Straddling the Edge (6 page)

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Authors: Julie Prestsater

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BOOK: Straddling the Edge
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Mel continues the story. “Apparently, she saw some guy at the brewery
and got all hot and bothered by him. She didn’t realize he works with us, and she wasn’t expecting to see him again.”

“Or that we’d know him,” I add.

“How could she not know him?” Ty asks. “We all work together.”

“Right,” I tell him. “Like you know all the teachers on campus.”

“It’s a big school,” Matty jumps in. “I still don’t know half the people there. And all the buildings are spread out. I could essentially stay in our building and never have to leave for anything else but maybe a parent conference.”

“True,” Tyler agrees. “But we all know Dean.”

Mel smacks Ty on the leg. “Yeah, because we went to school with him. Summer didn’t go there. I have no idea where she went to high school, and it’s not like Chase was going to introduce them. I’m sure they’ve made it a point to stay out of each other’s way.”

I nod.
“Yeah, it sounds like we don’t know much about her at all.”

My hubby squeezes my shoulder. “But it sounds like you guys want to get to know her.” He looks at Ty. “That’s weird, dude, right?”

“Not for Shelly, but for this one,” he boots his wife in the ass, “definitely weird.”

Mel whips around and clicks her tongue at my brother. “What’s that supposed to mean? Your sister’s a saint, and I’m the bitch.”

“That’s exactly what he meant,” I throw out, adding fuel to the fire. “Saint.” I tap a finger on my chest. “Bitch.” I point to her.

“Oh, I can be bitchy, all right. You want me to get bitchy up in this bitch?”

The four of us start busting up at Melly going all ghetto rap star again with her words, the swivel of her neck, and the snap of her fingers. She should have gone into acting. I would pay ridiculous movie ticket prices to see her on the big screen. She’s a total drama queen. And I mean that in the best way.

“All right, a
ll right, you’re not a bitch any more than I’m a saint. And yes, I think I’d like to get to know Summer better.” I’m not lying either. The thought doesn’t make me sick to my stomach like it did before when I was trying to be the bigger person and remain friends with my cheating, lying, son of a bitch ex and who I thought was the woman who stole him from me. It was all a lie. He told her we’d broken up. And I believe her. That’s all that matters. “You know, she doesn’t seem to have any friends or anyone really to talk to about this stuff. I’ve never seen her with anyone other than Chase. I’ve never seen her hang out with anyone from work. Maybe she doesn’t have any friends. You think?”

Everyone seems to mull this over.

“You could be right. You’d think she would have mentioned her friends in conversation at some point. We’ve been around her enough that she might talk about what a friend had said or something she did with another group of friends.” Mel digs into her Cheetos bag again, still deep in thought.

“Or maybe we never made her feel comfortable enough to share?” I know on the surface it seemed like we were all going to make a go of being friends and moving on. But really, I don’t think anyone truly believed it. I know Mel never did. Hell, Ty and Matty didn’t
even want to go along with it, so I can just imagine how Summer felt.

“No one expected you to be friends with her, babe. In fact, most people thought it was odd that you even tried. So don’t beat yourself up about not making her feel wanted.”

I look up at my adorable husband and he presses his lips to my forehead. “Thank you, baby.”

“Okay, stop with the lovey
dovey shit already.” Mel throws a crunchy Cheetos at me. I catch it and pop it into my mouth. “I wonder what they’re doing right now. We should call her.”

“No.” Tyler and Matt
shout at the same time.

“Why not?” Mel and I cry out in unison.

“That was scary,” I say, laughing. The others nod in agreement, chuckling too.

“Because you’ll ruin it for Dean if they’re still together,” Ty explains.

Matty laughs as he says, “Yeah, there’s nothing worse than friends who text constantly and won’t leave you alone when you’re trying to get busy.”

“I’m just going to assume you’re not talking about me,” Mel tells him, a hand pressed to her chest as if she’s truly offended.

Tyler wears a pained expression on his face. “And I’m just going to assume you’re not talking about
getting busy
with my sister.”

“Honey,” Mel pats his leg, “Too late. Baby Noah is proof they’re
getting busy
.”

“It’s okay, big brother,” I joke. “We’ve only done it once. Just to procreate. That’s it, right?” I tilt my head toward Matty and flash him an exaggerated wink.

“That’s right, baby. And we didn’t even like it.” He chuckles, winking right back.

I dig my elbow into his side. “Now let’s not take it that far.”

 

Home sweet home.

Matty and I decided to pack up Noah after he and Mia woke for a late night snack. It’s good to be home, in my own room, with Noah in his own crib. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending the night at Mel’s. It’s always fun waking up with my husband by my side and then eating cereal for breakfast with my best friend. It’s really the best of both worlds. But I really love my own family time as well.

“I could watch him sleep all night,” Matty says, looking down at
our baby boy, whose sleeping comfortably on his back in some cute footie jammies.

I gaze at my husband watching my son, than glance down at Noah. His chubby cheeks make me want to reach out and wake him up so I can eat them. But I don’t, of course, because I’m not a
dumbass. “I could watch you watch him all night,” I tell my hunky husband. “It’s so sweet.”

“Are you gonna get all mushy on me, babe?” He turns around and reaches out to slide his arms around my waist.

“Hell no,” I say, placing a kiss on his bare muscular chest. “I’m gonna get all naughty on you. Noah will be out till the morning, so let’s take advantage and go get naked.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room like a mad man, my feet barely making contact with the floor as we move to our bedroom in a flash.

As soon as he releases my hand, I whip off my nightie and slide down my panties and jump on the bed. My eyes find Matty frozen where he stands just a few feet away. “What are you waiting for, silly? Hurry up.” He starts chuckling, and I suddenly get self-conscious. Do I have throw-up on my chest? A diaper attached to my hair? “What is it?” I ask, taking a sheet from our unmade bed and pulling it over me.

He yanks the sheet back. “Don’t do that. You’re beautiful. I’d take a picture if I could guarantee no one else would
ever see it but me.” Working with a bunch of oversexed teenagers teaches you a little something about what pictures should never be taken. It’s scary.

“Why are you just standing there?”

Slowly, he kneels down on the edge of the bed and claws his way toward me. “It just dawned on me that Noah is conked out for the night,” he crosses his fingers, “so for once, I don’t have to rush. We can take our time.” He lifts my leg and begins kissing his way from my heel to my core. Son of bitch, slow is always good … right up until that point where I lose my patience and want him inside me to finish the job that only he can.

With his face between my thighs and my hands fisted
in his hair, he gazes up at me with his eyes glazed over and I murmur, “Oh God, I love you.”

 

My heart is still racing, practically thumping right out of my chest when Matty and I are finished making love for the first time in months without interruption or having to pound it out in less than a couple of minutes. “Holy son of a … fuck me,” I tell him, completely breathless.

“That was amazing, Shel. I love you so much.” He curls his arms around me and pulls
me into him so he can spoon me—my favorite way to sleep.

“Damn, I hope
Summer was as lucky tonight.” I smile at the thought. The poor girl could use some good loving. Once I was with Matt, I discovered what I was missing for all those years with Chase who was a very unskilled lover in comparison.

“Dean could never be as lucky as me, but I hope things worked out for him tonight.”

I tilt my head back and kiss the bottom of Matty’s chin. “You’re too good to me.”

“You deserve it,” he says.

“Summer deserves to be happy too. You think we should tell her Dean and Chase have history? That they have been each other’s worst enemy since we were in high school?” I know they’ve only just met, but I saw the way she looked at him, and he was no innocent bystander to her stare. His eyes lit up like neon lights in Vegas when he saw her. When he shook her hand, the heat between the two of them could have melted glaciers in Alaska.

“Do you even know what the story is?”

“I don’t have a clue. Chase would never tell me. We were just teenagers and I didn’t think much of it. But it’s lasted years.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as you think if he never mentioned it to
Summer. You said she didn’t know who he was before you introduced them.”

He has a point. Or … “Or maybe it’s so bad that he didn’t tell her so she wouldn’t ask any questions.”

“That could be it too, I guess.” He tightens his arms around me and kisses my cheek. “Okay, enough about Summer and Dean. I have something else I’d like to talk about.”

The hard press of his topic of conversation is poking between my cheeks right now. “Talk? Really just talk?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, nipping a trail down my neck to my shoulder. His hand traces the length of my body, his touch creating a sizzle of heat along my skin. Reaching between my legs, he lifts my leg and hooks it back over his own. “Now, shhh. And just listen. Let our bodies do the talking.”

 

Chapter 7

Summer

 

 

 

When Dean is settled on my love
seat with a beer in one hand and the remote for the TV in the other, I excuse myself to get more comfortable. It was a scorching hot day, but as soon as the sun went down, the evening turned cool and I haven’t been able to shake the chill since the graduation ceremony. The only thing that has warmed me up is Dean’s hands on me, but I’m not about to ask him to touch me, no matter how fantastic the idea sounds.

I return to the living room wearing a pair of black yoga pants, a hot pink Adidas hoodie, and my hair pulled back in a ponytail. I even decided to wash the makeup off my face. I thought better of it at first and then decided if Chase hadn’t made Dean run for cover, my naked face sure as heck wouldn’t.

“Wow,” he says when I plop myself on the couch next to him.

“What? You want me to sit somewhere else? I can bring a chair from my dining table over.”

He places his hand on my thigh to stop me. “No. I didn’t say whoa, I said wow. As in, you look great all dressed up at work, but in a sweatshirt with your hair pulled back in a sloppy mess, and no makeup,” he slides his index finger along the curve of my face, “you’re stunning.”

Suddenly, I feel very naked. Not just my face either. “Thank you. I think. Most guys would think I’m a mess.”

“I’m not most guys.”

“Definitely not,” I say aloud before I can stop myself.

He chuckles and the roughness in his throat makes me shiver.

“You’re cold?”

Oh my. He caught that. “Yeah, it was cold tonight. I can feel it in my bones. That’s why I changed.”

He sets his beer on a coaster, rests his arm on the back of the sofa, and says, “Come here, I’ll warm you up.” My brows furrow, and I give him a weak smile. “Come on. I’m not trying to put the moves on you. I’m just being friendly.” He pats his chest, marking the spot where I should snuggle into him.

“Fine, I guess I’ll take advantage of your friendship.” I scoot closer, so our bodies are touching and rest my head in the crook of his shoulder. I fumble around trying to get comfortable, not sure where I should put my hands. Dean curves one arm along my back and around my waist. With his free hand, he takes my fidgety palm and stretches my arm out across his stomach before resting his own on top of mine. At last, I’m warming up in his arms.

I’m hoping the TV is loud enough so that he can’t hear my thoughts racing like they’re in Daytona. What the hell am I doing?

“Is this weird?” he asks, with a soft chuckle.

I chuckle right back, and his embrace tightens. “Which part?” I laugh again, this time a snort comes out. “The one where you had
to save me from my ex-boyfriend? Or the part where I’m sitting here in your arms and we just met a couple of hours ago?”

“I don’t want to talk about Chase, so I guess the being in my arms part.” He lifts his wrist and glances at his watch. “It’s been more than a couple hours so we’re
all good.” I lift my head to peek at his smiling eyes. “Rest your head back down. We’re past the just met stage, so it’s not weird after all.”

“You’re funny,” I tell him.

“You warming up yet?” His hand runs up and down my arm, setting off sparks along the way, and making it hard for me to think about anything else.

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