing them," I say and bring my face back down to her sweet pussy. The more I taste her the more I need her. I move to her clit and suck it into my mouth. I slip two fingers inside of her and fuck her with them frantically while my mouth adds the pressure she needs on her clit. Her fingers dig into my scalp, and it encourages me more. I suck her, kiss her, lick her, lick down the length of her, and move back to her clit to start the process all over again. She writhes and moans loudly, getting closer to her brink.

I want that come. I need her come. Everything becomes more animalistic as I try to make her come for me.

"Seth . . . You're gonna make me come," she gasps. My name on her fucking lips is fucking heaven; it makes me groan, shiver, and lick her harder. Her hands make fists in my hair and she shakes, her hips bucking vehemently against my face.

She lets out a loud scream. I can feel her clit throbbing with her orgasm and it's the sexiest sensation ever. I lick her slowly as she calms down, looking up at her to watch as wild ecstasy turns into thorough satisfaction.

I climb up her body and take off my shirt. Her hands run over my stomach and chest, eyes turned heated once again. She reaches up and grabs the back of my neck to pull me down for a kiss. I love that her tongue seeks mine out enthusiastically even after I've finished eating her out. Girls I used to fuck would always want me to wipe my mouth first, but Josie fucking loves it. It turns her on.

Turns me on, too. She continues to explore my mouth as her hand slips into my jeans, gripping my hard dick in her small hand. I moan against her mouth and lean back so I can take the jeans off.

"Take off your shirt," I tell her as I take off the rest of my clothes. She listens. Such a good fucking girl. As soon as my clothes are off I'm back on her, kissing her violently and running my rough hands all over her silky skin. I feel between her thighs, slipping two fingers into her to make sure she's still wet for me. _Fuck yes_.

I pull back and grab the backs of her legs and put them on my shoulders. I want to be buried so fucking deep in her pussy that she can't fathom the importance of life if I'm not inside her.

I need to fuck her harder, so I grip her thighs tightly and rock my hips into her at a much faster pace. The more times I move in her, the better momentum my thrusts get. I fuck her relentlessly and deep, never getting enough of the screaming or the look in her eyes. She's uninhibited, not caring about anything else but getting loved on by me.

My favorite look.

"Play with your clit, baby," I say hoarsely. I need her to come again, and I'm about to bust any minute. She obeys and starts rubbing circles on her swollen spot, arching her back. I could lean down and play with it for her, but it's sexier watching her do it herself. "So fucking sexy, Jos."

My thrusts get harder, deeper, coaxing and begging for more moans and screams out of Josie's pretty, sweet lips. Sweat dampens the hair on my neck and chest as our momentum is heightened, and I moan as I watch Josie lick a drop that falls from my forehead to her bottom lip. Her hand stills and her other hand digs her nails into my arm.

"Don't come 'til you say it, Jos," I rumble, slowing down until she says it.

"I love you, Seth! Oh god, I fucking love you." I smile and fuck her earnestly again so she can orgasm. Her thighs are covered in goose bumps and she lets out another loud cry as her eyes close and she comes around my cock. I still, and then explode inside of her.

"Fuck yes," I grumble, jerking from the pleasure. I kiss her legs, pull them off of my shoulders, and lay next to her.

Our breathing is heavy, her body is shaking, and my hands caress her naked skin. I love when she's like this after sex, shivering from the passion and softening against me. I swear I fall in love with her all over again every day.

"Seth," she whispers.

I kiss the top of her head. "Hmmm?"

"You make me want things I didn't think I'd ever want," she admits into the darkness.

I kid you fucking not, my heart skips a beat. I pull her tighter into me, kissing her head again. "I feel the same way, Pussycat."

Before she falls asleep in my arms, she says something that brings back a memory from the past and hope for our future.

"You were my light the whole time . . . ," she whispers languorously, falling asleep a few seconds after. 

# March 
# Chapter 34

### Josie

"I don't know if I can go through with it," Brooke cries into the phone.

I jerk awake at her words and sit up straight.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" I ask, worried. Seth stirs next to me, and his eyes flutter as he tries to wake up.

"I don't know if I can do the whole marriage thing."

"Brooke!" I whisper harshly, trying not to wake up Seth. "You're getting married tomorrow! What happened?"

I hear her take a shuddering breath and release it. She sounds terrified. I can't believe she's getting cold feet the day before her wedding. The wedding date arrived sooner than we expected, but it's been about a year since she got engaged, so I don't understand her hesitance now.

"I don't know! I just don't know!" She starts crying again, and my heart hurts for her. Seth wraps an arm around my waist and kisses my hip. _Very_ distracting.

"Okay, well, you need to just take a deep breath and we'll talk about it when we get our nails done today. That's all. Just getting our nails done," I say to reassure her. If she doesn't look at it as if it's for the wedding, then maybe she won't freak.

"Okay," she breathes. "Just nails. Girl day."

"That's right, Brooke, just a girl day."

"I can do that."

"Good. We can talk when I get there, okay? But for now, just keep this to yourself."

"To myself," she says, breathing in again. "Okay."

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

"K. Bye."

We hang up and I lie back down.

"What was that about?" Seth asks groggily. I love his voice in the morning, deep and scratchy from sleep.

"Nothing." I scratch the side of my nose and try to snuggle in closer to him. He sits up on his elbow and looks down at me.

"You're lyin'," he states, simply. He knows me too well.

I smile up at him guiltily, not sure if I should confess what Brooke just told me. I don't want him blabbing to Brandon. "Promise not to say anything?" He scrutinizes me briefly, debating if he should agree to that or not. "Just at least give me a chance to fix it first. Okay?"

"Fine," he concedes.

"Brooke has cold feet." I close my eyes tightly so I don't have to look at him.

"Well, fuck . . . " He slides his arm under me and pulls me against his chest. "What'd she say?"

"She just said that she's not sure if she can do the whole marriage thing. She didn't say why or anything. I think she's scared. I'm going to try and figure it all out today when I see her."

"The wedding is tomorrow. What the fuck is she thinking?"

"I have no clue," I sigh. I didn't expect this at all. Those two are so secure in their relationship. They're great together, so this makes no sense.

"If you ever did that to me, backed out like that, I'd be pissed as hell. I don't know if I could ever forgive you," he admits bleakly.

"Well, not that we're getting married or anything, but I wouldn't back out. There'd have to be one hell of a big reason for that kind of decision. Anyway, I don't think she's backing out, I just think she's scared."

"Yeah."

He strokes my hair and we lie there together, our sleep evaporated. There's no way she's not going to marry Brandon. She loves him too much.

"You ready to move into the house in a couple days?" Seth asks, trying to cheer up the solemn mood. I grin up at him and nod my head.

"Yes!"

It's about time. We found the house in January, and we filed all the paperwork to buy it. It took a lot longer than we had hoped, but it's perfect for our first home. That sounds crazy―our first home. It sounds so promising, like there's so much more to come with our relationship.

We're allowed to move in tomorrow, but since the wedding is tomorrow, we're waiting until the day after. We want to get it ready immediately after the wedding, because we're watching Alec for a week while Brandon and Brooke go on their honeymoon.

He didn't even need to ask to know if I'm ready. I'm beyond excited.

He smiles at me and plays with my hair. "Me too."

When we finally get out of bed and get dressed, I start to feel sad. We haven't spent a night apart since we got together six months ago, but tonight we aren't sleeping together. Even after Brandon and Brooke's bachelor and bachelorette parties, Seth made me sneak into his hotel room. They were supposed to be completely separate parties, but I couldn't stay away from him. We were both insanely jealous that the other was looking at naked bodies, and we had fought about it before we left for the parties.

By the end of the night he had three naked pics of me playing with myself in the bathroom and I had two of him jerking off at the strip club. It only made sense to finish the day with some hot, loud make-up sex.

Tonight he'll be staying with Brandon, and Brooke will be here with me. It's only one night, but I'm still feeling down. Which annoys me. Why the hell am I so sad about it? I'm not a clingy girl, I've never been that way, but I feel too much with Seth sometimes. I think about him when I'm not with him, and he dominates every feeling when we _are_ together. It's been worse since the day Alec was born. Something changed and it made me feel deprived without him. I still don't know what it is, but the thought of being separated from him terrifies me.

"It'll be okay, Pussycat," Seth says, sensing where my thoughts are going. He sits down next to me on the bed and rubs my back while I brush my hair.

"I'm fine," I say sharply. I don't want him knowing I'm being such a girl about him.

"Well, just in case you aren't, I want you to know it'll be okay."

"I know it'll be okay . . . It's only one night . . . I think you're the one I should be worried about. You know, with your attachment problems and all." I transfer the issue to him so I don't look so bad. He takes it easily and chuckles.

"You caught me. I'm a fucking wreck inside. The thought of being away from you for even one night is killing me." He wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer. Burying his face in my neck, he continues, "I don't want you to forget that you love me."

I feel like there's some truth to what he's saying, but I don't say anything. "I've got your balls in my purse if you need them," I tease gently.

He pulls away, throws himself back on the bed, and cracks up laughing. He reaches out and grabs my arm to pull me on top of him. I smile down at him, my hair making a curtain around us.

"Don't forget that you love me," he tells me, after he stops laughing. This is why he always makes me tell him I love him when we have sex, so I never go a day forgetting who has my heart and soul.

"That's impossible, Seth. I'll never forget . . . " I push his hair back and kiss his full lips. He's mouthwatering.

"Better not," he says, voice rough and pulling my head down to his.

After he makes love to me for the second time that morning, we finally head out. Seth goes to Brandon's house and I go into town to meet Brooke to get our nails and hair done. I need to figure out what she's thinking. I park and walk into the salon to find her sitting in the chair reading a magazine.

"Hey Brooke." I sit down next to her, and when she looks up, she's a wreck. Brooke's always flawless, but today her eyes are red and her cheeks are stained with streaks of tears. "Oh, sweetie." I wrap my arm around her and hug her.

"What if he doesn't love me one day, like my parents?" she cries into my shoulder. I rub her hair and feel so much pain in my chest. I used to feel so sorry for myself for the bullying I went through and for what Blake put me through, but I was so clueless. I had two dads who loved me, plus I had George and Gayle. I didn't have siblings, but I had the best friend I could have ever asked for in Seth. Brooke's parents and brother don't even act like she exists.

"Brooke, he's not being forced to love you. He's not marrying you because you're holding a gun to his head. He's choosing you. He loves you so much."

"I'm so scared, Josie. I don't want to be alone." And boy does that statement hit home. I know _exactly_ how terrifying of a thought that is.

"I know, but I really don't have a doubt that Brandon will love you forever, Brooke. And I'm always here for you. Seth and I are both always here for you." I rub her back as her cries start to lessen. "Your family is missing out, but you have a better family now. Your future husband worships you, your son adores you, and your best friend loves you. We may be a small family, but we have a huge amount of love between us all. That's more than we can say about a lot of other families."

"I e-mailed my mom a picture of Alec and asked if they were coming. She said he's got my fat cheeks, and that they had some science award ceremony to go to instead."

I want to strangle her family. How could they not want to be a part of their daughter's life? "She's jealous Alec got all your gorgeous features and none of hers." That's true, thank god. Her mom is so _severe_ looking. "And I know it hurts that they won't be there tomorrow, but the people who care about you the most _will_ be there. And more importantly, you'll go home to a husband who loves you and a son who thinks you're a hero. What does your family have? A huge empty house and plastic awards."

Eventually she pulls back, nodding her head and wiping her eyes. She looks better, and I know a day of primping will help. After she gets her nails done, her hair done, and a surprise massage, courtesy of Brandon's extreme thoughtfulness, she's pretty much back to her old self. She talks about the wedding as if it's still on, and I feel so relieved that she still wants to go through with it.

When we get to Seth's house I send him a text to let him know everything is okay.

**Me: _Crisis averted_**

**Seth: _I love it when you talk dirty to me_**

**Me: _I copy that, Sir_**

**Seth: _Mmm. Woman you better fix this boner I have_**

**Me: _You're in a room full of men, I'm sure one of them can help ;)_**

**Seth: _Send me a pic of your tits_**

I laugh out loud as we walk up the stairs to my room.

"What?" Brooke asks, turning around.

I shake my head. "Seth wants a pic of my tits."

She laughs, too.

I search the web, and once I find what I'm looking for, I send it to him. I get a phone call thirty seconds after I send it.

"Yes?" I answer innocently.

"What the fuck are you doing with a picture of a dick on your phone?" he asks harshly.

I laugh instead of answering him, tears forming from laughing so hard. "And not even a good one either."

That makes me laugh harder, and Brooke sends me a questioning look as she sits down on the bed. I guess Seth didn't like the micro penis picture I sent him.

"It's called the Internet, Seth."

"Why the fuck are you looking up dicks?"

"Oh my god! Stop!" I exclaim.

I hear a light laugh from the speaker on my phone, and I know he's messing with me.

"If you want a picture of my dick, I can send you some, Pussycat."

"I'm sure one will show everything I need to see, no need for more than that."

"Done. I'll send it to you tonight. I want you to play with yourself while looking at it." His deep voice is seductive through the phone. He turns my laughter into craving for him. I need to change the direction of this conversation before it leads to phone sex.

"Can I take Kitten for a ride? I thought Brooke may like to go horseback riding," I ask, settling onto the bed.

"Of course, baby. She's your horse," he says, voice oozing sweetness he reserves for me.

"Well, I mean, I ride her, but she's not mine. She's yours and your dad's." Brooke smiles excitedly at the news of riding horses. She's been talking about horseback riding for a while, so I thought it'd be an awesome way to spend the night before her wedding.

"Oh, well, actually she's yours." I hear him shuffling around in the background and hear a door close.

"What? What do you mean?" I ask, surprised.

"I don't know why I haven't told you yet, but I got her for you in the first place. I was just too much of a pussy to tell you I got her for you because I loved you."

Holy sweetness. "I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"Yeah . . . It's not a big deal. Go have fun, Pussycat. I love you." Mmm, and those words are music to my ears. Every time I hear them I get butterflies in my stomach.

"I love you, too. Don't watch too much porn with the guys."

"Eh, we'll see," he banters.

We hang up and Brooke looks like she's about to explode with excitement. This is why I love her so much. She's so excited to live her life, and it's refreshing.

"Come on, let's go ride some horses."

***

"I can't believe I'm getting married today," Brooke whispers after the alarm goes off. I grab her hand and squeeze it tightly.

"I'm so happy for you, Brooke." She looks over at me and has the happiest smile on her face.

"I'm pretty fucking lucky, huh?"

"Yes, you are."

She shrieks and kicks her legs, and the excitement is contagious. She's much better today than she was yesterday morning.

"Come on, let's go," I say getting out of bed. We're meeting all the other bridesmaids at the hotel to get ready.

As we walk to our cars, Gayle comes out of the house and calls my name. She hugs me when she walks up to me, and I'm reminded once again of Daddy. I'll have to stop by his grave soon.

"I just wanted to talk to you before you leave." She smiles at me brightly and I see a twinkle in her blue-green eyes―the same as Seth's. Seth's going to look really good when he's older.

"What's up?"

"Well, you and Seth are moving out tomorrow, and I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. Both of you. I'm going to miss you so much."

"Aw . . . We're only about twenty minutes away."

She shakes her head, and I see her tears starting. It must be hard knowing your son is moving out.

"I know, I know. You two are so good together, Josie. He loves you more than I ever thought he could love someone. I've never seen him so happy. I just wanted you to know that I love you and that I'm so glad you're in his life."

I feel like she wants to say something else, but she doesn't. I give her another hug and enjoy the love of a woman who is like a mother to me.

"I love you, too, Gayle. You and George. Thanks for trusting me with your son."

"Oh, there's never been anyone else for him. We all knew it." She pulls away and pats my cheek. "Okay. Now go have fun. We'll see you later this week."

I turn around and face Brooke, who is leaning against her car and watching the exchange with a small smile on her face. "Ready to get married?" I ask.

"Yeah, bitch. Let's go!" 

# Chapter 35

### Seth

"Glad you're here for this," Brandon says, walking into the room and tucking in his dress shirt.

"Me too," I say, looking back in the mirror as I tie my tie. I'm not used to dressing like this, so it's taken me about ten tries to get it right.

"You think you would have come back if her dad hadn't died?" he asks as he leans against the doorframe.

"I was already coming back. I was going to come home a week later, anyway, but then I heard what happened and I came back early."

"I didn't know that," he says.

I shrug and give up on the motherfucking tie. "I knew I couldn't just let her go. It was time for me to come back."

"You ready? For tomorrow, I mean?" he asks.

"Yeah, man. It's about time . . . More importantly, are _you_ ready? You're the one who's about to marry a crazy bitch."

"If she knew I didn't punch you after you said that, she'd kill me," he says, chuckling.

I walk up to him and clasp his shoulder. "She's a good girl. I'm happy for you."

Brody walks into the room with a stupid grin on his face. He's lucky it's his brother's wedding, because I still owe him a punch to the fucking jaw.

"How's my future wife, Seth?" he asks.

"You looking to have a bloody nose for your brother's ceremony?" I ask. I know he's joking, but he needs to watch himself.

"Aw come on, I helped y'all out."

"By kissing my girl. Thanks a lot," I say cynically.

"It worked, though. She was jealous as hell," Brody says with an impish grin. She was. She couldn't hide it anymore. "Anyway, I come here in peace. Brandon told me you like to play the drums and guitar, and I play the guitar, so I thought we could jam when I'm in town."

This guy is seriously fucking weird. But something about him is so genuine that I wouldn't mind getting to know him.

"Sure. Whatever."

"Cool." He turns to Brandon and slaps his back. "It's time, little bro. Let's head over and send you to your death."

When we get to the hotel where the ceremony and reception are taking place, Blake and their mom walks up to us. We had a rehearsal dinner last week and Blake kept his mouth shut, so I'm hoping he does the same today.

"Hey," Brandon says, turning to me. "Can you take Alec to Brooke and Josie?"

"Yeah. I'll see you up front." I take Alec from Brandon's mom and walk to the suite that the girls are getting ready in. I knock on the door and look down at my main little man. He's got a handsome little tux on and is trying to talk, slobber coming out of his mouth. I use the back of my tie to wipe it up, and the door opens.

"I saw that," Josie says, grinning.

"Holy shit," I whisper, dragging my eyes up and down her body. She's wearing a sapphire blue, strapless, knee-length dress with a yellow sash wrapped around her waist. Have I mentioned that blue is most definitely Josie's color? Her hair is straight and falls more than halfway down her back, and she's got sexy, tall silver heels on. "You're gorgeous."

She smiles shyly and looks back at the baby. I see red creeping onto her tanned cheeks and I groan. If I didn't have a baby in my arms, I would try to convince her to let me take her right here.

"You look really handsome, Seth," she says, looking back into my eyes. Man, I fucking missed waking up to her this morning.

"I always look good." I wink at her and she rolls her eyes.

"Hold still." Her arms reach up to my neck, but instead of kissing me like I want her to, she fixes my tie.

"How do you know how to tie this thing?"

She chuckles and shakes her head. "Two dads, remember?"

"I guess this is what I get for having a farmer for a dad," I say, stealing a quick kiss while she isn't paying attention.

"Your mom was so sweet this morning. She came up to me and was all emotional because we're moving out tomorrow. She was telling me how happy she is that we're together and that I'm good for you. I don't know; it was just really sweet."

_I'm gonna kill that old woman._

Josie finishes tying the tie and takes Alec from my arms.

"You _are_ good for me. Too good," I tell her, kissing her finally. She pulls away too soon and touches two small fingers to her lips, hiding a small smile. It's nice to know she still reacts that way when I kiss her.

"I'll meet you at the altar," she says, voice a little husky after our kiss. Then her eyes widen as she realizes what she said, and she tries to cover it up. "I mean . . . like, I'll walk down the aisle . . . Ugh, like, I'll see you up front. Where Brooke and Brandon are getting married." She rolls her eyes and hits her forehead with her palm.

"I got what you meant, Pussycat," I say, smiling at her flustering. "Can't wait to watch you walk down that aisle." I wink at her again and back away. The last thing I hear before turning the corner is a chorus of squeals as Josie walks in with the baby.

Brandon, Blake, Brody, Robbie, Dom and I all stand in front of an altar overlooking a lake, where Brooke and Brandon are about to exchange their vows. The air is warm with a slight breeze, and the tranquil environment in the back of the hotel, with its mixture of elegance and calmness, makes for a perfect venue. The altar overlooking the lake is beautiful, adorned with yellow and white flowers and a lattice pattern in the arch. As soon as the music starts, my heart beats hard in my chest. Josie looked stunning earlier, but as she walks down the aisle holding a bouquet of yellow roses, she takes my breath away.

Nothing else matters but that girl in blue who stole my heart so long ago.

# Chapter 36

### Josie

My sights are only on one person as I walk down the aisle.

His blue-green eyes captivate mine the moment I turn the corner. Butterflies flutter and attack my stomach and I can't stop the grin that takes over my face. His blond hair is slicked back in a sexy, artful look and he looks handsome as hell in his black tuxedo. The royal blue of the vest makes his eyes pop, a sight that I notice even from the back of the walkway.

I can't breathe as I get closer to him, and I have to scream to myself to go right instead of to the left, where Seth is standing. I want him to hold me. Love me. Kiss me. I want him so badly my heart and soul hurt from the pain of needing to be closer to him. Instead, I stand on the opposite side and hope that the ceremony isn't too long.

The music for the bride begins playing, and I have to force my gaze away from his. I look ahead and watch as my best friend locks arms with my dad and walks toward her groom. She's stunning. She's wearing a classy, fitted lace dress that flares out at the bottom. Her hair is swept to the side at the nape of her neck and a veil cascades down to her waist. She's the most gorgeous bride I've ever seen.

Getting my dad to walk her down the aisle was a last minute idea, but one she cried about when I told her this morning, especially after what her mom had said to her. Her eyes are on one person only, and his eyes are on her. Watching them look at each other while she walks down the aisle makes me happy and hopeful.

As a little girl I used to play wedding, but as I got older I never thought I'd get married as long as my dads weren't able to. I watch as my Dad gives away my best friend, and I start to rethink that concept.

The ceremony is beautiful. They recite their vows, and they take the rings from their ring bearer son, who's lying in a tulle-decorated wagon. When it's time for them to kiss, Brandon grabs her waist and dips her over to kiss her passionately. They never cared if people watched them get it on before, and they don't hold back now.

It's perfect.

Seth grabs my hand as we walk to the opposite side of the lake for pictures, and he leans in to whisper in my ear, "I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you are, Jos."

That feeling of neediness returns, and I want to be in his arms so bad. Festivities be damned. I look up at him and see earnestness glittering in the beautiful depths of his eyes, and I know he really means what he says.

"I couldn't stop staring at you," I say with a smile. "You look hot in that tux."

We stop at the gazebo, and he finally pulls me into his arms. Twenty-four hours was way too long to go without him touching me.

"I couldn't take my eyes off of you either," he says, leaning into me and playing with my hair. He kisses my neck and grazes his lips along my jaw. My mouth parts as I attempt to take a breath, suddenly incapable of performing simple functions properly, like breathing. His proximity works me up, and I arch my back so my chest hits his. "Every time I see you, I fall in love with you all over again." He kisses the side of my mouth and brushes my lips softly before moving to the other side. His hands rest on the bottom of my back and he draws me in further.

"I always think I can't possibly love you more, but you prove me wrong every single fucking day," he says, huskily. There's so much truth and passion in his voice, and my heart flutters as I take in the full effects of his love for me. He pulls my top lip into his mouth and I let out a little whimper. I want so much more.

"I'm so in love with you, Seth," I whisper against his lips. It's not even close to the extremity of what I feel for him, but he doesn't need me to elaborate any further. He kisses me fully as soon as the words leave my lips, and it's a kiss full of hunger and need. He smells amazing, like apple pie and manliness. And he kisses me like a man should. He kisses me like I'm the only woman worthy of being loved, or like I'm the reason he wakes up every morning.

We continue to kiss even after we hear the photographer giving out instructions on how we should all be situated, neither one of us wanting to break the moment. I love him so much. I need him to know. I want to show him with my hands and mouth just how much I love him. Seth's calloused hand rests against my cheek and he kisses me back with the same amount of vigor.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you two!" Brooke yells, clapping her hands next to our ears. I can feel Seth's anger before I even open my eyes to look at him. We both love the girl, but she sure as hell knows how to ruin a moment. And what a fucking moment that was. I could kiss him for days.

"Brooke, I swear to god, I'm going to smack you the next time you do that," Seth grumbles and grabs my hand. I look over to the group and I find almost everyone staring at us. Maybe we were kissing longer than I realized.

My gaze locks with familiar dark brown eyes, and I feel sad. He looks unhappy as he watches me, and I feel a little guilty for flaunting my relationship in front of him. I hadn't noticed him at all today; I've been so focused on Seth. Blake's holding Alec against his shoulder, and I think that's where a lot of the guilt is coming from. His hand rubs the baby's back and his arms bounce Alec while he cries.

I can tell he loves his nephew, and I feel remorseful that I could have given him his own child if I hadn't taken it away from him. I wonder if the guilt will ever go away entirely.

After a quick hair and makeup touch up, reluctantly done due to the Brookezilla's insistence, we survive the pictures. Brooke finally relents with her bitching and then it's time to party. I've been dying to have Seth wrap his arms around me and dance with me all day. Instead, Dad offers me his hand as soon as we finish eating, and I get up to dance with him.

"Did you do that on purpose?" I ask, holding on to his shoulders.

Dad lets out a low chuckle and flicks his eyes in Seth's direction, who is watching us with a serene look. He's not mad, but I can tell he wanted to be dancing with me already.

"Of course. He's about to have you all to himself as of tomorrow, gotta get my time in when I can."

I smile and we dance to the slow song a little longer before I ask him another question. "Dad, did you ever want to get married to Daddy?"

A forlorn smile tugs on his lips as he remembers Daddy. "Of course I did, Josie Bean. We both did, but it wasn't an option for us here. That's why we did the commitment ceremony. It wasn't an official marriage, but it was our way to declare ourselves to each other."

"Do you feel like you missed out? Or feel like it's unfair?"

"Your Daddy and I had everything a marriage between a man and woman could have, and what we had was more than I can say for a lot of the other married couples out there. I don't feel like we missed out in that sense, but it would've been nice to give your Daddy the wedding he wanted. He was my husband in every sense of the word." He looks down at me and gives me a small smile. My tough, bulky dad is a softy at heart. "I know how you feel about getting married, Josie, but if the opportunity ever comes up, I would hope you wouldn't pass up the chance to get married to someone you love." His eyes glance in Seth's direction and I peek over to see him talking animatedly to an older lady who looks like she could die from old age any minute.

I don't say anything else for the rest of the song, but I think about his words the whole time. Seth comes up as soon as the song ends and asks if he can take over. Dad gives me a kiss on the cheek and hands me over to Seth's care.

"I don't think we can do another wedding, Jos," Seth says, wrapping his arms around my waist. I lock my fingers behind his neck and smile up at him, swaying to the beat of the music.

"Why's that?"

"Because I feel like I haven't had one goddamn minute with you today."

"You're cranky . . . This infatuation with me isn't good for your mood," I deadpan.

He pulls me tighter and kisses the tip of my nose. "I was doomed the moment you punched me. Been cranky ever since."

"You sayin' I make you mean?" I ask, eyes wide.

He smiles and kisses my mouth. "I'm sayin' that you make me need you. It's kind of like when you're on your period and you're moody as shit 'til you get your favorite chocolate. You're my chocolate, Jos."

I laugh at his metaphor and pull on his neck so I can give him a little taste of his chocolate.

"Hey Seth, can you help me with something?" Brandon comes up next to us, and from the way Seth grips the back of my dress, I can tell he's irritated. I giggle and walk out of his embrace. Seth groans but he won't say no.

He leans forward and gives me a kiss on my cheek. "We're going home soon, Pussycat," he promises. I smile and nod my head excitedly. I'm ready to go.

Seth and Brandon walk away, and I start to go sit down with Dad when someone grabs my hand. This time when Blake pulls me to him, it's much gentler. He lets go once I'm facing him, and I look into his face to see a calmer version of him than I've been used to for the past nine months.

"We don't have much time before he comes back, but I really need to talk to you, Jo," he tells me, voice deep and hopeful. I swallow as a mixture of emotions washes over me. I don't want to do anything behind Seth's back, but I don't feel threatened by Blake right now. "Please . . . ," he continues, seeing the conflict going on in my head. I close my eyes and let out a breath.

"What do you want?" I ask, finally. We're in the middle of the dance floor, and I'm not sure if I want to be in the middle of everyone, or if I'd prefer we talk in private. For the sake of keeping Seth's trust, I opt for staying in front of everyone.

Blake steps closer to me, and I step back. I shake my head and I see his face deflate instantly. He looks so much like he used to, the same cropped dark brown hair and stubble along his jaw, but I see pain haunting him in his eyes.

"I wanted you to know how sorry I am. What you said to me the day Alec was born, that I reminded you of my father, it _killed_ me to hear that. I've never wanted you to look at me like that. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me, but I _never_ wanted to be like him."

There's sorrow laced in each word he speaks, and all the anger, guilt, and pain that he's been making me feel for months is numbed slightly after his admission. It doesn't make it okay, but it does help.

"One dance," he asks, holding out his hand charmingly.

"I can't." I shake my head. It's more than not wanting to hurt Seth; it's that I feel no desire to dance with him. I don't feel any pull toward him, and I feel none of the old feelings I used to have. He nods his head, and steps closer. I don't have any more room to step back, so I let him come.

"I don't know if I can forgive you for what you did. I don't know how to get over it," he says, his voice filled with emotion. My heart breaks for him and this whole situation. I feel terrible for taking away something that would've been so precious to him.

"I'm sorry for not telling you. For not telling you when I found out I was pregnant and for not even letting you in on my decision to get an abortion. I'm sorry for not telling you as soon as you came back. I shouldn't have let it get so far. You're right, I was selfish," I confess.

His eyes are pained as he looks down at me, an inch of space between us.

"I want to understand. I want to accept that you had your reasons. I'm not you, so I don't understand it the way you explain it. To me, I see it as you taking away my family."

"To me, I couldn't carry a baby for nine months, knowing that it would always remind me of the darkest day of my life." He nods his head, but I still see the suffering in his face.

"I just don't know how to get over it or get past it," he says softly and shakes his head. "I loved you so much . . . "

"I wonder a lot if we were ever really in love, Blake," I admit. "I feel like it was misguided and filled with so many lies. You were lying to me. I was lying to you. But mostly, I was lying to myself. What we had was more of me wanting to be in love than us actually being in love."

His hand reaches up to my face and there's an even more wounded look in his eyes. "No, Jo . . . Don't do that. I loved you more than anything. Please don't ever second guess a single moment we were together. I was so in love with you. Still love you, I'm just hurt." His tone is strangled with tormented emotion, and I close my eyes to stop the stinging. I hate admitting it to him, but what I felt with Blake was so dull in comparison to how I feel with Seth. It makes me question our whole relationship.

"You trying to fucking die?" Seth growls, pulling me away from Blake. His jaw is tense, and his hand grips my waist possessively.

"No," Blake says, his voice and demeanor resigned. "Just apologizing . . . Take care of her, Seth." He keeps his eyes on me as he backs away from us, and I feel a peace settle over me at his parting words. Apologies were made and we let go. _I_ let go—no longer feeling the burden of uncertainty and guilt for what I've done and what we've gone through.

I dread turning to look up at Seth. I can only imagine how bad that looked. When I do look, Seth's not looking at me angrily. He looks relieved.

"You okay?" Seth asks softly.

"Better than okay," I assure him and wrap my arms around his neck. "Are you mad?"

"I heard what you told him, Jos. So no, I'm not mad, I'm happy as hell. My only issue was the way he touched you. I can't stand when he touches you."

His arm wraps around my back and he lifts me up to kiss me. He holds me up with one arm and his other hand tangles in my hair, holding on to me tightly.

As we kiss and hold each other, I think about how much I love him.

Seth's not the fairy-tale prince that my stories told me I should love. He's the bad boy that everyone passes up because they think they can get better, or they stay only with the hope that they can change him. But he's so much more than that predetermined assumption, and he sure as hell doesn't need to be fixed. He's the best kind of love, because he's not wrapped in a perfect package. There's darkness to him, but he's full of more love than anyone I've ever known. I'll go the rest of my life trying to prove to him that I'm worthy of what he has to offer, because he can give me so much more than the tall, dark, and handsome that I thought I wanted when I was a little girl.

I told him I was so broken and never expected to feel repaired. He loved me anyway, and now I don't feel shattered. I feel complete, whole, and perfect. He's the Prince Charming camouflaged as a sexy rebel that I've needed the whole time.

"Time to take you home, pretty girl," Seth mumbles hoarsely against my mouth.

I moan lightly and nod my head. I'm _so_ ready to go.

We said goodbye to Alec earlier, so now we just bid farewell to a very drunk bride and a very horny groom. I kiss my dad on the cheek and tell him we'll be over for dinner tomorrow, and then we head outside to our cars.

"Meet me at the house," Seth says, tugging on a lock of my hair.

"Like _our_ house?" I ask, getting excited.

He grins and nods his head, holding up the house keys in his hand. "That's the one, Pussycat. Be careful driving."

# Chapter 37

### Seth

I pull into the driveway right behind Josie and make a mental note to talk to her about her driving. She was all over the fucking road. I don't understand how she hasn't been in an accident yet or pulled over for suspicion of drinking and driving.

She gets out of her car and lets out a tiny squeal as she looks at the house. It's a three-bedroom yellow house that has her dream kitchen, hardwood floors, and a back porch that overlooks a few acres of land. That porch was important to both of us. I wanted somewhere I could paint, sketch, or take pictures, and she wanted someplace she could sit in a rocking chair and read.

I come up behind her and pick her up in my arms.

"I have a surprise for you in there." I kiss her forehead, loving the childish excitement in her eyes.

Josie holds onto my neck tightly as I unlock the door and carry her over the threshold into our first home. I'll never forget this moment—the way her face lights up as we walk in, the love in her eyes as she looks up at me and her surprise when she sees her gift leaning up against the fireplace.

She gasps, and tears start escaping her pretty eyes as soon as she sees it. I put her down and she walks over to the framed painting to get a better look.

"Seth . . . ," she cries. "Oh my god . . . It's so beautiful." She sobs, sitting on the floor in front of it and crying into her hands. I knew it would make her emotional, but I also knew she would love it. I kneel down next to her and rub her back.

"I always loved that picture," I tell her.

I took one of my favorite pictures of her and her dads and painted it onto a canvas that she could save and look at every day. Her dads are looking at each other with a smile on their faces and a teenage Josie sits between them laughing candidly. It's so beautiful.

"Where did you find the picture?"

"I took it from one of your photo albums one night, a while ago. I finished it a few months ago, but once you agreed to move in with me, I held off on giving it to you until we found a place to hang it up."

She reaches out and touches the canvas daintily, tears still streaming down her perfect face.

"You will _never_ understand what this means to me," she whispers, her voice shaking.

I place two fingers against her chin and turn her face to me. " _You_ will never understand what _this_ means to me. The fact that you love me is something I never thought I'd be lucky enough to experience. This painting is nothing compared to how you make me feel when I wake up next to you every day."

She grabs the sides of my face and brings her mouth to mine, giving me a heated kiss. I kiss her back with the same passion, pull her to straddle my lap, and get lost in the moment with her. I run my tongue across her lips until she lets me into her mouth. She moans and grips me harder. I push myself up and keep her wrapped around me as I take her to what's going to be our bedroom. I already set up an air mattress earlier, so I lay her on it, my mouth never leaving hers.

The connection we have, the passion and ardor, is evident in every sweep of our tongues, every caress of our hands, and every moan or groan. I lie on my back and pull her on top of me. Her hair drapes around me, and the scent of her spearmint shampoo wafts over me as her hands pull my shirt out of my dress pants. As soon as she loosens it, her hands are on my abs.

Her soft hands on my hard skin scorch me and I let out a moan and kiss her harder. She unbuttons my vest and shirt so she can get better access to my chest, and her mouth moves to my stomach the instant my shirt is open. Oh fuck, her tongue is so hot, and her eyes too, looking at me while she licks her way up to my piercings. I start pulling down the zipper on the side of her dress, needing her naked, needing to feel her soft skin against mine.

She continues to turn me on while I unzip her and untie her sash. I need to taste her; the vanilla scent on her skin is becoming too tantalizing for me not to have my mouth on her.

"Don't move." I slide down between her legs until my face is right under her pussy. I slide her dress up to her waist and rip off the thong she has on.

"Told you to stop fucking wearing these," I say before pulling her hips down to my face.

"Oh . . . Sethy." She sighs my name like it's a sacred prayer. I lick her wet pussy and her throbbing clit, never getting enough of her sweet taste. I grip her hips tightly, not wanting her to move away, and once she lets go of her reserves, she starts grinding against my face the way I want her to.

There's nothing sexier to me than having my girl rub her pussy on my tongue so she can get off. "I'm gonna come," she says, grinding harder. She jerks and I feel her collapse onto the bed. I slide out from under her and take off my shirt and pants. My cock is hard and throbbing to be inside of her. Josie's still experiencing the euphoric aftereffects of her orgasm, so I slide her dress off for her.

"Look at me, Jos," I tell her as I slide up to her. I knead her breasts and wait for her to open her eyes. When she does, I brush her hair back and lean down to kiss her softly. "I love you so much," I whisper against her lips, and I slide my dick inside of her slicken cunt.

Her mouth parts open and she gasps. I lean my forehead against hers as I rock in and out of her. Josie is absolutely the only girl for me. No one else could ever live up to the standards she's set. She doesn't even understand what she's done. She consumes me, and I know I'll never love anyone else as fiercely as I love her.

My name passes her lips multiple times as I try to show her with my body how much I love her. How she owns every single part of me. Every time she whispers my name, she gives me another reason to breathe, another reason to be exactly who she wants and needs.

"I love you, Seth," she whimpers, a single tear falling from her eye. It's during these moments with her that my heart feels like it's going to explode. Her hips reach up to meet mine and we ride the emotions that are devouring us until we're both at the highest point of pleasure and come together. I hold her tightly as my body tenses, and her fingernails scratch my back as she shakes underneath me.

I brace myself over her and kiss her lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, and throat. I can't get enough of her.

"You're so gorgeous," I murmur. I bring my mouth back to hers and kiss her softly. "Welcome home, Pussycat." 

# Chapter 38

### Josie

"Is that everything?" Seth asks, wrapping his arms around my stomach and kissing my neck.

I look around the empty apartment and finally let it sink in that this will no longer be a place I call home. Getting this place meant so much to me a couple years ago, but now it's a relief to see it go. There are too many old memories that I don't want to remember, and I'm ready to say goodbye.

"I think so." I turn around in his arms and hold on to his shoulders. Even sweaty and tired from moving all day, Seth still looks incredibly handsome. "I'll do one last run-through in a minute."

"Are you procrastinating?" he asks, narrowing his eyes playfully. "Having second thoughts?"

"No way. Never been so sure of anything in my life." I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him.

"Good . . . I really would've hated to tie you up and kidnap you."

I laugh against his mouth, pull back, and raise my eyebrows. "Really?"

"No, that's a fucking lie. I would love to tie you up," he says seductively, bringing his mouth back down to my neck.

I move away and cringe. "I'm sweaty and gross . . . Don't do that."

He rolls his eyes and grabs my ass, pulling me back to him. "What the fuck do I care about that, Jos?" He tries to go for my neck again, but I pull out of his reach.

"Just wait 'til I take a shower."

He lets out an aggravated groan but stops trying to kiss me. "Fine. I'll take this last box down to your car. Hurry up and check one more time."

He walks out the door, and I slowly walk through every room to make sure I didn't leave anything, and to say goodbye to that part of my life. I had everything packed and ready to go a couple weeks ago, so all my belongings have been ready for the move. I look in my closet one last time, and something catches my eye.

In the back corner, right underneath the note Blake left for me when he painted my room, there's a small rectangular tin container. I look at the words painted on the wall that I had forgotten about: _I love you ALWAYS, Jo._ I had thought it was so sweet at the time, and it was, but now it doesn't have the same effect on me. I pick up the tin and see a note attached to the top.

I tell myself to leave it, knowing that it's most likely something I don't want to open, but the nosey part of me is too intrigued to resist. I open the note, and my fears are confirmed. Blake must still have a key to the apartment and must've dropped off the tin sometime after our talk last night and before we got here this morning.

_In case you ever forget how much I loved you.—Blake_

_Fuck!_ Why couldn't I have just walked back out of the closet?

"You done?" I hear Seth calling into my room. I shove the small tin into my back pocket and decide that I'll tell Seth later. I won't open it.

"Yep," I say as I walk out of my closet. One look at my man is all it takes for me to look forward to our future and forget about that strange note.

We walk down to our cars, and he opens my door for me.

"Did you switch your mail over to the new house?" he asks.

"Um, nah . . . I use the Internet to pay all the bills, so I have no need to."

"Okay," he kisses the top of my head. "Go home and take a shower, I'll unpack your car tomorrow. I've got to do something real quick, so I'll meet you at your Dad's for dinner, okay?"

"Okay." I grin up at him and give him one last kiss before I leave.

When I get to the house, I put the tin in my bedside table, ready to forget I ever saw it. Then I get ready for dinner tonight.

I never thought I'd ever feel so happy in my life. 

# Chapter 39

### Seth

I pull up to the cemetery and take a deep breath before I get out of my truck. I grab the daisies I brought with me and start walking toward Will's grave.

Josie's only been to the cemetery a few times to see her dad. I think it's too hard for her. I've come a couple times with Tony, but this is the first time I've come by myself.

I squat down in front of Will's tombstone and place the flowers in the metal vase. I run my hands through my hair and lean my elbows on my thighs, reverent as I kneel in the solemn setting and in front of a man I respected immensely. It's a beautiful day. It's the beginning of March, but it already feels like spring.

"She misses you." I know he can't hear me, but it brings a little comfort to talk anyway. "She's so strong, but she thinks about you a lot."

I take a moment and reflect on everything Will and I talked about when I was away. I miss him, too.

"We all wish you were here for this," I say into the empty air. A light gust of wind hits me as I speak, which makes me feel like maybe he actually can hear this. I take one last deep breath and stand up to leave. "Wish me luck."

# Chapter 40

### Josie

It's dark outside by the time I get to my dad's house for dinner, which makes the sight even stranger when I get out of my car.

Seth's truck is here, but all lights in the house are off. I walk up to the front door tentatively, but go in anyway. I turn on the lights and call for my dad and Seth, but no one answers.

_So weird_ , I think.

I walk to the kitchen, where there's no food prepared, and start to get nervous. My heart beats fast and I think of every possible terrible scenario that could have happened. Before I get too worked up, I get a text from Seth telling me to meet him out back.

They must want to eat outside, since it's really nice outside today. I slide open the glass door that leads to the backyard and I gasp.

The tree in the backyard is covered in twinkle lights that camouflage the bark on the tree, and pillar candles are scattered across the lawn. There's a large blanket unfurled where Seth and I used to lie and look up at the stars. On top of it sits an arrangement of Chinese food, Mexican food, and some other takeout that we love.

But the most breathtaking sight is Seth standing next to the tree, illuminated by the lights and the stars, turning around to face me. He wears old jeans and a fitted black Johnny Cash T-shirt, his tattoos and lean muscled arms in full view. His blond hair is slicked back like it was yesterday, but I like this look better on him than the tux. I love him just like this.

And he smiles at me!

Ah, that smile that gives me butterflies and warms my insides, directed right at _me_. He looks at me like he's been waiting his whole life to get a chance to see me.

I walk to him, confused but completely enthralled. The feeling that's been nagging at me for weeks attacks my chest full force. I look at him and get lost in his eyes again as this emotion takes over, and I finally realize what I've been so hesitant to admit to myself. I stop in my tracks as understanding strikes me. _Oh my god. How did it take me this long to figure this out?_

It's _him._

He's exactly who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want the future. I want the wedding. I want the marriage. I want the bickering. I want to take care of him when he's sick. I want the laughs at three in the morning when we can't go to sleep. I want the apple pie and whipped cream in the bed. I want the outrageous illegal dates at a playground in the middle of the night. I want the crazy-ass tattoo stories. I want the silly sex, the sweet sex, and the rough sex. I want the babies—the fighting over how to discipline, the laughs, and the memories. I want the nose kisses, the hand holding, the arms wrapped around me every single night.

I want him. I want it all. With _him._

I've never seen such a clear image of my future before, but I see it all perfectly now. In every image, Seth's there, consuming me and my life.

Tears stream down my cheeks by the time I get to him. I don't have any idea how I'll be able to explain the future I want so badly, but he doesn't seem put off by my crying. He smiles lightly and secures his arms around me. His hand reaches up and wipes my tears away.

"I thought you didn't do romantic," I say, voice thick with the intense emotions I feel for him.

"I don't, Pussycat. We used to lie under the stars all the time growing up." He takes my hand and pulls me to the blanket.

We lie next to each other and look up at the stars. This time when I look at them, I don't wish for a forever friendship with Seth; I beg for a forever romance with him.

"When I was gone, I still looked up at the stars every single night and thought of you," he admits, rubbing circles into my hand. I turn my head to look at him and admire his beautiful profile, lit perfectly in the moonlight—his full lips, strong cheekbones, crooked nose, and soft eyes. He turns his head to look at me, too, reaching his other hand out to trace my jaw. "I have a secret to tell you," he whispers.

"What is it?" I whisper back.

"I stopped wishing for us to be best friends when I was fifteen. Instead, I wished every night that you would love me one day." He tucks my stray hair behind my ear and looks at me adoringly. "And now you do . . . So tonight I'm wishing for something different."

My heart pounds in my chest. I'm positive he can hear it, but if not, I know he can hear how heavily I'm breathing. Butterflies flutter rapidly in my stomach, and I still have tears falling from my eyes.

"Josie, I know that we've only been in a relationship for six months, but it only took one second into it for me to know without a doubt that I want you for the rest of my life. I won't go another minute of my life without you in it. I want you stubborn and I want you happy. I want you angry and I want you laughing. I want the good and the bad and everything in between, with _you._ I want to love you for the rest of my time on Earth and then eternities more after that. You say I saved your life, but it was you who saved me the moment you told me you loved me."

He leans his head against mine and looks deeply into my eyes. His blue-green depths swallow and consume me. After a minute of increasing energy and love in one look, he finally speaks words that take my breath away.

"Marry me, Josie."

His words, abundant with longing and love, wash over me beautifully, making me feel loved in the most ultimate way and thrilling me to my core. It takes no time at all for me to know exactly what I want.

Get married to Seth Montgomery?

"Absolutely." 

# Epilogue

#  

# The End 
# Acknowledgements

The process of thanking everyone this time around is very different than with my first book. I have met so many people who inspire me and encourage me in ways they will never understand.

First and foremost, I have to thank my husband, Stephen, who understood my need to lie in bed for hours while I tried to type out this story. He never complained about my lack of parenting, dinner, and other "wifely" duties, and instead gave me every tool possible to make sure I was successful.

To my daughter, Alexis—I love you to death, girlie. You are annoying as hell sometimes, but you inspire me in more ways than you will ever comprehend. I look forward to our snuggle times every day!

Huge thanks to my momma for watching Alexis for me so I could get in a good chunk of writing (and sleep). Thank you to my whole family: Ben, Hayley, Alaina, Bonnie, Jake, Heather, Wayne, Amber, Cindy, Hilary, and Timmy. Your support means more to me and encourages me every time I write.

I've met a lot of freaking awesome people and have forged some pretty amazing friendships, and I want to thank all of them for being here for me and becoming really great friends of mine.

Echo Reed . . . Girl, I really don't know what I would do without you. You lift me up when I'm feeling really down about myself, and you encourage and inspire my writing when I'm doubtful of my own talent. Thank you for creating an awesome blog for me and being the best beta reader I have! Your friendship is extremely special to me . . . so don't fuck it up. (I really don't want to lose my gossip partner!)

Rebecca Pau . . . I am so lucky to have a friend like you. Thanks for the dirty pictures while I was writing, because they gave me a good laugh when I needed them. And _thank you_ for making swag and teasers without asking for too many sexual favors in return!

Jamie Carollo . . . Thank you for being the best supporter I could have ever found. Your encouragement and faith in my writing is what made me not want to give up. I am incredibly grateful for your support and for the awesome blog tour you've got in the works! You mean the world to me—as a fan and a friend.

HUMONGOUS thank you to my Pussycat Street Team! You girls lift me up in more ways than you know. I'm so lucky to have your support, and even if we don't convince anyone to read my books, I know I have the best group of friends in all of you! So thanks to you and all the bloggers who have been with me along the way: Gabriella Bieler (Love you so much!), Raquel Auriemma (LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU! Thanks so much for everything you do!), Susan Leggio, Rene Beyer, Amanda Shmolke, Ebony McMillan, Irene Rosa, Caitlyn Flores, Jennifer Newton, Telissa Kuhlman, Mandy Herrera, Retta Rusaw, Mindy Nabors, Shelley Custer, Cynthia DeDear, April Stinson-Scott, Summer Clark, Lisa Seich, Christye Cagle, Julie Bourke, Margaret Smith, Alicia Carmical, Theresa Tunnel, Marie Tudgay, Dawn Cooper, Stacey Hole, Tabitha Holmes, Tana Wheeler (Love you, lady!), Kerri McLaughlin, Kristen Hinkle, Desiree Griggs, Cassandra Salamone, Erika Van Eck.

Most importantly, I am incredibly grateful to the readers. I've written this story because it speaks to me, but to hear you tell me that it's spoken to you makes me feel like I've accomplished something spectacular in this world. YOU all are most important.

Also, I NEED to thank the blogs that have supported my work through the years. I really would be nowhere if you didn't share this book to your readers. Thank you: Between the Covers Reviews, Secretly Adorkable Readers, The Biblio-Files: Confessions of a Book Whore, My Kindle Journey, Midwest Book Lover, Book Junky Girls, Angie's Reading Dungeon, NA Reader Extraordinaire, Ink Berry Books, My Book Inspired Ramblings, AVC Proofreading, MI Bookshelf, Chicks Controlled by Books, The Pleasure of Reading Today, 556 Book Chicks, Lost in Romance Books, Summer's Book Blog, Roc n' Read, Six Chicks and their Love of Books, Bad Girl Books,  and Her Juicy Reads.

# About the Author

#

Victoria Klahr lives in Virginia Beach, Virginia with her dreamy husband of four years and their two beautiful daughters. She is a self-proclaimed book-nerd who likes to sniff books before she reads them and fantasizes about book boyfriends. She is the author of the Promises, Promises series, including That's a Promise, That's a Lie, and That's a Relief. She writes happily-ever-afters one heartache and tragedy at a time, and won't apologize for making you cry.

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