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  “Done.” Jason shifted his weight, loading a box into the back of his pickup. “I broke his nose.”

  I hadn’t asked Jason anything about that night, and hearing the extent of Jack’s injuries forced nervous tears to my eyes. “Does he know where I am? He knows I’m at my mom and dad’s, doesn’t he? That’s why you want me to move in,” I realized, my voice raspy from my damaged throat.

  “I want you to move in because I am your best friend, I love you, and I’m not leaving your side until I know you’re safe.”

  Scott listened to the two of us, balancing another box on the hinged truck gate. “Can you remind me again why the two of you aren’t together?” he asked, receiving a silencing glare from Jason.

  Scott Brewer was the complete opposite in appearance from Jason; two inches shorter, dark hair instead of blond, and hazel eyes. He and his wife, Emily, had been married for over three years, and their two-year-old twin daughters had him wrapped around their little fingers.

  “Just move the boxes,” Jason snapped. Scott shrugged, sending me a quick smirk before climbing up in the back of the pick up.

  It was almost nine PM by the time Jason and I dropped to the couch in his living room, thoroughly exhausted. He’d insisted on leaving my bed in my parent’s garage, assuring me that the bed in the spare bedroom was super comfortable.

  I knew the real reason; I knew that he didn’t want any reminders of Jack in his house.

  “Thanks. Hey-” I turned to him as he handed me a cold beer. “Did you ever write back to Carissa?”

  He stared at me blankly for a moment before taking a long sip of beer. “I didn’t plan… on talking to her again, truthfully.”

  “Why?” I demanded, pulling away from him. “Like you said, nothing is going to happen between us. I refuse to be a burden in your life, Jason-”

  “You’re never a burden, that’s fucking dumb,” he interrupted, but I pushed on.

  “You’d better write to her and apologize. Tell her you lost the signal and it won’t happen again. And then say something sexy.”

  “Maybe,” he snapped, taking another long drink before sending me an irritated, sideways glance. “I’m going to bed. You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I replied softly, stiffening at his tone. “Goodnight.”

  That night, I curled in the unfamiliar bed, unable to stop the tears from slipping to the pillow. I must have cried for hours before Jason came in, lifting the blanket and gathering me in his arms.

  “I’m just here to hold you. Close your eyes,” he whispered against my ear.

  I held his hand, forcing the tears to stop long enough to fall asleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jason

  Sunday morning, I found Sandy on her knees, gripping the toilet.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, kneeling beside her. She bumped her glasses further up her nose, shaking her head.

  “I don’t know. I just got dizzy. I thought I was sick, but… I’m okay.”

  I felt her forehead with the back of my hand, and her skin was cool and clammy. “What else? Any other symptoms?”

  “My heart won’t stop pounding,” she breathed, and only then did I notice that she was gasping quick half-breaths.

  “Hey,” I stood quickly, reaching for the clean washcloths near the sink. Soaking the rag in cold water, I moved back to her side. “Just breathe. Inhale. Slowly, San,” I murmured.

  “I’m choking, I can’t breathe,” she cried, the fear rising in her voice

  Her hands were shaking. I had seen her have a panic attack months ago, at work, and I’d managed to sit her down in my office until she could breathe evenly. That was when she’d told me that Jack had hit her.

  Right after he hit her, she’d called off work for three days with the flu. I knew something was wrong when she wouldn’t answer my calls. When she’d finally come into work, she’d gone heavy on the makeup, but I noticed the dark circle under her one eye.

  I’d met Jack in the parking lot of his office. He’d reached to shake my hand, and I’d grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him into the side of his Audi.

  “Whoa- whoa Jason, wait-”

  “You hit Sandy?” I’d growled, all the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I reared my fist back. “I hit you.”

  “Wait,” he stammered, covering his face. “It wasn’t like that. We were both arguing, and she-”

  “She’s a woman. She’s better than you. You don’t deserve her. I could go on for fucking ever, but instead, I’ll just make you a promise, since we are about to have an audience.” I watched as several people walked out of the insurance office, reaching for their cell phones as soon as they saw me pinning their boss to his car. “I’ll break your fucking neck and have you arrested if you every lay a hand on her again. Are we clear?”

  He’d nodded and forced a “yes,” and I made sure to shove him as hard as I could against his car.

  Sandy never knew that I’d threatened him, and she’d gone on and on about how sorry he was and how he was going to counseling for anger management.

  Pulling my mind from the past, I threaded my hand through her hair.

  “Sandy, think about the beach. Think about that summer we spent at the ocean,” I soothed, keeping my tone even as I continued wiping her face with the cold, wet washcloth. “I think we need to go there again. Don’t you? It’s been too long.”

  Guilt clawed at my gut. Is this because of me? Did I do this?

  “It’s been… a long winter,” she stammered, closing her eyes and breathing slowly.

  “It has. It’s been a long time.”

  “Jason,” she opened her teary eyes, scooting forward. I gathered her into my arms, running my hand up and down her arm.

  “We’re going to take it easy today. No more drinking for a while, okay? I think we both overdid it this weekend.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s your heart?” I asked quietly.

  “My heart…” she whispered, tilting her face up to mine. “My heart is stupid. I feel like it’s breaking. For Jack. I want to call him. I want to talk to him. What’s wrong with me?”

  It took all of my patience not to agree with her. I knew enough to know that whatever she was going through, if I was going to help her, I couldn’t do it alone.

  “I have an idea. Hear me out, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I’d like to go with you to counseling. Let’s talk to someone who knows how to help. I could get you drunk and make out with you every night, but I don’t think that’s going to make these panic attacks go away.”

  “Panic attacks? You think that’s what this was?” she asked, her voice rough with tears.

  “I think so. Let’s call a doctor, get an appointment. Together. Blood brothers, remember?” I took her scarred hand in mine.

  She agreed softly, and I helped her to her feet.

  She was quiet for most of the day. We went to her parents for dinner, went grocery shopping, and walked Joplin around my neighborhood. I could tell that she was exhausted by eight PM as she moved to the sink.

  “I’ll get these dishes,” I argued, stepping next to her. “Then I’m heading to bed early, too. Get some sleep, San. Call for me if you need me.”

  She hugged me, making her way to her bedroom in a trance-like walk.

  Work the next day was excruciatingly long. I texted her throughout the morning, asking how she was, and got a quick reply every time. During lunch, I pulled up Facebook and forced myself to click on the waiting message from Carissa.

  Carissa Steel: I’m sorry if I went too fast for you.

  Sighing, I replied after backspacing three times.

  Jason Brewer: You didn’t. I was camping and lost my signal. Worst timing ever.

  I almost closed my browser before her message came through.

  Carissa Steel: Oh! Well that makes sense ;-) Want to chat later?

  Jason Brewer: Honestly, I really do. Tonight?

  Carissa Steel: Defin
itely. I… well, I’ll just talk to you later then. Can’t wait. XO

  And… I felt guilty. Because of Sandy. Because what we’d shared had to have been the most meaningful moments I’d ever experienced.

  She needed time to heal, and she’d suggested that I contact Carissa again, but all I wanted to do was bury myself in Sandy.

  Just one more night.

  I made sure that I was walking out the door right at five, dialing Sandy as soon as I shifted into drive.

  She answered on the second ring, and I heard music in the background. “Hey, Brew. How was work?”

  She sounded cheerful enough, and I smiled into the phone, relieved. “Busy. You know. What’re you doing?”

  “Cleaning. Oh, my God, when was the last time you washed your curtains? Dust. Poor Joplin, I’m shocked she doesn’t have allergies. Right baby? Right?” she cried, and I heard Joplin whine with pleasure.

  I grinned. “You don’t have to clean, San.”

  “Oh, yes I do. And… I have a surprise for you.”

  Something in her voice, combined with knowing I was driving home to her and Joplin, excited the hell out of me. “A surprise, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Does it involve a French maid outfit and a feather duster?”

  She groaned. “No guessing. I’ll just see you when you get home.”

  Home. “Sandy, I can’t wait to come home.”

  I heard her smile into the phone. “Good. Hurry.”

  I pulled in the driveway of my little ranch, noticing right away that the front door was open. The temperature had climbed to almost seventy that day, but I needed to remember to tell Sandy to keep the door locked.

  The thought of Jack showing up while I was at work nearly sent me into a rage, and I decided I needed to get her back to the office with me as soon as possible.

  “Close your eyes!” she called as Joplin barked at her side. I grinned as she pulled off my sunglasses and reached to wrap one of my neckties around my face.

  “San? I’m not gonna lie. This is fucking hot. You need to give me a hint before I get excited for nothing.”

  “Not nothing,” she sang, taking my hands. “Come on, baby steps. We’re almost there.”

  “Can I take off my shoes?”

  “Just walk.”

  I followed her voice, and felt the kitchen table as my knee bumped a chair. “Did you cook me dinner?”

  She laughed, guiding me to the seat. “Really? I said I have a surprise for you, not a miracle.”

  I grinned. “I’m ready. And a little concerned about you going through my closet to find this tie.”

  “I didn’t snoop. Okay, ready? Ta-da!”

  She swept the tie away, and I focused on a large, cardboard box on the table.

  “What is this?” I asked, tilting the package to look at the label.

  “It’s from Carissa! She sent you something!”

  My hand froze over the box.

  It was too big to be a paperback.

  “Open it!” she squealed.

  I turned to her. She was absolutely adorable with her curly hair piled in a ponytail on her head. She wore an oversized Foo Fighters t-shirt and tights, and her black glasses.

  I wanted her. I wanted to push the box aside, lift her to the table and lose myself in her. I wanted to feel her tighten around me, and hear her soft sounds as she cried my name.

  God, I wanted her.

  “Okay. I’ll do it.” She reached for the box, but I covered her hand with mine.

  “Wait. She was sending me a paperback, that’s probably all it is.”

  “This is a big box for a paperback. Here.” She tore at the packing tape, carefully pulling the box apart.

  Carissa Steel’s paperback sat on a bed of bubble wrap. I lifted the book, turning to the first page.

  She’s signed her name, but had also written me a note.

  Jason,

  I bookmarked all of your favorite scenes in my book, and I sent you a present to go with them. I hope you like it.

  Can’t wait to meet you.

  XO

  Carissa Steel

  “Jason?”

  Sandy’s voice forced me to lift my eyes from the book. She removed her hands from the box, covering her mouth as her face turned completely red.

  She held a huge, purple dildo in her hands, still in the package.

  “Holy shit,” she breathed. “Holy fucking shit. What is all this?”

  I remembered reading the parts of Carissa’s book. The couple had experimented with several sex toys, and Carissa had described- in detail- how each of them worked.

  “She sent them. All the toys that she wrote about.” I pulled the bubble wrap away, shifting through the other items in the box.

  “Ball gag… restraints… a paddle? Butt plugs? Holy hell, this girl’s a freak. Oh my God!” She dropped the little, velvet bag after peeking inside. “That’s enough lube to grease a runway. Hey, these condoms are expensive.”

  “I can’t believe she sent all this,” I murmured, shoving the items down far enough to close the top. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know what to say. I’m embarrassed that you opened this.”

  She rolled her eyes, dropping to the kitchen chair and patting her leg. Joplin was at her side in an instant. “You didn’t send it, Jason. Either you two have been having one hell of a conversation without my help, or she’s got the biggest set of balls known to man.”

  “Option two.” I pushed the box across the table even further, sighing. “Well. Awkward.”

  She lifted her eyes to me and giggled. “Eh, we’re all adults here. She’s kind of creative, actually. Not the shy little thing I took her for.”

  I grinned, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees and pet Joplin, too. “I need to go for a run. Want to come?”

  My question, combined with the enormous box of sex supplies sitting next to us, forced us both into laughter.

  “Um, sure. Okay,” she added pointedly, and I gave her a teasingly threatening glare. “Let me change, I’ll be right back.”

  We started off in my neighborhood and took my usual loop around the block. I’d gone running with Sandy so many times, and I knew that once she put on her music, she was in her zone and didn’t want to be disturbed.

  In her tight Nike t-shirt and little black shorts, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  This time, she left her iPod at home. “Do you think she wants you to use all that stuff on her?” she asked, keeping my pace with no effort.

  I winced, wishing she’d let the entire situation drop. “Those were all toys from her book. Scenes she wrote. I think it was her cute and sexy way of flirting with me.”

  “Well, we know that she’s a sure thing for the signing. When is it again?”

  “What, the signing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “In a couple weeks.”

  “You think you can live up to her expectations?”

  I slowed at a stop sign, bending and working to even my breathing. “San, can I be honest with you?”

  She tightened her ponytail, glaring at me. “Well, no shit, you’d better be.”

  I took a step toward her, meeting her eyes. “What we shared this weekend… the way you made me feel. I’m still kind of stuck on that. I told you we need to focus on you and getting you well, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t stop thinking about how fucking good you feel. Or how much I want you again.”

  The busy street seemed to come to a screeching halt.

  She stared at me, her wide, brown eyes watering by the time she finally looked away.

  “Come on,” she finally managed. “Let’s keep going. I’m hungry.”

  When she bolted ahead, I sighed, jogging to keep up with her.

  We showered- separately- and ate salads for dinner. I talked about work, and she looked pained when I added that Jessica was taking over her sales territory in her absence.

  “I need to go back, Brew. As soon as my eye looks a little more normal
, I’m going in. I can’t stay on leave forever.”

  I grabbed two beers from the fridge, settling next to her on the couch. “You stay home as long as you need to. There’s no specific recovery time for what you’ve been through.”

  She accepted the beer with a soft thanks.

  I flicked through the channels, finally settling on The Big Bang Theory. We watched an entire episode before she turned to look up at me.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot,” I replied automatically, downing the last of my second beer. I knew I’d said we’d lay off the drinking, but I was too comfortable cuddled next to Sandy, watching TV, snuggling like we’d be going to the same bed together.

  She bit her lip, looking down shyly. “Have you ever… used things like that before? Those toys from Carissa?”

  I kept my focus on her face, determined not to look away. “Honestly? Yes. Two of the things in the box.”

  She widened her eyes. “Which ones?”

  I lowered the volume of the TV, bending to press my lips closer to her ear.

  “Are you sure you want to know?” I whispered.

  She tensed, nodding once.

  I grinned. “The book… and the bubble wrap.”

  She exhaled a quick laugh, smacking me playfully on the shoulder.

  “Brew!”

  “What? I said honestly. “The other stuff, no. Never needed it.”

  She tilted her face slightly. “But, when you finally do sleep with Carissa, aren’t you going to want to know what to do? With that stuff? You don’t want to look like an amateur.”

  I almost slammed my beer bottle to the table. “Really? I’m pretty sure they’re self-explanatory.”

  We sat in silence for too many long minutes.

  Finally, she slid a half an inch closer to me, and I felt every muscle in my body tighten.