fucking heart about to burst. I’m starting to question if maybe Jake is on to something. If he is, then I’m totally fucked.
The timer beeping on my phone has me standing from the picnic table and heading inside to take dinner out of the oven. I’m not the best cook, but ever since I threw together a meatloaf years ago, the others have asked me to continue cooking it each year. Not that I’m complaining. It’s about the only thing I can cook, and a home cooked meal is nice once in a while when you spend most of your time on the road.
“Smells good in here.” Alana’s voice has me tensing as I set the pan on the stove to cool off. “I’ve been waiting the whole trip for this.”
I exhale and grip the kitchen island, my gaze meeting hers. “I have to make it, so I figured I might as well do it tonight while we’re all still somewhat sober.”
“Good idea.” She brushes a blonde strand behind her ear and leans over the island. “The trip is almost over and I feel like we haven’t gotten a chance to spend any time together. It’s the first for that, and I don’t like it.”
“It’s for the best, Alana.” I release my grip and turn away to grab down plates.
“Why does it have to be this way?” She’s hurt. I can hear it in her voice, and I don’t feel good about it, yet I feel somewhat relieved.
“Because we’re better apart. I’m better when we’re apart.” This time when I say it, I mean it. I realize that the moment the words leave my mouth.
“That hurts,” she whispers painfully. “You should know I’d never hurt you again. You know me better than tha—”
“No,” I cut her off to avoid the guilt trip. “I thought I knew you, and I was sure you’d never do what you did, but I was wrong. I won’t be wrong again. Not when it comes to my fucking heart.”
I’m grateful for the interruption when Jess and Natalie walk in, cutting this little moment short. Without thinking, I lift Natalie onto the kitchen island, spread her thighs, and then move in between them. “Good timing,” I whisper against her ear.
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Stay here.” I grab a fork and dig into the meatloaf, before standing in between her legs again. “Try it,” I pressure her, smirking when she makes a funny face at the meat.
She shakes her head and tightens her lips when I try shoving it into her mouth. “Stop,” she says on a laugh, pushing my hand away. “I told you earlier, I don’t like meatloaf. I’ve hated every single one I’ve tasted. I’ll barf right on your hand. Don’t test me.”
“You’ll love my meatloaf. I promise.” I grip her hip and squeeze it, knowing how it works her up. I love that I know that about her. “Try it or I’ll do this all night.” I squeeze her hip tighter and she moans out, squeezing the island below her. “I don’t think you want that, do you?” I whisper.
“I hate you,” she whispers back, before looking into the living room where the others have gathered. When she realizes no one is watching, she turns back around. “Fine. One bite and you don’t ever squeeze my hip again or I kick your ass. Got it?”
I scrunch my face up and set the fork aside. “No deal.”
“What?!” She jumps down from the kitchen island and comes after me when I walk to the sink. “Really, Madden? Now you suddenly don’t want me to taste it?”
She goes to reach for the fork, but I grab her hand, stopping her. “Not if it means me never squeezing your hip again. I’m good.”
“Give me that.” She stands on her tippy toes when I lift the fork up high enough she can’t reach it. “Madden! Come on!”
I spin around, trying to keep it out of reach, but she bites my bicep. “Did you just bite me?”
“Why? Was my teeth digging into your skin not confirmation enough?” She grins and reaches for the fork again, but I toss it aside and pick her up, setting her back onto the kitchen island. Stepping between her legs again, I grip the back of her hair, exposing her neck for me to bite it.
“Don’t bite me unless you want to be bitten back, Nat.” I run my lips over the spot I just bit, knowing that we most definitely have an audience