Off Chance (19 page)

“You’re so responsive,” he says, while his lips graze my skin. It causes a ripple of pleasure to shoot through me. I’ve never been this reactive with a man before, but with the barest of touches or a few sensual words, my body almost explodes in pleasure.

I remember the dream I had about Flynn—the orgasm that fired through me with him just kissing behind my knee, and I realize that I’m responsive to Flynn because there is a deeper connection there than any I’ve ever felt before.

It is born of a relationship that was forged under very unique circumstances, and then cemented due to the fact that Flynn is a genuine soul. He’s been about the most perfect friend I could ever wish for.

And that thought douses me with cold water. Because it all comes flooding back to me. Flynn is my friend, and that is all I want him to be.

Right?

Yes, right. That is all he can be. If we make this sexual, then friendship is excluded. I think that is the way things work, at least to my limited knowledge.

Even though Flynn’s mouth is working at my nipple and I want nothing more than him to fuck me into oblivion, the voice in my head is now screaming so loud, I can’t ignore it.

Grabbing Flynn’s head, I gently push him away.

“I’m sorry,” I say, as I scrabble up from his lap. Grabbing my t-shirt, I hold it in front of me. I look down into Flynn’s confused expression. “I can’t do this.”

Then I turn and run for my bedroom.

I’m sitting in the driveway outside of my parents’ house. We’re having an impromptu family dinner to which I invited Rowan, but she declined. It’s been a tiny bit awkward between us for the last few weeks, and I’m awash in frustration.

Closing my eyes, I lean back against the headrest and think of the kiss we shared in the kitchen. It was filled with as much passion as the first kiss but with added sexual intensity. There is no doubt in my mind that we were headed for a full-blown fuck-a-thon when Rowan pulled away from me.

When I think about the look she had on her face, my stomach twists into a painful knot. It was filled with longing and sadness but even worse, there was fear.

I followed her back to her bedroom to find her sitting on her bed, hands by her side, head hanging down. She had put the wet t-shirt back on and didn’t look up when I walked in.

“Rowan... what’s wrong?” I had asked.

She shook her head, refusing to meet my eyes. Not to be deterred, I stepped right up to her and knelt at her feet. Placing my hands on her knees, I asked again, “Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something to upset you?”

I held my breath while I waited for her answer, because honestly, the only thing I could think of—the most terrible thought that was running through my head—was that Rowan had suffered from some type of sexual trauma.

Her eyes met mine and they were still sad, but there was no longer fear there. I’m assuming because there wasn’t an ounce of sexual tension between us right at the time. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Did I misread your signals?” I asked, wanting to know fully why she pulled away.

Again, she shook her head. “I wanted you as much as you wanted me.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Rowan brought her hands up and placed them over mine. She looked at me with such sincerity I knew that whatever she was getting ready to lay on me would be a belief so rooted into her very fiber, that there would be no swaying her from it.

“Flynn,” she said, her voice filled with resolve. “I can’t risk my friendship with you. Turning this into something sexual would do that. It would ruin our friendship and frankly, you’re the first real friend I’ve ever had. I don’t want to lose that.”

“But it wouldn’t—” I started to insist but she cut me off.

“It would. Things always change when sex is involved.”

They get better,
I wanted to shout at her.
It would be fucking fantastic if we could build this relationship higher.

But Rowan wasn’t having any of it. She just leaned forward and laid a very chaste kiss on my cheek, and murmured, “I’m sorry. But I can’t.”

Rowan woke up the following morning, and greeted me with exuberance. She chattered away about being excited to start working for Nix, and that we were out of laundry detergent but that she’d pick some up on the way home, and that she appreciated me looking out for Capone during the day while she was gone. It’s like nothing had ever transpired between us and the kiss was forgotten.

The only small measure of satisfaction I got was from throwing the friend card out and slapping her in the face with it. We had a small argument the next morning when she got ready to leave. I grabbed my keys off the counter and tossed them at her.

“Take my car,” I had said.

She caught them deftly and then tossed them right back. “No way. I’m taking public transit.”

“Rowan,” I warned, tossing the keys back to her, “as your
friend
, I am offering you my car and saving you forty-five minutes on your commute. Don’t be an ass—be a friend. Just take the damn car.”

She caught the keys and opened her mouth to argue, but then she snapped it shut. “Fine. But I’m filling your car up with gas each week.”

“Fine,” I muttered and turned away to go take a shower.

Opening my eyes, I look out the windshield to my parents’ house. I’m looking forward to seeing everyone so I need to shake off my morose thoughts. I need to accept things the way they are between Rowan and me.

She’s absolutely right. We have a great friendship, and while I’ve known the joys of close friends throughout my life, I’m honored that I’m her one true friend.

The only problem is, I want to be more than friends, and I know she does too... she’s just too scared to take the risk.

“How’s it going with your new roommate, Flynn?”

I swallow the last bite of apple pie before I answer my mom. “Going great. We get along well.”

And I want to get her naked and worship her body for hours on end,
but I don’t voice those thoughts out loud.

“Next time we get together, you have to bring her.”

I smile as I relish the faint Irish lilt my mom still bears, even though she’s lived in the States for the last twenty-seven years. Nora Caldwell, with her fiery red hair and vivid green eyes, is forever gracious and has always opened up our family home to my friends.

“I will, Mom,” I assure her, hoping she drops the subject.

“Nix told us all about how you met her.” This from Nick Caldwell, my dad.

I glare over at Nix, who is staring hard at his empty plate. Emily is sitting next to him and tries to suppress a grin.

“He did, did he?”

“It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?” my mom asks.

Still glaring at Nix, I answer, “We’re just friends, Mom. Nothing more.”

“Oh,” my mom says, clearly disappointed I haven’t found the love of my life yet. Although who knows if that’s Rowan. She won’t give me the time of day to see if we can have more than a friendship.

Nix raises his head up and catches my glare, which is still aimed his way. He does nothing more than give me a smirk before he says, “Well... Emily and I have some news.”

Everyone goes silent and turns to stare at them. They had gotten engaged a few months ago while visiting Linc and Ever in Phoenix. I assume we’re getting ready to hear about their wedding plans, and I’m not disappointed.

“We’ve decided against a big, formal wedding. In fact, we only want our immediate family attending. And we want to do it on December 25th because Linc only has a small break in his season where he can come.”

Everyone breaks into talk around the table, excited that the date has been set and it’s a little less than three months away. Nix holds his hands up to get everyone’s attention. “There’s one more detail I need to mention. We’re going to have it in the U.S. Virgin Islands... St. John to be exact.”

“Oh, a destination wedding,” my mom says as she clasps her hands to her chest, her eyes getting misty.

“Don’t cry, Aunt Nora,” Nix says as he steps from his chair and gives her a hug.

I smile at Nix’s uncharacteristic display of affection. It comes so easy to him nowadays and it’s a damn sight better than the grumpy-ass attitude he wore after returning from the war.

Once Nix rose up from his chair, it was like open season. We all stand up, pushing our chairs back, and hugs and kisses are passed around in congratulations.

I step up to Nix and we clasp hands, pulling each other in for a manly hug/back-slap combo.

“I’m happy for you, man.”

Nix looks over at Emily, who is standing there with her arm wrapped around Uncle Hank’s waist. “I’m a lucky guy.”

The tenderness in his eyes pangs my heart, and I feel envious. I want to look at someone like that.

Emily glances over at Nix and gives him a smile. It is full of love and devotion.

“Emily is a lucky girl,” I tell him.

“She’s my everything,” he says, and my green-eyed monster starts roaring. I’m still able to pull out a happy smile for Nix as I head over to Nix’s dad and Emily to give my congratulations.

Emily steps into a hug. After giving her a squeeze, I turn to Uncle Hank and clap him on the back. “You’re losing your babies,” I tell him.

Uncle Hank chuckles but then looks over at Emily. “Nope. I’m gaining a daughter and a damn fine one at that.”

It tickles me but Emily blushes a pretty pink over the compliment. She gives him another hug. “And I’m gaining another dad.”

“Okay, you two,” I say. “You’re making me sick. Stop it already.”

Uncle Hank chuckles. “You’ll understand it one day, Flynn. When you find that someone. Everything changes.”

God, I hope so. I really do.

“So, Emily... have you already talked to Linc and Ever?”

“Yeah, we had to find out when Linc could make it before we finalized the date. He has a game against the Sabres on the 23rd and he’ll fly out that night to St. John. Then he has to be back in Phoenix on the 28th.”

I nod in understanding. Linc’s schedule is crazy during the NHL season. “What about Renner? Have you talked to her?”

Emily shakes her head. “We were going to call her in the morning. It’s past midnight there.”

My sister, Renner, lives in Dublin with her rock star boyfriend, Cillian. “You don’t give my sis enough credit,” I admonish Emily. “She’s living the rock-star life. She’ll be up.”

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I hold it up to Emily and ask, “Do you mind?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Go for it. She can yell at you for waking her up.”

I hit Renner’s name from my Favorite list where she resides at the top because my sister is my most favorite person in the world. I talk to her a few times a week in addition to almost daily texts because, hey, I’m her brother and I worry about her. I don’t know this Cillian dude very well and although he seems to make her happy, it’s my duty as an older and over-protective brother to make sure she stays that way.

The phone rings four times before Renner answers. Her voice is heavy with sleep. “This better be good, Flynn, or I’m going to fly back to Jersey and murder you.”

“What the hell are you doing sleeping? Shouldn’t you be out partying with Cillian and his band or something?”