Can't Let You Go: A Wheeler Brothers Novel Read online

  She looks back at me and cracks a smile. "I do not steal your french fries."

  "Really? So how do you explain what happens to them when I get up from the table to get some ketchup and come back to find half my fries gone?"

  "Half? There's no way I eat half!"

  I smile. "So you admit to eating them?"

  "Okay, fine, I have a few but not half. But I'll stop doing that too." She pulls her hand from mine and when I take it right back, she asks, "What are you doing?"

  "Your hands are cold. I'm warming them up." They are cold but I also just want to hold her hand. Friends can hold hands, right? It doesn't have to mean anything.

  "I should've packed some gloves. I can't believe I need gloves in the middle of March. Look at the sky." She points to the gray clouds. "I bet we get snow tonight."

  "At least you don't have class tomorrow. Got any plans?"

  "I'm going to work on my paper. I just want to get it done. It only has to be a few pages. It shouldn't take long."

  "What about the rest of the week?"

  "I'll spend some time looking for jobs, and hopefully apply for some. Graduation is only two months away. I need to find a job."

  Every time she brings that up my chest tightens and my stomach knots, knowing she could be leaving soon.

  There's a grocery store up ahead and I pull into the lot and park. "Since you're staying with me all week, you might as well get whatever you want to eat so we don't have to come back here later."

  "Okay." She hops out of the truck and I meet up with her and we go inside.

  I get us a cart but then she gets her own.

  "We only need one cart," I say, taking hers and putting it back with the rest.

  "But when we go to pay I'll—"

  "I'm paying for it. Don't worry about it."

  "Bryce, I'm not making you pay for my groceries."

  "You're not making me. I want to. Now hurry up so we can get home. I'm starving."

  "You're always starving." She goes in the first aisle, which is the cereal aisle. "The usual?"

  "Yeah. And load up the cart. I haven't been shopping for a while. I've got nothing to eat."

  Jen and I eat the same cereals. Sugary kid cereals that we probably shouldn't eat anymore but we both still do. We basically eat the same foods, which are the foods we grew up eating at my parents' house. Jen was over there so much that she ate whatever my mom bought.

  "You know that's not enough." I point to the three boxes of cereal in the cart. "I eat half a box at a time."

  "Then how many do you want?"

  "At least ten boxes."

  "I can't believe you still eat that much." She tosses some more boxes in the cart. "It's not like you're still growing."

  "I burn a lot of calories doing construction all day. And I've been training with Austin at the gym. Speaking of that, I should get some protein powder. Austin won't shut up about my diet. I told him I'm not eating cans of tuna but I agreed to make protein shakes."

  She pulls the cart to the end of the aisle and grabs a loaf of bread and the bagels, then peers in the cart. "What else should we buy?"

  "Cheese. Pepperoni. Pizza sauce. Come on, Jen. You know what we need."

  "I know. I'm just tired from last night. The whole no-heat thing really messed me up. I didn't get much sleep."

  "You'll sleep well tonight. I turned the heat up for you."

  "It doesn't need to be that hot. I was almost sweating last night. Of course that could've been because you were giving off so much body heat." She shoots me a smile as she goes past me to get the pizza sauce.

  As I push the cart forward, my mind wanders back to last night. Sleeping next to her, her body all over mine, was more than I could handle. I kept wanting to kiss her, and touch her. And I'm pretty sure I had a sex dream about her.

  We can't sleep together again. It's too tempting. Tonight I'll be sleeping on the couch.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Jen

  We get back from the store and I make our pizza bagels while Bryce puts the groceries away. We've never gone grocery shopping like that before. We've gone to the store and picked up a frozen pizza or some bags of chips, but we've never done real shopping for an entire week. It made me feel like we're a couple. A real couple, and not just friends.

  This week is going to be strange. Living with Bryce? Just the two of us? I don't know how this is going to work. I'm completely turned on by him and have been for years, and I know he's attracted to me, so how are we going to get through this week without something happening? If something does happen, will it change our friendship? Or end it? That's always been a concern of ours, which is why Bryce and I never dated in high school. If we'd dated and broken up, I don't think we would've stayed friends. But we're older now and more mature. I feel like we could move on from being in an intimate relationship and go back to being friends. Or maybe I just tell myself that because it's what I want.

  "What do you think?" I ask as we eat our pizza bagels at the breakfast bar.

  "Just as good as in high school." He looks down at his chest. "Shit. I forgot to change. I'll be right back."

  "Bryce, you don't have to—" I stop because he's already in the bedroom. I'm still wearing my high school sweatshirt but he forgot to put his on. It's sweet that he suggested this flashback to high school night. He's only doing it because he's trying to cheer me up after what's turning out to be a horrible spring break. No heat, my car dies, crappy winter weather, and then stuck at my mom's house. Thank God Bryce got me out of there. My mom's new boyfriend was giving me the creeps. When he touched my ass I almost punched him, but then my mom walked in so I just hurried down to my room. But if Bryce had been there, he would've knocked the guy out.

  "This better?" Bryce comes back, all smiles, showing off a t-shirt with a roaring lion on the front, our high school mascot. "I couldn't find my sweatshirt. I probably got rid of it. Last time I tried it on it was too small."

  The t-shirt is also too small, the fabric straining over his wide chest and shoulders, the sleeves tight around his massive biceps. A twitch of excitement flutters inside me. Sexual excitement, the kind I shouldn't be feeling with Bryce. And yet I feel it whenever he's around, which makes sleeping next to him nearly impossible. I even had a sex dream about him last night. I woke up all hot and sweaty, my arm around his middle, almost touching his...

  "Is it too small?" he asks, tugging on his shirt.

  "Um, no." I force my attention back on my plate as he sits next to me. He must've showered after work because he smells fresh and clean with a slight hint of cologne.

  He finishes his third pizza bagel while I'm still working on my first. He downs his bottle of Coke, then gets up and takes his plate to the sink.

  "Ready for dessert?" he asks, holding up the Oreos and peanut butter. It's another Jen and Bryce thing. One day during sophomore year, we were at my house and I was eating peanut butter. We didn't have any clean spoons so I dipped my finger in the jar and for whatever reason, it grossed Bryce out. He had a package of Oreos in his backpack and gave me one and told me to use it to scoop up the peanut butter. And when I did, I discovered the delicious combination of peanut butter and Oreos. Ever since then, I've combined the two.

  "I haven't even finished dinner." I take a bite of my bagel.

  "You eat too slow." He pops an Oreo in his mouth. He eats them plain. He doesn't like them dipped in peanut butter.

  "You eat too fast." I finish the last of my bagel, then dust my hands off over my plate. I hop off the barstool and take my plate to the sink, then grab an Oreo from the counter.

  Bryce holds up the peanut butter jar, twisting off the cap. "Dig in."

  I dip the cookie in the jar, swirling it around to get just the right amount, then take a bite.

  "That's so good." I close my eyes, savoring the taste of the peanut butter mixing with the chocolate.

  "Now you're gonna smell like peanut butter the rest of the night."

  I open my eyes
. "Yeah? So?" I dip my cookie in the jar again. "Why is that a problem?"

  "It's not when we're eating, but when you're sprawled all over me during the movie, I don't want to smell it."

  "I don't sprawl all over you." I take another cookie.

  "Oh, please. You're like an octopus, your tentacles all wrapped around me." He smiles.

  I smile back. "First of all, they're not called tentacles. An octopus has arms, not tentacles."

  His smile drops and he glances down. Shit. I embarrassed him. Made him feel like he's not smart. That's not at all what I meant when I said that. To anyone else, my comment wouldn't mean anything, but to Bryce, it does. He thinks he's stupid, but he's not. He's so not. Why can't he see that?

  "Bryce, I—"

  "What's second?" he asks, his smile returning as he sets the peanut butter jar down.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You were listing shit off. So continue. What's second?"

  "Oh, um." I try to remember what I was going to say. "Second is that I do not sprawl all over you. I lean against you."

  "With your arms and legs sprawled all over me."

  "Fine." I hold my cookie up. "Then tonight I'll sit in the chair, far away from you."

  "You can't. Then it wouldn't be like high school."

  He's right. I always sprawled my arms and legs over him when we'd watch TV. But I stopped doing it after we had that kiss on graduation night. After that, things were awkward between Bryce and me and we hardly saw each other. It took a year before we started hanging out like normal again.

  I pop the cookie in my mouth. "Let's clean up so we can get the movie going."

  "You didn't use any peanut butter that time." He holds up the jar.

  "Yeah, because I'm all self-conscious now, thinking I smell like peanut butter."

  "You already smell like it so you might as well keep eating it."

  "Nope. I'm done. And just to make you happy, I'm going to go brush my teeth." I walk down to the bathroom.

  "Jen, I was kidding," he calls out.

  It doesn't matter. He's right. Smelling like peanut butter all night isn't appealing. I go in the bathroom and brush my teeth, then go in his room and find my pajama pants in my duffle bag. If we're staying in for the night, I'm going to get comfortable.

  As I'm yanking my jeans off, Bryce walks in.

  "Shit. Sorry," he says, turning to leave.

  "Bryce, get back here. I'm just putting my pajama pants on. What do you need?"

  "I was just going to brush my teeth. I didn't even eat the peanut butter but I feel like it's in my mouth."

  "Go ahead." I motion to the bathroom as I sit on his bed to put my pajama pants on.

  While he's brushing his teeth, I decide to ditch my bra. I'll be more comfortable without it. I take my sweatshirt and t-shirt off and unhook my bra and slip it off.

  I hear Bryce mumble a curse word, then, "Jen, you gotta warn me when you're undressing."

  I whip around. "I was just getting—" I stop when I notice his eyes on my chest. I quickly cover myself with my arms, realizing I haven't put my sweatshirt back on. My eyes go to his as he lifts them back up. "Sorry."

  "I'll get the movie started," he says, then hurries out of the room.

  Why is he acting so weird? He's seen me without a shirt before. In fact, he's seen me almost naked. The other night when we came home from the bar I was drunk but I remember him helping me undress. He had to have seen a lot that night.

  I pick my sweatshirt off the floor and put it on, then go back out to the living room. Bryce is on the couch, scrolling through a list of movies on the screen.

  "Ferris Bueller?" he asks.

  "Ooh, that's a good one." I sit next to him on the couch. "I haven't seen it since high school."

  "Senior year. We watched it on your birthday, but you fell asleep after the first ten minutes."

  I laugh. "Yeah, I'm a real partier, aren't I? But in my defense, it was almost midnight and it'd been a long day."

  It was my eighteenth birthday and my mom wasn't around. Her boyfriend at the time had won a trip to a casino in Minnesota so she took off with him and left me home alone, which ended up being okay. She never did much for my birthday, other than take me to some fast food place for dinner. Spending my birthday with Bryce was way more fun. It was a Saturday and he took me out for lunch and a movie, then we went back to his house for my party, which included pizza, ice cream, balloons, and presents. Bryce's family threw me a party that year because they felt bad that my mom ditched me for her boyfriend. After the party, Bryce and I hung out on the couch and watched movies. I was awake for the first two, but fell asleep during Ferris Bueller.

  "You gonna stay awake tonight?" he asks as the movie starts.

  "It's early. I'm not going to fall asleep."

  He puts his arm up and I slide over next to him, then jump up from the couch. "I forgot. I'm sitting over here tonight." I climb over his long legs to the leather recliner he has at the end of the couch.

  "Jen, I told you I was kidding."

  "I don't want to crowd you."

  "You're not crowding me. Now get over here." He pats the spot next to him.

  "If I sit next to you, you'll complain you're too hot."

  "That's not because of you. It's because it's like a sauna in here."

  I smile, tucking my legs up beside me on the chair. "I love it. It feels all warm and toasty. But if you're too hot, just turn it down."

  He sighs. "Would you just get your butt over here?"

  "Why?"

  "Because I can't watch a movie with you way over there. It doesn't feel right. It's all off."

  "You'll get used to it." I sink into the chair but it's not nearly as comfy as being next to Bryce.

  He gets up from the couch, and before I can figure out what he's doing, his hands go under my legs and around my back and he scoops me up from the chair.

  "Bryce, what are you—"

  He drops me on the couch and sits next to me. "There. That's better."

  I turn to him, pointing at the chair. "Maybe I liked it over there."

  "You didn't. Now turn around and watch the movie."

  "You're being bossy."

  "You're being stubborn."

  "I was giving you space. You told me you didn't like me sprawling all over you."

  "I never said I didn't like it." His eyes are on the TV, his arm along the back of the couch.

  "You said I stink like peanut butter."

  "You don't now. You brushed your teeth." He points to the open space under his arm. "Now come on. Get in your spot."

  "If I sit there, you'll be too hot."

  He reaches behind his head and yanks his shirt off. "I'm good. Now are we gonna watch the movie or what?"

  My eyes are fixed on his bare chest. The ripped muscles. The swirls of ink covering his skin. I swallow, then quickly turn back around, facing the TV. I scoot back, being careful not to touch him, because if I touch him, I might kiss him. I really want to kiss him. I've been thinking about it ever since that night at the bar.

  His hand goes around my hip, tugging on me. "Get back here. I can't see the TV."

  "Oh. Sorry." I move back just slightly.

  "What's the deal with you?" He laughs a little, his hand still on my hip, his fingers going under my thigh as he slides me over on the couch until I'm right up against his side.

  It's how we always sit, but tonight it feels different. Tonight, my nerves are on high alert, aware of even the slightest touch from Bryce's hand. Usually, I'm better able to tamp down my attraction to him, but not now. Not after that kiss at the bar. The way he made me feel that night? All hot and tingly, my panties soaked? Bryce is the only guy who's ever made me feel that way, and I want to feel that way again.

  "You warm enough?" he asks.

  "Yeah. Perfect."

  We remain like that for an hour, both of us quiet as we watch the movie. Normally, we'd talk as it plays but instead we're silent. Focused. Not on
the movie, but on each other. I'm not the only one trying to control my urges. Bryce is too. I could tell by the uptick in his breathing as soon as he pulled me against him.

  Another half hour goes by and Bryce sinks farther back on the couch, stretching out his legs and turning slightly.

  "I need to move," he says. "My back's killing me. I think I need to lie down."

  I sit up. "You want me to go back to the chair?"

  "I think we'll both fit." He lies down on his back. To give us more room, I turn on my side, my body wedged against the back of the couch.

  "You comfortable?" he asks. "Because if you're not, I can try sitting up again. It's just that my back is stiff from finishing the floors this morning. I was on my hands and knees for hours."

  "I'm okay, although I might need to sprawl out a little and I know you don't like that."

  He smiles. "Go ahead and sprawl. I don't mind."

  I put my arm and leg over him, and lay my head on his shoulder. We were positioned this same way when I spent the night over here but it feels more intimate now. We're completely awake and haven't been drinking. We're fully aware of our bodies touching, our mouths within kissing distance. My hand is resting over his heart and I can feel it beating rapidly like my own.

  I try to focus back on the movie but my raging desire for Bryce won't let me. What if we just did it? Then maybe I could stop thinking about it, stop imagining what it would be like. Would it ruin our friendship? I don't think so, especially if it was only one time. But could we stop after one time? What if it was great and we wanted to do it again? Or what if it wasn't great? What if it was really bad? Either way, good or bad, it would definitely affect our friendship. It's a bad idea. We shouldn't do it. Not now. Not ever.

  "You want to watch another one?" Bryce asks.

  I hadn't even noticed the movie was over. "Let's see what's on TV."

  He flips through the channels. "There's nothing on. Besides, this is high school night. We're supposed to be reliving senior year."

  I sit up. "Video game rematch?"

  He smiles. "You sure you're up for it?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I shove his shoulder.