Second (8 page)

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Authors: Chantal Fernando

BOOK: Second
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Chapter Thirteen

“How was work?” he asks when he picks me up.

“Long,” I say. Especially knowing that Dean is here. All I wanted to do is get out of there so I could come home and hang out with him. “My manager said I can take a week off, no problem, so that’s good though.” I stare at his profile. “How was your day? How was your catch up with Erica?”

“Erin,” he corrects.

“Oh, right.”

Who knew I could be so petty? Not me.

“Yeah it was good. We went to the beach and had a drink and a chat,” he says casually, like he didn’t just tell me he went on what sounds like a date. Even if he had a date, I can’t exactly say anything. He’s not mine. Sure, we had an amazing kiss, and a few moments, but that’s all we have. Besides friendship and a connection, which are the perfect foundation to build a relationship on, but whatever.

Fuck.

Did I just think that?

“Sounds like a fun day,” I reply, glancing out the window. I decide a subject change is in order. “I’m super hungry. What should we do for dinner?”

“I cooked,” he says simply.

“You cooked?” I ask, brows rising. “What did you cook? Is my kitchen still in one piece?” I tease. I remember how he’d made me fried rice the last time, and I know that he’s pretty good in the kitchen.

He grins, dimples popping. “Of course it is, and you’ll have to wait and see. I thought you’d be tired after being on your feet all day, so I didn’t want you to have to worry about what we’re going to eat.”

“Thanks, nice of you,” I say, wondering how a man can be so thoughtful. Ben never cooked for me. Once again, it’s messed up to compare the two, but I can’t seem to help it. They’re two different men, with different personalities and outlooks on life.

“Well,” he murmurs, “I’m a nice guy.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Amnesia” by 5 Seconds of Summer plays on the radio and I mouth along to the words.

“You know the lyrics to every song that comes on the radio,” he says, shaking his head. “Is that what you really do at work? Listen to music?”

“Sometimes,” I admit, laughing. “When I’m working on something in my office I’ll put my earphones in and multitask, but it’s not the radio. I have different playlists on my phone depending on my mood, so I just pick one.”

I don’t mention that one of my playlists is of all his songs, and it’s the one I listen to the most.

“I still can’t believe you gave me this car, by the way. What did you do? Come here, buy a brand new car just for a few days then give it to me?”

“I bought it for you,” he says, smirking. “I drove it for a few days and didn’t let you, both so you wouldn’t know it was for you and so you’d want it more, then gave it to you when I’d already left so you couldn’t try and return it.”

“You bought me a brand new amazing car,” I say, shaking my head in astonishment. “I still have to pinch myself and remember that it’s actually mine, even after a year.”

“It’s nothing, Sabina. You’ve been driving the same car for years, and I know you’ve always had your eyes on this one. It’s what you said you’d always buy if you got rich.”

I grin. “I did say that, didn’t I? So because I didn’t get rich, and you did, you bought it for me? Breaking my independent woman streak, Dean.”

He chuckles, reaching over and tapping my thigh gently. “You’ll survive. What did you do with your old car, anyway?” he asks, changing lanes.

“Tara’s little sister got knocked up, and she didn’t have a car with a newborn. She’s only eighteen, so I just gave it to her. I didn’t need it.”

I hope in a way I passed on the same generosity that Dean did, except on a smaller scale, because what Dean did for me was very, very generous. Danielle needed a car, and I had a spare one. And now she and her baby boy have a mode of transport.

“That was nice of you,” he says.

“I’m a nice girl,” I reply, arching my brow.

He grins and nods. “I know.”

He parks the car and we walk up to my apartment, his hat low on his head and his shades on. When we walk inside, I see that he’s already set the table and there are two candles in the centre of it.

I look at him to see him watching me, gauging my reaction. Is he trying to make this a romantic dinner? Like a date? Well, apparently he already had one of those today, so maybe he just turns every situation into a date. He walks ahead and pulls out a chair for me, so I sit. It’s kind of early for dinner, but I’m starving, so I’m thankful that he cooked early. I’m secretly hoping he made me fried rice again, although I doubt that he did.

“What are you thinking?” he asks as he steps into the kitchen and opens the oven.

“I’m wondering if it’s fried rice,” I blurt out, peeking over to try and see what he pulls out of it. He serves the food and brings two plates to the table. He made steak, mashed potato, corn, and garlic bread. My mouth waters, especially at the look of the mushroom gravy on top of the meat.

“That looks amazing,” I say, picking up my fork.

“Not too disappointed it isn’t fried rice?” he jokes, returning to the kitchen. He comes back to the table with a bowl, which he puts in the centre. I peer into it. Fried rice. He sits down while I look at him, shaking my head in awe.

“You are something else, Dean Amore,” I say, smiling. “You didn’t have to go to so much effort. The steak is perfect.” I grab the bowl of fried rice and stick my fork in it. “You really spoil me, you know that?”

“Effort is the one thing that determines how much someone wants you in their life, Sabina. Of course I’m going to put in effort when it comes to you, and that will never change.”

I put the bowl down, and the fork, stand up, and move to him. Boldly sitting on his lap, I wrap my arms around him and gently kiss his lips. I have no words to say, so I’m going to let my lips handle the situation. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. No one has cared so much. I end the kiss and bury my face in his neck, smelling his scent.

It smells like home.

Why didn’t I see this before?

“I’ll cook for you every damn day if that’s the reaction I’m going to get,” he says, hands sliding down my back. He kisses my forehead, then tells me to eat. “I know you’re hungry.”

When I don’t move, he cuts a piece of his own steak, adds some mashed potato, and brings it to my lips. I open my mouth, then groan as the delicious taste hits my tongue. “Holy crap, you sure know how to grill a steak.”

He laughs, shaking me with him. “Glad you approve.”

I get up and sit in my own chair, not wanting to stop him from eating too. He put so much effort into cooking and I want to show him how much I appreciate it. I eat everything on my plate and save the rice for second dinner, whenever I get hungry next. He helps me clean up, and then I have a hot shower and get into my pyjamas. When I leave my room, he’s on the couch watching TV.

“What movie do you want to watch?” he asks, taking in my black silk shorts and singlet top. “Although I don’t know how you expect me to concentrate with you wearing that.”

I look down at my top and grin. “What, this old thing?”

It actually isn’t old, but it isn’t new either. It’s a perfect set for those warm summer nights, and yeah, it’s also very flattering. I don’t want to examine why I put so much effort into my freaking pyjamas. Yeah, let’s not go there right now.

He arches a brow and lifts his arm up, silently telling me to come and sit next to him. I press my body against his, his arms coming around me. “What are you in the mood for?”

“This is good,” I say, burying my face in his chest.

He chuckles, kisses the top of my head, and says, “To watch, Sabina. Tell me what you want to watch or I’ll end up putting on a horror and I know you don’t like those.”

I lift my head. “It’s not that I don’t like them, I just have bad dreams afterwards. And I prefer to avoid that.”

“You won’t have bad dreams while I’m here,” he says, sounding confident.

“You can’t know that.”

“Want to make a bet?” he says, kissing just below my ear. “We’ll watch a scary movie you’ve been wanting to see, but have been too scared to. You sleep with me tonight, just sleep, and I bet you that you don’t have any bad dreams.”

“And if I do?” I ask, the idea of getting to hug him all night extremely appealing. Also, because it’s a bet, we don’t have to question or overthink why I’m staying with him. It works wonders for my denial.

“Then you get whatever you want.”

I blink. “What do you mean, whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want from me, I’ll give it to you. If you ask me something, I’ll do it for you. If you want something, I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m not going to ask you to buy me anything,” I say, lifting my chin, even though that damn Givenchy bag has been calling my name for a while now but I haven’t wanted to break the bank for it.

“Well then, the ball’s in your court.”

“And if you win?” I ask, wondering what he wants out of this.

“Then you have to sleep with me every night until I leave.”

Until he leaves.

I don’t even want to think about that right now; I refuse to.

“Deal,” I say, offering him my hand. We shake on it, and then I choose the movie. Tara told me it was good, but I’ve been too scared to watch it. I guess tonight I’ll be battling more fears than one.

Watching a scary movie, and potentially letting another man in.

Chapter Fourteen

We watch the movie, and in Dean’s arms it’s actually not so bad. When it’s over, I brush my teeth, wash my face, then meet him in my bedroom after he’s done the same. We both stand at the bed, looking at each other. Are we really going to do this? Spending the night in the same bed, in each other’s arms, seems like crossing a whole new line. It’s almost as if my subconscious has decided for me that I’m all in, and now the rest of me just has to catch up. Dean lifts the sheets, flashes me a wolfish grin, and nods to the bed. “Ladies first.”

My lip twitches as I sit on the bed, then lie back. He does the same, stretching his arm out for me to lay my head on. I get in position, then look up at him. “I can’t believe we’re spending the night together.”

“Do you not want to?” he asks, his free hand running down the side of my stomach. “I can think of many pros.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I know we shouldn’t. So it’s kind of like what I want, my own feelings against my morals, do you know what I mean? I’m at war with myself, and the selfish part of me is winning.” I take a deep breath and press a kiss onto his cheek, which is starting to get prickly with stubble. “I think there’s always been something between us, Dean. I just pegged it as friendship, because that’s all it could ever be. I never even thought about it, but looking back… that connection has always been there. And to be honest, it makes me feel like a fucking terrible person to admit that out loud, because I was married to Ben. It’s like I’m shitting all over his memory or something. So yes, I want to be here with you right now more than anything, but I feel guilty over it, too.”

And there it is.

The honest truth, and saying it out loud makes it so damn real.

“You’re not a terrible person,” he says, sounding angry. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, not you. He was my cousin, Sabina. But like I said before, he’s not here, and when he was, we didn’t do anything wrong. No lines were crossed. We have a chance to be happy now, should we not take it?” He pushes my hair off my face, cupping my cheek with his hand. “I’m not going to push you into anything. If you don’t want this then say so, and I’ll leave, no questions asked. I don’t want you to feel guilty, Sabina. I don’t want you to think of us as a bad thing, because it’s not. I wish you could see it how I see it.”

“How do you see it?” I ask, eyes closing sleepily.

“Like it’s the best thing to happen to me. Like I might actually have my chance at happiness.”

I fall asleep after that, but his words are the last thing on my mind.

His happiness.

That’s all I want for him.

The best thing to happen to him? He’d make me the luckiest woman on earth, not the other way around. Can I do this?

Is it time for me to stop thinking about how Ben would feel, and instead concentrate on how I could make Dean feel? I’m a loyal person, and this is killing me. I wish I could just move forward, focus on the future, but it’s not always that easy. I know that nothing worth anything comes easy. Is this one of those times? No one has to walk in my shoes except me. No one has to live this life but me. I should do what will make me happy. Maybe it’s me who needs to fight for my second happily ever after. And the scary thing?

Maybe the first one wasn’t meant to be.

I don’t have any bad dreams.

In fact, I’ve never felt so safe in my life.

 

*****

When my fingers touch bare skin, my eyes open. When did he take his shirt off? He must have gotten warm during the night. He’s sleeping on his side, facing away from me, so I scoot closer to him and rest my cheek on his bare back, my arms wrapping around him, being the big spoon. I press my lips to his skin and close my eyes, just enjoying the moment. I feel so peaceful when he’s around, like I’m meant to be here right now with him.

Like I’m meant to be wherever he is.

What a clusterfuck this is.

I’m just going to have to deal with whatever is thrown at me, because I want him, and he wants me. He, out of all people, deserves to have what he wants, and if it’s me… why should I question that? I will always love Ben, and I will never forget him. It’s been just over a year now and I haven’t even been with anyone else. I didn’t really want to, until now. I don’t think there’s a right or wrong time to move on after you lose someone. There isn’t a rule book which states a set amount of time, but I feel like right now the time is right. I kiss his back again, then let my fingers run down his rigid abdomen, feeling every muscle.

“Mmmmm,” he hums, then rolls over onto his back, turning his head to me. “Good morning, beautiful.”

My heart skips a beat at the endearment. My first time waking up with him, and all we did was cuddle. Now, though, I think I want something more from him. He turns his body to me and reaches out, touching my collarbone with his index finger. “What do you want, Sabina? You have a hungry look in your eyes.”

“Have you seen this look in my eyes before?” I ask, boldly giving him a once-over from his face to his cock in his track pants, then back up again.

“I have,” he says, lip twitching. “When you look at food.”

That makes me laugh, because it’s probably true.

“And the few times that we’ve kissed,” he continues, his fingers now tracing the curve of my breast. “But I think this is the hungriest I’ve seen them, and without your mind working behind them.”

“I want you,” I tell him, quietly. “I don’t care what anyone has to say, Dean. What’s the point in fighting something that everyone else is desperately searching for?”

“Someone did a lot of thinking since last night,” he says, studying me. “Are you sure? What if you change your mind, Sabina?”

“I won’t,” I say, licking my lips. “I’d never regret you.”

That’s one thing that I know for sure. He means too much, and has always been in my life in some way or form. We know each other. I don’t think this is rushing anything. I think that the beginning officially starts now. I don’t have anything to lose, and everything to gain at this point. Unless it doesn’t work out and we lose our friendship, which he says will never happen. Shutting my thoughts off, I lean forward and just kiss him.

Fuck everything.

It’s time I get something that I want.

He pins me under him, bracing himself on top of me as the kiss deepens, his hands on my cheeks, no space left between our bodies. “Are you all in, Sabina?”

I let my hands roam down his toned back, resting on his arse. I’ve always wanted to grab his arse, and now I have the chance. “Yeah, Dean. I’m all in.”

I can feel his hard cock pressed against me through our clothes, and I can’t wait to feel it inside me. It’s been so long that I’m practically a virgin again; I can barely remember what it feels like, but I know with Dean it’s going to be amazing.

Perfect.

He ends the kiss but only to kiss down my neck, turning me on so much that I can barely breathe. My neck is so sensitive, and it’s been so long since I’ve felt someone’s lips there. He kisses my collarbone, then pulls down the thin strap of my top, pressing his lips against my bare shoulder. My top falls down further, exposing one of my breasts, and he’s quick to pay attention to it, kissing around and cupping it before licking and gently sucking on the nipple. He slides down my other strap then cups both breasts, glancing up at me. “You are so fucking perfect, Sabina. Just as I always imagined.”

I want to reply to that but my mouth can’t seem to form any words. My brain is switched off; no more words, just me feeling. He continues with his delicious torture until I beg him to touch me. He tugs down my shorts and my red lace panties, making a sound of approval.

“Fuck,” he whispers, spreading my thighs and glancing up at me. He flashes me a cheeky grin before he lowers his face to my bare pussy and starts to lick me.

“Holy shit,” I moan, having forgotten how amazing this feels. Ben hardly went down on me, and from what I remember it didn’t feel half as good as Dean’s mouth does. When he sucks on my clit, I can feel my legs start to shake, and I know I’m going to come.

“Dean.” I moan out his name, trying to warn him. He must know what I’m trying to tell him because he pins my hips down with his hands and licks my clit a little faster, sending me over the edge. My hands leave the sheets, gripping and threading through his hair, pulling gently as the pleasure takes over me. I make a whimpering sound I’ve never heard myself make before, and drift in a dreamlike state as I come back to myself. “Oh my God.”

Dean lifts his head, watching me. “I’m not finished with you yet, Sabina.”

“I know,” I say, smiling to myself. I thought he meant that we’re going to have sex now. Instead, he lowers his head again, continuing to lick my pussy.

Fuck.

Let’s hope I survive him.

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