Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,52

a wet hand through this hair, slicking it off his forehead. “Despite what you think, you can learn a lot about someone in bed—like if they’re giving. Or patient…if they listen. Not everyone starts off as friends like you and Lucy. Some of us take a different path. It doesn’t mean a meaningful relationship is out of the question just because we slept together first. I swear, it’s like someone wanted us to meet. Lucy gets it. Why don’t you?”

Harry exhaled a forced breath. “Because I don’t want you to go off the grid again if it doesn’t work out.”

What? Why is he saying—he doesn’t know, does he? Dammit. It would help if I could see his face. I’ve never told Harry about my depression, and I’m not about to now. “Harry, I went away because you made it crystal clear you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

A beat passed before Harry responded. “Yeah, I overreacted…but you know I had my reasons.”

“Yeah, and we patched all that up, so can we drop it—please? And you can stop worrying about me. This will be the last time I fall back on hooking up. I will walk away with the woman of my dreams.”

“Or a broken heart,” said Harry.

The story of my life. Tarquin flexed his fingers under the water, his jaw tensing. “Leia’s worth the risk.” Keep telling yourself that, mate. He narrowed his eyes, staring down the morning sun creeping over the far edge of his tub. Even if she breaks me.

Eleven

LEIA

Leia carefully flipped over onto her stomach, mindful of the couch’s habit of squealing under the slightest duress. Tarquin’s bed felt like a fluffy cloud. This back-breaking monstrosity should be tossed in a dumpster and set ablaze. She hugged her pillow and closed her eyes, shutting out the brightness bursting beyond Sarah’s curtains (another IKEA bargain). But no matter how tightly she scrunched her lashes, Jordan’s nasally snores drilled through the morning quiet. They rose and trailed off, giving way to snorty wheezes that sounded like the raspy breathing of Leia and Sarah’s childhood bulldog. How does Saz sleep through that? He’s lovely, but I would’ve smothered him with a pillow by now. I need to get earplugs! I keep forgetting. She let out a long, silent yawn. Make a note.

Her hand skimmed over the couch and underneath Sarah’s black and white knitted blanket, one of her latest masterpieces, searching…searching…until her fingers trailed over the plastic case of her phone. She dragged it to the surface and woke it up, the jarring glow piercing her sleep-deprived stupor. Argh, it’s… shit! Almost eight? I slept, what, three hours? Mid-yawn, she punched BUY EARPLUGS into her to-do list and left her phone on her pillow. If I’m up, I might as well get it out of the way. Dipping her shoulder over the edge of the couch, she reached underneath, her fingers skimming dust bunnies and a forgotten gossip magazine until they met the familiar padded cover of her journal.

She rose up on her elbows and unzipped the pages, the shift sliding her phone into the dip between her blanket and the back of the couch. Pen in hand, she jotted down the first three things popping into her head.

January 5, I was grateful for:

1. landing the Salchow (wobbled but didn’t fall).

2. Tarquin not making a fuss about my scar.

3. two fantastic orgasms!

She crossed out two orgasms and wrote in three. The second was a double. Gnawing the end of the pen, she broke into a smile, her body aching, reliving his touch. Tarquin, you did not disappoint.

The vibration of her phone between the cushions earned an even bigger grin.

Hmm, I guess I didn’t either! I swear his mouth might be my new favorite thing. Or his penis. A rush of heat throbbed in her panties. Both? The man is truly gifted. And his stamina… jeez, he can last. She stuck her fingers into the couch’s gap and fished out her phone. An unexpected name glared back. Oh! Shantelle? I haven’t heard from her in weeks. Leia pushed herself up and eased back into the cushions, shifting her journal out of the way. It’s three a.m. back home—I hope nothing’s wrong. She tapped the screen.

Shantelle: Hey, Scotty!

A scraping sound—the pocket door to Sarah’s bedroom—tore Leia away as the piggish rattle of Jordan’s snores escaped, reverberating down the hall. Saz is up. She returned to her phone, vibrating with text after text.

“Dirty stop-out!” Sarah wheeled closer, a half-laugh fighting through her yawn.