Off Chance os-5 Read online

  The music is so loud there is no way to have a discussion amongst the group because you have to yell at the person sitting next to you just to be heard. Rowan is sitting to my right but she’s turned her back to me, talking to Fil.

  That’s fine by me because I’m being treated to a lovely view of her upper back, since her hair only comes down to the top of her shoulders. Her skin looks smooth and creamy, and with the flashing lights bouncing off, it’s practically hypnotizing.

  Nix leans back over to me and yells loud enough that thankfully only I can hear. “Rowan and Fil seem to be getting along great.”

  I nod. This was the first time they had met but they seemed to become fast friends. It makes me wonder if Rowan would have been so open with her just a few short months ago, and I tend to think not. But that could be my ego talking, because I think part of her ability to be open with people stems from her finally giving me some of her trust.

  “Maybe they’re interested in each other,” Nix yells into my ear, leaning just a little bit closer so for sure no one can hear.

  I’m startled by his comment and I turn my head to look at Rowan and Fil.

  No way! I mean, Fil is admittedly one-hundred-percent, out-of-the-closet gay, but there is no way Rowan is.

  And I tell Nix that with certainty. “You’re wrong, man.”

  Nix just shrugs and then says, “I bet you ten bucks that Fil will ask her to dance when the music turns slow.”

  “You’re fucking high, Nix. You’re so misreading that.”

  Nix just smirks at me and leans back in his chair, watching the two women talk. I see what he sees now... intimate smiles, Fil laying her hand on Rowan’s arm when she says something funny.

  What the fuck? Is Fil hitting on Rowan?

  I can’t believe I’m getting jealous over the prospect. I glance back at Nix. He’s grinning at me and I can’t figure out if he’s pulling my leg or not.

  I’m vaguely aware that the music idles to a snail’s pace crawl and I see Fil start to stand from her chair in slow motion.

  She’s actually going to ask Rowan to dance.

  Before I can even fathom what I’m doing, I stand quickly, knocking my chair back into the next table over and reach down for Rowan’s hand. Pulling her from the table, I say, “Let’s dance.”

  Fil smiles at us and yells over the music, “You kids are so cute. I’m heading to the bathroom because I’m about to burst. Anyone want anything while I’m up?”

  We both shake our heads and watch her go. Then Rowan takes the lead and heads toward the dance floor. I shoot a quick glance back at Nix and he has his hand over his mouth, hiding the fact he’s laughing at me.

  Fucker!

  Oh, well... at least I’m going to dance with Rowan.

  When we hit the dance floor, I don’t waste time letting her lead us too far in. I pull back on her arm and she turns, stepping easily into me. She lays her hands briefly on my chest, and then runs them up over my shoulders until she links them behind my neck. Mine naturally circle around her waist and I pull her in as close as I can without mashing our bodies together.

  I have the swirl of good liquor in me, soft music playing, and a beautiful girl that my heart pines for in my arms. This is a recipe for disaster... or triumph, depending on how you look at it.

  “What are you thinking?” Rowan asks.

  “You don’t want to know,” I tell her with a mischievous smile.

  Rowan leans her forehead into my chest and her shoulders shake with laughter. When she looks back up at me, her eyes are bright. Her tongue darts out and licks her lower lip, and its wetness reflects the flashing lights around us. It is taking all of my willpower not to lean in and grab her lip my teeth.

  “Want to know what I’m thinking?” she asks with a flirty giggle. She punctuates the question with a tiny hiccup, which starts her laughing again.

  “Are you drunk, young lady?” I ask, pretending to be indignant.

  Her eyes are silver pools of light as she smiles at me. “Maybe a little. So, want to know what I’m thinking?”

  I do... God, I do, so I nod at her. I want to know—especially if it’s dirty and she’ll let me sneak in just one kiss before we need to be all responsible and respect the friendship.

  Rowan tugs on my neck and my head lowers. She stands on her tiptoes and places her mouth near my ear, which also fortuitously pushes her breasts into my chest. “I’m thinking I want you to kiss me, Flynn. And I want it to be hard, and hot, and wet. That’s what I’m thinking.” She ends the statement by flicking her tongue out so it just catches me on the tip of my ear.

  That small but simple touch nearly makes my knees buckle and I pull back to look at her. She’s smiling at me with carefree abandon but there is a world of sensual heat in her eyes. I know this is fueled by alcohol and I know she’s probably going to regret this in the morning, and I’m the biggest schmuck for doing this, but I’m going to kiss her.

  And it’s going to be hard, and hot, and wet.

  I unlock the door to our apartment and my hands are practically shaking from what may be about to happen. I glance in and see Capone raise his shaggy head from where he is lying on the couch and then he lays it back down, completely bored with our arrival. He’ll need to go out soon, but he can wait. There are more important things at stake right now.

  When Rowan asked me to kiss her at the club, I obliged. And I thought it would be everything she asked for, but it was actually so much more. I didn’t go in hard like she asked, but rather feathered my lips softly against her. I let my hands spread out over her back and I rubbed her through the thin material of her dress. I softly slipped my tongue in her mouth and it flirted with hers.

  The entire kiss was so amazingly delicate compared to the ways we had kissed before, and it was the exact thing that would probably guarantee I would have not one ounce of resolve left in me when it comes to staying away from Rowan.

  When we broke apart, I glanced over at Nix and he was pointing to his watch, indicating it was time to go. We made our goodbyes, with Fil and Rowan hugging and promising to text each other. It appears she had a new BFF.

  The entire train ride back to the apartment was surreal. We sat side by side and I casually draped my arm across her shoulders. I was hyper aware of the way her leg pressed into mine, and the way her hair skimmed over the back of my hand while I stroked her shoulder with my thumb.

  We didn’t say a word but I could feel the sexual tension vibrating between us.

  Unfortunately, the short, but frigid, walk from the station to the apartment did nothing to cool my desire; it only served to sober me up slightly so I might be thinking a bit clearer.

  I push the door open and step aside for Rowan to enter in front of me, my hand on the small of her back, guiding her in. I have no clue what my next move should be, or even if there should be a next move. All I know is that I want her back in my arms and I want to try out her idea of that hot, hard, and wet kiss.

  As soon as I step through the door and close it, Rowan spins around and launches herself at me. Her arms curve around my neck and with a quick jump, her legs wrap around my waist, causing my hands to involuntarily reach down and grab her under her ass to hold her in place.

  That may not have been such a good idea because her dress is now hiked up to her hips and she’s apparently only wearing a thong because I am now holding on to sinful, naked ass.

  Her mouth latches onto mine and we are now fully engaged in hard, hot, and wet. I spin her around and push her back into the door, and as I grind my dick against her, I can only think to myself, Yes, this is what I’ve been waiting for.

  Rowan gasps into my mouth, “I shouldn’t have done that. We should stop.”

  I respond by moving my tongue hard against hers, and then I pull away, nipping at her lower lip. “I’ll stop if you want.”

  “Yes,” she says, and my heart bottoms out. Then she says, “No... don’t stop,” and she kisses me harder, knocking our teeth against one an
other.

  The minute she gives me the go ahead, I shift one hand. As I’m still gripping her bottom, it brings my middle finger in proximity to her thong. She feels the change in my position and moans. I shift again, and hook my finger in the bottom of her underwear, pulling it aside.

  For a second, Rowan goes still and I think she has snapped her out of her lust-induced haze, but she moans low in her throat and rasps, “Not good, Flynn. Not good.”

  Then Rowan pushes her hips downward and twists them to the side, bringing her slick core in direct contact with my finger. The heat is searing and I only stroke against her one time... because that’s all I have in me, before I push my finger deep inside of her. Her hips buck hard, lodging me even deeper, and a strangled gasp comes out of her mouth while her nails flex into my scalp. I silence it down with another kiss and push her harder into the wall.

  My world is fracturing and every semblance of normalcy is flying out the window. I give one last, lingering thought to stopping this... because Rowan’s inhibitions are lowered because of the alcohol and I should protect her from this. I’m betting in the harsh light of day and completely sober, she wouldn’t want this.

  I consider it... just briefly, and then I tell myself to piss off. I want her too much and I’ll worry about the consequences later. I’m inflamed with lust, and love, and it’s all tied up into one painful knot, but it’s going to unravel tonight.

  I pull my finger out and add a second before plunging back in. She cries against my lips and it sounds sweet to me.

  Pulling my face back, I look at her and her eyes are partially closed. When she realizes my lips aren’t against hers anymore, she opens her eyes. My fingers are pumping in and out of her slowly and her hips tilt against my hand with every thrust. We stay like that, for just a few moments, just watching each other as she rides my hand.

  “Rowan,” I whisper, and her eyes focus more sharply on me, even as a little gasp of breath hitches out past her lips. “I want to make you come, and then I want to make you mine. Say you want it, too. Tell me you want this.”

  I’m pleading for her to say the words that will ease my own guilt, because if she tells me point blank she wants me, I don’t have to worry so much that I may be taking advantage of the situation.

  “I...” she starts to say, but a particularly deep push of my fingers cuts her words off. She grasps her lower lip in between her teeth and her eyes close as she moves against my hand.

  “Say it,” I urge her, desperate for the words. “Say you want more than just a friendship with me.”

  When I look back and analyze how things went to shit so quickly, I’ll pinpoint the word “friendship” as the pivotal moment that stalled my impending apocalyptic orgasm. The minute the words are out of my mouth, Rowan’s hips go absolutely still and the heat dies out of her eyes. Her eyebrows furrow inward and she slowly closes her eyes, lowering her forehead to my shoulder.

  “We need to stop, Flynn,” she says softly.

  I’m not willing to give in just yet so I move my fingers against her inner walls, curling them to hit that spot that I’ve seen splinter women apart before. She moans into my shoulder but then pushes back against me.

  “Stop,” she says with more force, and I immediately stop, pulling my fingers out of her and holding her in place under her thighs for just a moment before I lower her to the floor.

  It is only then that I notice my chest is heaving with exertion and Rowan has a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead as she pulls her skirt back down. I hadn’t realized how hot and heavy we were going until just now... how far things had gotten out of control and so fast.

  My hands may not be on her anymore and my head is cleared a bit, but I’m not ready to give up. “Rowan... don’t pull away. Let it happen. You were right there with me. I know it.”

  She looks up at me and there is a thin veil of tears in her eyes. My heart is breaking for her. “I was... right there with you. But I can’t. I know you’re tired of hearing that and I’m so sorry I led you on. I had too much to drink and was terribly wrong to do that. But I can’t risk the friendship.”

  “You can, Rowan. You’re braver than this. If you just give it a chance, I know we will work. I can feel it. I want you to—”

  “NO!” Rowan yells at me and I take a small step back from the venom in her voice. Her eyes flash hot and pissed for a second, but then it dies just as quickly. Her voice is softer when she says again. “No. Don’t ask me again, Flynn.”

  My heart slices open at those words and I bleed pain all over. I know Rowan enough to know when she’s drawing a firm line in the sand and this is it. Still, I’m going to try one more time.

  “Rowan... wait...” but she cuts me off by holding up her hand to me.

  “Flynn... hear me out. It’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let it and I need you to let it go. In fact, you have got to move on from me. Find yourself someone deserving and make a new start. I’m here... as your friend. But only as your friend.”

  She gives me one last look and heads to her bedroom, Capone padding after her.

  19

  Dipping my spoon into the pot, I pull out a small bit of sauce and taste it. My stomach grumbles because I’m starving but I’m going to wait and boil the pasta when Flynn gets home from work. I haven’t seen him much because he’s picked up some overtime the last few weeks, so I’m excited for him to walk in that door.

  I’ve missed him a lot.

  Walking into the living room, I glance at the clock. He should be here any moment. I turn on the TV and after less than thirty seconds of flipping channels, I know that won’t keep my mind occupied. I pick up a magazine from the coffee table but as soon as I open it, I throw it back down in frustration.

  My mind is whirring with excitement over seeing Flynn, but I’m also stressed as well because I have no clue where I stand with him. Every day, I feel crushing guilt over pushing him away. I’m mortified that my body reacted to him... almost viscerally, and my mind took over and stopped what I’m sure would have been a night of mind-blowing passion. I’m weighed down by the knowledge that I led Flynn on, my face turning red when I think about the way I pushed myself up and down on his fingers. I egged him on every bit of the way, and then I shut him down, officially making myself the world’s biggest prick tease.

  When I closed myself in my room that night, I cried my eyes out because I knew I had hurt him. But I kept telling myself over and over again, it would be okay. We’d wake up the next day and things would be just the way they were. We could take Capone for a walk and stop at a bakery for breakfast. We could laugh at silly things and compare our knowledge of famous movie lines. We would be the Rowan and Flynn of old... the best of buddies.

  Except, that isn’t what happened. While Flynn hasn’t been anything but his usual nice and charming self when he’s around me, he offers me nothing more than that. It’s like he’s making himself keep a respectful distance from me, because... yes, that’s what I told him to do.

  And yes... it hurts, and I have no right to be hurt, and yet I hurt all the same. My head is so fucked up over this, and when push comes to shove, I’m not sure I made the right decision. What if I missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime? Sure, that’s a possibility, right? Because, otherwise, why am I constantly yearning for all things Flynn Caldwell?

  For example, not two weeks ago, I was content with our friendship. Every little thing we learned about each other was an amazing discovery. Every time I opened myself up a little bit more to Flynn, I discovered another part of my heart that wasn’t irrevocably damaged.

  It was all enough for me.

  Until I pushed him away and shut the door on him for good.

  And now, I’m just miserable over the fact that this could have been a very bad decision. Our friendship has taken a hit, I’m sure. We don’t have the same level of ease that we once did. I was so worried all the time about the friendship ending that I never realized that it could possibly be hurt by not moving f
orward. At this point, we’re just stagnating.

  I guess that’s why I’m so anxious for Flynn to get home. I want to look in his eyes and see if there is a spark of attraction left or have I killed all of it. That explains why I took a shower late this afternoon, blew out my hair until it was soft and silky, and took great care with my makeup. It’s why I put on my most flattering jeans and a blouse rather than a t-shirt. I’ve sunk so low that I even put on some lip gloss, because I heard that a woman’s lips can capture a man’s attention faster than anything.

  This is a sick game I’m playing with Flynn. I’ve repeatedly kept him at bay, only to now want to pull him back in. I absolutely hate myself that I could be hurting him further, and yet I can’t stop the compulsion that is making me reach out to him. I miss what we had, and I really want more.

  I think.

  I’m still not quite sure about anything.

  I hate myself.

  When I hear the keys rattling in the locks, my heart skips a beat and then I jump from the couch and sprint into the bathroom. I turn on the light and give myself a quick once-over, rubbing my fingertip at the corner of my lips to remove stray gloss.

  When I head back into the living room, Flynn is dropping his duffel bag to the floor and greeting Capone. He bends over and puts his hands on both sides of his face, vigorously rubbing behind his ears. Capone actually lets out a groan of satisfaction and Flynn chuckles. His dimple pops out and my heart sighs in response.

  “Hey,” I say, grabbing his attention.

  He looks up and smiles. It’s friendly, charming, and affectionate. “Hey, yourself.” He then looks at me a bit harder and I hold my breath. “You look really nice. What’s the occasion?”

  He noticed and I want to break out into a jig over the fact. Instead, I put on a friendly smile and say, “No occasion. Just wearing some different clothes is all.”