If there was a way to quit Jonas, Viv didn’t want to know about it.
She should be looking for the exit, not congratulating herself on the finest plea for remaining in a man’s bed that had ever been created in the history of time. She couldn’t help it. The scene after the most explosive sexual encounter of her life had been almost as epic. Jonas had no idea how much it had killed her to act so nonchalant about ending things. He’d been shocked she’d suggested backing off. It had been written all over his face.
That kept her feeling smug well into the dawn hours the next morning. She rolled toward the middle of the bed, hoping to get a few minutes of snuggle time before work. Cold sheets met her questing fingers. Blinking an eye open, she sought the man she’d gone to sleep with.
Empty. Jonas had gotten out of bed already. The condo was quiet. Even when she was in her bedroom, she could hear the shower running through the pipes in the ceiling—a treat she normally enjoyed, as she envisioned the man taking a shower in all his naked glory.
Today, she didn’t get that luxury, as Jonas was clearly already gone. Profoundly disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her goodbye, said goodbye or thought about her at all, she climbed out from under the sheets and gathered up her clothes for the return trek to her bedroom.
It was fine. They’d established last night that there were no rules. No pressure. When he’d gotten on board with convincing her that they could keep sleeping together—which she still couldn’t quite believe she’d orchestrated so well—she’d thought that meant they were going to spend a lot of time together. Be goofy and flirty with each other. Grow closer and closer until he looked up one day and realized that friendship plus marriage plus sex equaled something wonderful, lasting and permanent. Obviously she’d thought wrong.
The whole point had been to give him the impression she wasn’t clingy. That Independence was her middle name and she breezed through life just fine, thanks, whether she had a man or not. Apparently he’d bought it. Go me.
The sour taste wouldn’t quite wash from her mouth no matter how much mouthwash she used. After a long shower to care for her well-used muscles, Viv wandered to the kitchen barefoot to fight with Jonas’s espresso machine. She had a machine at Cupcaked but Jonas’s was a futuristic prototype that he’d brought home from work to test. There were more buttons and gizmos than on a spaceship. Plus, it hated her. He’d used it a couple of times and made it seem so easy, but he had a natural affinity with things that plugged in, and the machine had his name on it, after all. Finally, she got a passably decent latte out of the monstrosity.
She stood at the granite countertop to drink it, staring at the small, discreet Kim Electronics logo in the lower right-hand corner of the espresso machine. Jonas’s name had been emblazoned on her, too, and not just via the marriage license and subsequent trip to the DMV to get a new driver’s license. He’d etched his name across her soul well before they’d started sleeping together. Maybe about the third or fourth time they’d had lunch.
Strange then that she could be so successful with snowing him about her feelings. It had never worked with any man before. Of course, she’d never tried so hard to be cool about it. Because it had never mattered so much.
But now she wasn’t sure what her goal here really was. Or what it should be. Jonas had “talked” her into keeping sex on the menu of their relationship. She’d convinced him their friendship could withstand it. Really, the path was pretty clear. They were married friends with benefits. If she didn’t like that, too bad.
She didn’t like it.
This wasn’t practice for another relationship and neither was it fake, not for her. Which left her without a lot of options, since it was fake to Jonas.
Of course, she always had the choice to end things. But why in the world would she want to do that? Her husband was the most amazing lover on the planet, whose beautiful body she could not get enough of. He bought her diamonds and complimented her cupcakes. To top it all off, Viv was married. She’d been after that holy grail for ages and it had felt really nice to flash her ring at her sisters when they’d come to the shop last week. It was the best possible outcome of agreeing to do this favor for Jonas.
Convinced that she should be happy with that, she walked the four blocks to Cupcaked and buried herself in the kitchen, determined to find a new cupcake flavor to commemorate her marriage. That was how she’d always done things. When something eventful occurred, she baked. It was a way of celebrating in cake form, because wasn’t that the whole point of cake? And then she had a cupcake flavor that reminded her of a wonderful event.
The watermelon recipe she’d been dying to try didn’t turn out. The red food coloring was supposed to be tasteless but she couldn’t help thinking that it had added something to the flavor that made the cupcake taste vaguely like oil. But without it, the batter wasn’t the color of watermelon.
Frustrated, she trashed the whole batch and went in search of a different food coloring vendor. Fruitless. All her regular suppliers required an industrial sized order and she couldn’t commit to a new brand without testing it first.
She ended up walking to the market and buying three different kinds off the shelf. For no reason, apparently, as all three new batches she made didn’t turn out either. Maybe watermelon wasn’t a good cupcake flavor. More to the point, maybe she shouldn’t be commemorating a fake marriage that was real to her but still not going to last. That was the problem. She was trying to capture something fleeting that shouldn’t be immortalized.
After the cupcake failure, her mood slid into the dumps. She threw her apron on the counter and stayed out of the kitchen until lunch, when she opened for business to the public. On the plus side, every display case had been cleaned and polished, and the plate-glass window between Cupcaked and the world had not one smudge on it. Camilla wouldn’t be in until after school, so Viv was by herself for the lunch rush, which ended up being a blessing in disguise.
Wednesday wasn’t normally a busy day, but the line stretched nearly out the door for over an hour. Which was good. Kept her mind off the man she’d married. Josie had the rest of the week off, and Viv had approved it thinking she and Camilla could handle things, but if this kind of crowd was even close to a new normal, she might have to see about adding another part-time employee. That was a huge decision, but a good sign. If she couldn’t have Jonas, she could have her cupcakes. Just like she’d always told him.
After locking the bakery’s door, tired but happy with the day’s profits, she headed home. On the way, she sternly lectured herself about her expectations. Jonas might be waiting in the hall for her to come in the door like he had been last night. Or he might not. Her stomach fluttered the entire four blocks regardless. Her husband had just been so sexy standing there against the wall with a hot expression on his face as if he planned to devour her whole before she completely shut the door.
And then he pretty much had, going down on her in the most erotic of encounters. She shuddered clear to her core as she recalled the feel of that first hot lick of his tongue.
Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t stop hoping he’d be waiting for her again tonight. Her steps quickened as she let herself anticipate seeing Jonas in a few minutes.
But he wasn’t in the hall. Or at home. That sucked.
Instead of moping, she fished out her phone and called Grace. It took ten minutes, but eventually her sister agreed to have dinner with Viv.
They met at an Italian place on Glenwood that had great outdoor seating that allowed for people watching. The maître d’ showed them to a table and Grace gave Viv a whole three seconds before she folded her hands and rested her chin on them.
“Okay, spill,” she instructed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you before Friday. Is Jonas in the doghouse already?”
“What? No.” Viv scowled. Why did something have to be wrong for her to ask her sister to dinner? Besides, that was none of Grace’s business anyway. Viv pounced on the flash of green fire on her sister’s wrist in a desperate subject change. “Ooooh, new bracelet? Let me see.”
The distraction worked. Grace extended her arm dutifully, her smile widening as she twisted her wrist to let the emeralds twinkle in the outdoor lighting. “Alan gave it to me. It’s an anniversary present.”
“You got married in April,” Viv said.
“Not a wedding anniversary. It’s a…different kind of anniversary.”
Judging by the dreamy smile that accompanied that admission, she meant the first time she and Alan had slept together, and clearly the act had been worthy of commemorating.
Viv could hardly hide her glee. It was going to be one of those discussions and she finally got to participate. “Turns out Jonas is big on memorializing spectacular sex, too.”
“Well, don’t hold back. Show and tell.” Grace waggled her brows.
Because she wanted to and she could, Viv fished the diamond drop necklace from beneath her dress and let it hang from her fingers. Not to put too fine a point on it, but hers was a flawless white diamond in a simple, elegant setting. Extremely appropriate for the wife of a billionaire. And he’d put it around her neck and then given her the orgasm of her life.
The baubles she could do without and had only mentioned jewelry in the car on the way to Jonas’s parents’ house because he’d pushed her to name something he could do for her. She hadn’t really been serious. But all at once, she loved that Jonas had unwittingly allowed her to stand shoulder to shoulder with her sister when it came to talking about whose marriage was hotter.
“Your husband is giving you jewelry already?” Grace asked, and her tone was colored with something that sounded a lot like she was impressed. “Things must be going awfully well.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Viv commented airily and waved her hand like she imagined a true lady of the manor would. “We didn’t even make it out of the foyer where he gave it to me before his hands were all over me.”
Shameless. This was the raciest conversation she’d ever had with anyone except maybe Jonas, but that didn’t count. She should be blushing. Or something. Instead she was downright giddy.
“That’s the best.” Grace’s dreamy smile curved back into place. “When you have a man who loves you so much that he can’t wait. I’m thrilled you finally have that.”
Yeah, not so much. Her mood crashed and burned as reality surfaced. Viv nodded with a frozen expression that she hoped passed for agreement.
Obviously Grace knew what it felt like to have a man dote on her and give her jewelry because he cared, not because they were faking a relationship. Grace could let all her feelings hang out as much as she wanted and Alan would eat it up. Because they were in love.
Something that felt a lot like jealousy reared its ugly head in the pit of Viv’s stomach. Which was unfair and petty, but recognizing it as such didn’t make it go away.
“Jonas was worth waiting for,” she said truthfully, though it rankled that the statement was the best she could do. While Viv’s husband might rival her sister’s in the attentive lover department, when it came to matters of the heart, Grace and Alan had Viv and Jonas beat, hands down.
“I’m glad. You had a rough patch for a while. I started to worry that you weren’t going to figure out how stop putting a man’s emotional needs ahead of yours. It’s good to see that you found a relationship that’s on equal footing.”
Somehow, Viv managed to keep the surprise off her face, but how, she’d never know. “I never did that. What does that even mean?”
“Hon, you’re so bad at putting yourself first.” Grace waved the waiter over as he breezed by and waited until he refilled both their wineglasses before continuing. “You let everyone else dictate how the relationship is going to go. That last guy you dated? Mark? He wanted to keep things casual, see other people, and even though that’s not what you wanted, you agreed. Why did you do that?”
Eyebrows hunched together, Viv gulped from her newly filled wineglass to wet her suddenly parched throat. “Because when I told him that I wanted to be exclusive, he said I was being too possessive. What was I supposed to do, demand that he give me what I want?”
“Uh, yeah.” Grace clucked. “You should have told him to take a hike instead of waiting around for him to do it for you.”
“It really didn’t take that long,” she muttered, but not very loud, because Grace was still off on her tangent.
Her sister was right. Viv should have broken up with Mark during that exact conversation. But on the heels of being told she was “clingy,” “controlling” and “moving too fast” by Zachary, Gary and Judd respectively, she hadn’t wanted to rock the boat.
Why was it such a big deal to want to spend time with a man she was dating? It wasn’t clingy. Maybe it was the wine talking, but Grace’s point wasn’t lost on Viv—she shouldn’t be practicing her independence but finding a different kind of man. One who couldn’t stand being apart from her. One who texted her hearts and smiley faces just to let her know he was thinking of her. One who was in love with her.
In other words—not Jonas.
The thought pushed her mood way out of the realm of fit for company. Dinner with Grace was a mistake. Marrying Jonas had been a mistake. Viv had no idea what she was doing with her life or how she was going to survive a fake marriage she wished was real.
“I just remembered,” she mumbled. “I have to…do a thing.”
Pushing back from the table, Viv stood so fast that her head spun. She’d planned to walk home but maybe a cab would be a better idea.
“What?” Grace scowled. “You called me. I canceled drinks with the ladies from my auxiliary group. How could you forget that you had something else?”
Because Viv wasn’t perfect like Grace with the perfect husband who loved her, and frankly, she was sick of not getting what she wanted. “Jonas has scrambled my wits.”
Let her sister make what she would out of that. Viv apologized and exited the restaurant as quickly as she could before she started crying. After not seeing Jonas this morning and the watermelon-slash-red-food-coloring disaster and the incredibly busy day at the store and then realizing that she had not in fact gotten to join the club her sisters were in, crying was definitely imminent.
The icing on the cake happened when she got home and Jonas was sprawled on the couch watching TV, wearing jeans with a faded Duke T-shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin.
His smile as he glanced up at her was instant and brilliant and that was all it took to unleash the waterworks.
With tears streaming down her face, Viv stood in the foyer of the condo she shared with Jonas until whatever point in the future he decided to pull the plug on their marriage and it was all suddenly not okay.
“Hey, now. None of that.” Jonas flicked off the TV and vaulted to his feet, crossing the ocean of open space between the living room and the foyer in about four strides.
He didn’t hesitate to gather Viv in his strong arms, cradling her against his chest, and dang it, that T-shirt was really soft against her face. It was a testament to how mixed-up she was that she let him guide her to the leather couch and tuck her in against his side as he held her while softly crooning in his baritone that she’d heard in her sleep for aeons.
What was wrong with her that she was exactly where she wanted to be—in his arms? She should be pushing away and disappearing into her bedroom. No pressure, no love, no nothing.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked softly into her hair. “Bad day at work?”
“I wasn’t at work,” she shot back inanely, sniffling oh so attractively against his shoulder.
“Oh. Well, I wondered where you were when you weren’t here.”
“You weren’t here either,” she reminded him crossly. “So I went to dinner with Grace.”
He pulled back, the expression on his face both confused and slightly alarmed. “Did we have plans that I forgot about or something? Because if so, I’m sorry. I didn’t have anything on my calendar and my grandfather asked me to take him to the airport. I texted you.”
He had? And how desperate would it appear to pull out her phone to check? Which was totally dumb anyway. It was obvious he was telling her the truth, which he didn’t even have to do. God, she was such a mess. But after he’d disappeared this morning and then she’d come home to an empty house and…so what? He was here now, wasn’t he? She was making a mountain out of a molehill.
“It’s okay, we didn’t have plans. You called it. Bad day at work,” she said a bit more brightly as she latched on to his excuse that wasn’t even a lie. Sales had been good, sure, but Cupcaked meant more to her than just profits. “I tried out a new recipe and it was a complete failure.”
All smiles again, Jonas stroked her hair and then laid a sweet kiss on her temple. “I hate days like that. What can I do to fix it?”
About a hundred suggestions sprang to her mind all at once, and every last one could easily be considered X-rated. But she couldn’t bear to shift the current vibe into something more physical when Jonas was meeting a different kind of need, one she’d only nebulously identified at dinner. This was it in a nutshell—she wanted someone to be there for her, hold her and support her through the trials of life.
Why had she gotten so upset? Because Jonas hadn’t fallen prostrate at her feet with declarations of undying love? They were essentially still in the early stages of their relationship, regardless of the label on it. Being married didn’t automatically mean they were where Grace and her husband were. Maybe Viv and Jonas were taking a different route to get to the same destination and she was trying too hard.
Also known as the reason her last few relationships hadn’t worked out.
“You’re already fixing it,” she murmured as his fingers drifted to her neck and lightly massaged.
Oh, God, that was a gloriously unfulfilled need, too. After a long day on her feet, just sitting here with Jonas as he worked her tired muscles counted as one of the highest points of pleasure she’d experienced at his hands. Her eyelids drifted closed and she floated.
“Did I wake you up this morning?” he asked after a few minutes of bliss.
“No. I was actually surprised to find that you were gone.” Thank God he’d lulled her into a near coma. That admission had actually sounded a lot more casual than she would have expected, given how his absence had been lodged under skin like a saddle burr all day.
“That’s good.” He seemed a lot more relieved than the question warranted. “I’m not used to sleeping with someone and I was really worried that I’d mess with your schedule.”
What schedule? “We slept in the same bed at your parents’ house.”
“Yeah, but that was over the weekend when no one had to get up and go to work. This is different. It’s real life and I’m nothing if not conscious that you’re here solely because I asked you to be. You deserve to sleep well.”
Warmth gushed through her heart and made her feel entirely too sappy. What a thoroughly unexpected man she had married. “I did sleep well. Thank you for being concerned. But I think I slept so well because of how you treated me before I went to sleep. Not because you tiptoed well while getting dressed.”
He did treat her like a queen. That was the thing she’d apparently forgotten. They were friends who cared about each other. Maybe he might eventually fall in love with her, but he certainly wouldn’t if she kept being obsessive and reading into his every move.
Jonas chuckled. “Last night was pretty amazing. I wasn’t sure you thought so. I have to be honest and tell you that I was concerned I’d done something to make you angry and that’s why you weren’t here when I got home after taking my grandfather to the airport. I could have called him a car.”
“No!” Horrified, she swiveled around to face him, even though it meant his wonderful hands slipped from her shoulders. “We just talked about no pressure and I was—well, I just thought because you weren’t here…”
Ugh. How in the world was she supposed to explain that she’d gone out to dinner with Grace because of a hissy fit over something so ridiculous as Jonas not being here because he’d taken his grandfather to the airport? Maybe instead of using the excuse that she’d missed his text messages, she should tell him how she felt. Just flat out say, Jonas, I’m in love with you.
“We did talk about no pressure,” Jonas threw out in a rush. “And I’m definitely not trying to add any. I like our relationship where it is. I like you. It’s what makes the extra stuff so much better.”
Extra stuff. She absorbed that for a second. Extra stuff like deeper feelings he didn’t know he was going to uncover? Extra stuff like being there for each other?
“I value our friendship,” she said cautiously, weighing out how honest she could be. How honest she wanted to be given how she managed to screw up even the simplest of relationship interactions.
And just as she was about to open her mouth and confess that she appreciated the extra stuff, too, maybe even tell him that she had a plethora of extra stuff that she could hardly hold inside, he smoothed a hand over her hair and grinned. “I know. I’m being all touchy-feely and that’s not what we signed up for. Instead, let’s talk about Cupcaked.”
“Um…okay?” He’d literally switched gears so fast, she could scarcely keep up.
That was him being touchy-feely? Jonas wasn’t one to be gushy about his feelings and usually erred on the side of being reserved; she knew that from the year of lunches and coffee. Clearly, he was uncomfortable with the direction of the discussion. She definitely should not add a level of weirdness, not on top of her storming in here and having a minor meltdown.
This was her relationship to make or break. All at once, it became so obvious what she should be focusing on here.
No, this wasn’t practice for the next man she dated. She was practicing for this one. If she hoped to get to a point where they were both comfortable with declarations of love, she had to tread carefully. While she didn’t think Jonas was going to divorce her if she moved too fast, neither did she have a good handle on how to be less intense.
She needed to back off. Way off. Otherwise, she was going to freak him out. And suddenly she could not fathom giving up this marriage under any circumstances.
“I’d love to talk about Cupcaked,” she said with a smile. “Seems like you owe me some advice.”
“Yes, exactly.” His return smile bordered on relieved. “You’ve been so patient and I’m a selfish jerk for not focusing on your career when that’s the one thing you’re getting out of this deal.”
“The sex is nice, too,” she teased. Look at that. She could be cool.
Jonas shot her a wicked once-over. “That’s what makes you so perfect. We can hang out as friends, but if I wanted to, say, slip my hand under your dress, you’d gladly climb in my lap for a little one-on-one time. It’s the best.”
She shrugged to cover how his compliment had thrilled her to the marrow. “I promised it wouldn’t make things weird.”
Now she’d stick to that. At the end of the day, Cupcaked was important to her. She’d just have to make sure that eventually Jonas realized that he was important to her, as well.
* * *
Jonas ducked out of a meeting on Friday with a guilty conscience. While he knew Viv would understand if he put off a thorough analysis of her business plan, he wasn’t okay with ignoring his promise. Unfortunately, Park had come through with some amendments to the merger agreement Jonas had drafted, which had taken his time and attention for the whole of the week.
The moment he stepped outside the Kim Building, the sunshine raised his spirits. He was on his way to see his wife at Cupcaked, which oddly would mark the first time he’d graced the store since they’d gotten married. Before the wedding, he found excuses to drop by on a frequent basis. But now he didn’t have to. The cupcake baker slept in his bed and if he wanted to see her, all he had to do was turn his head.
It was pretty great. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself. In reality, the look on Viv’s face when she’d told him she valued their friendship had been like a big fat wake-up call. Basically, she was telling him no pressure worked for her regardless of how hot he could get her with nothing more than a well-placed caress.
Well, that was great. He didn’t have any desire to pressure her into anything. But he couldn’t deny that he might like to put more structure around things. Would she think it was weird if he expected her to be his plus-one for events? His admin was planning a big party for the whole company to commemorate the anniversary of opening the Kim Americas branch. He wanted Viv by his side. But it was yet another favor. If they were dating instead of married he wouldn’t think twice about asking her.
Everything was backward and weird and had been since that no-pressure discussion, which he’d initiated because he needed the boundaries. For no reason apparently. Viv so clearly wasn’t charging over the imaginary lines he’d drawn in the sand. In fact, she’d drawn a few lines of her own. Yet how could he change those lines when Viv had gotten so prickly about the subject? In fact, she’d already tried to call off the intimate aspects of their relationship once. He needed to tread very carefully with her before he got in too deep for them both.
When he got to Cupcaked, the door was locked. Not open yet. He texted Viv that he was outside and within thirty seconds, she’d popped out of the kitchen and hurried to the plate-glass door with a cute smile.
“I didn’t know you were coming by,” she commented unnecessarily since he was well aware it was a surprise. After she let him in, she locked the door and turned, her brown hair shining in the sunlight that streamed through the glass.
Something was wrong with his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Or think. All he could do was soak in the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. And all of his good intentions designed to help her with her business flew out the window in a snap.
Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She softened instantly and the scent of vanilla and Viv wound through his senses, robbing him of the ability to reason, because the only thing he could think about was getting more of her against him.
Almost as if she’d read his mind, she opened under his mouth, eagerly deepening the kiss, welcoming the broad stroke of his tongue with her own brand of heat. Slowly she licked into his mouth in kind, teasing him with little flutters of her fingers against his back.
That was not going to work. He wanted to feel her fingers against his flesh, not through the forty-seven layers of clothing between them.
Walking her backward, he half kissed, half maneuvered her until they reached the kitchen, and then he spun her through the swinging door to the more private area, where the entire city of Raleigh couldn’t see them.
Her mouth was back on his without missing a beat, and he pushed her up against the metal counter, trapping her body with his. Her sweet little curves nestled into the planes of his body and he wasn’t sure if he could stand how long it was taking to get her naked.
The zipper of her dress took three tries to find and then slid down easily, allowing him to actually push the fabric from her shoulders instead of ripping it, a near miracle. There was something about her that drove him to a place he didn’t recognize, and it bothered him to be this crazy over her. But then her dress slipped off, puddling to the floor, and he forgot about everything but her as she unhooked her bra, throwing it to the ground on top of her dress.
Groaning, he looked his fill of her gorgeous breasts, scarcely able to believe how hard and pointy they were from nothing other than his gaze. Bending to capture one, he swirled his tongue around the perfection of her nipple and the sound she made shot through his erection like an arrow of heat.
“Hurry,” she gasped. “I’m about to come apart.”
Oh, well, that was something he’d very much like to witness. In a flash, he pushed her panties to her ankles and boosted her up on the counter. Spreading her legs wide, he brushed a thumb through her crease and, yes, she was so ready for him.
She bucked and rolled against his fingers, her eyes darkening with the pleasure he was giving her, and he wanted her more than anything he could recall. As much as he’d like to do any number of things to bring her to climax, there was one clear winner. Ripping out of his own clothes in record time, he stepped back between her thighs and hissed as she nipped at his shoulder.
“Tell me you have a condom,” she commanded, and then smiled as he held it up between his fingers.
He’d stashed a couple in his wallet and he really didn’t want to examine that particular foresight right now. Instead, he wanted to examine the wonders of Viv and sheathed himself as fast as humanly possible, notching himself at the slick entrance to her channel. Her wet heat welcomed him, begged him to come inside, but he paused to kiss her because that was one of his favorite parts.
Their tongues tangled and he got a little lost in the kiss. She didn’t. She wrapped her legs around him, heels firm against his butt, and pushed him forward, gasping as he slammed into her. So that’s how she wanted it. Two could play that game.
He engulfed her in his arms and braced her for a demanding rhythm, then gave it to her. She took each and every thrust eagerly, her mouth working the flesh at his throat, his ear, nipping sensuously. He was the one about to come apart.
Viv flew through his soul, winging her essence into every diameter of his body. Wiggling a hand between their slick bodies, he fingered her at the source of her pleasure, gratified when she cried out. Her release crashed against his, shocking him with both the speed and intensity.
She slumped against him, still quaking as she held on. He was busy losing the entire contents of his body as everything inside rushed out in a flash to fill her. Fanciful to be sure since there was a barrier preventing anything of the sort. But she’d wrung him out, taken everything and more, and he couldn’t have stopped the train as it barreled down the track, even if he wanted to. Why would he want to?
He turned his head, seeking her lips, and there they were, molding to his instantly. Viv was amazing, a woman he liked, cared for deeply even, and they had the most spectacular chemistry. He could hardly fathom how much he still wanted her four seconds after having her. It was everything he said he wanted.
Except the warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with sex wasn’t supposed to be there. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what was happening. He’d let her in, pretending that being friends gave him a measure of protection against falling for her. Instead, he’d managed to do the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do—develop feelings for someone who didn’t return them.
This was a huge problem, one he didn’t have a good solution for. One he could never let her know he was facing because he’d promised not to pressure her.
Best thing would be to ignore it. It wasn’t happening if he didn’t acknowledge it. And then he wouldn’t be lying to her or dishonoring the pact he’d made with his friends, neither of which could ever happen. If he didn’t nurture these fledging tendrils of disaster that wound through his chest, he could kill them before they ruined everything.
Actually, the best thing would be to stop being around Viv so much. Without letting on to her that he was deliberately creating distance.
The thought hurt. But it was necessary for his sanity.