Kelly

HOT WATER PELTS MY SKIN, and I close my eyes as I raise my head to the shower stream, deep grunts mingling with the low ding of the droplets as they hit the glass shower surfaces. My palm slides over my cock in jerky thrusts as I near the tipping point. Visions of white-blonde hair tickle my skin, tangled in my hands as I yank her head back to reveal her throat, the sun-kissed golden skin a tease. I lick my way up the column of her neck, taking her ear between my teeth with a rough tug. I imagine the noises she'd make as I pinch her nipples and squeeze her tits in my greedy hands. As the fantasy plays out in my head, I thrust my hips into my hand, pretending I'm inside her, about to come.

"Sutton," I groan on a loud, breathy exhale as ropes of cum coat my hand and shower wall, almost instantly rinsed away.

Breathing heavily, I turn around, reveling in the hot spray on my back. Once I settle back into the present, a gradual wave of disappointment and longing washes through me.

I hate jerking off to thoughts of her almost as much as I love it. I've been unable to curb the desire and almost debilitating need to get off on thoughts of her for weeks now. Daily. Twice daily. Every morning and every night. It's my every wakeup call and every goodnight kiss. This woman and my obsession with her grow exponentially every day, and at this point I'm mildly to moderately frightened it might be my undoing.

I wash quickly and step out of the shower, wrapping a large gray towel around my waist before trudging to my closet to dress for the day. As I rifle through my drawer of t-shirts, my mind wanders to last night, namely my slightly inebriated state. I'm not sure what compelled me to drink so much. I rarely overindulge on weekdays, but something about the uneasiness between me and Sutton bothered me. The way we fell right back into our old pattern of behavior caught me by surprise, especially witnessing the way it affected Sutton. She wore her confusion and hurt across her face, unable to hide it; and the way she interacted with me tore into my very being like a quick slice of a knife through my gut.

Being dismissed by Sutton may probably be the single worst thing in the world.

Up until now, I've always felt like I had the upper hand. The one completely in charge of my feelings and expectations and clearly defined set of rules. But one night with Sutton giving me the cold shoulder and, worse, her disapproval, and I've fully been put in my place.

I have zero fucking control when it comes to that girl. I'm utterly at her mercy, and it's 100% terrifying.

Plus—and most importantly—it's all moot. None of it matters when it'll always be as it is. Nothing more than a wish, a daydream, a mere fantasy to get me off in the shower.

Yet. Yet, I consciously choose to submit myself to the regular torture of being in her presence. Why? Because I realize the alternative would be to live in a world without her and that would be far worse.

Any bit of Sutton is preferable to no Sutton at all, no matter the price it pays to my mental health.

-

THE GRUMBLING OF MY STOMACH ALERTS ME that it's lunchtime, and I scan the open room of our office building. Archie's red head is ducked over a stack of papers, and when I call his name, he glances up.

"Yeah, boss?" he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Can you give me another ride somewhere?" Since my truck is still at the Anderson farm, I had Archie bring me to work this morning. "I need to grab my truck."

"Sure thing. I was thinking of grabbing some lunch somewhere anyway." He stands and pushes the chair in. "Ready?"

On the drive over, Archie rambles on about the latest documentary he's watching, and I feign interest. The closer we get to the farm, though, the more consumed my thoughts are of Sutton. When I hop out of his car with a quick thanks, I bypass the parking lot where my truck sits and walk directly to The Flower Shop instead.

An older lady with short, curly, gray hair greets me as I wander in; and I notice a woman in her mid-forties working behind the counter with a large basket of flowers. The one woman I'm searching for is nowhere in sight, though.

"Can we help you?" the older lady asks with a sweet smile.

"Uh, yeah," I stammer, removing my hat to rake my fingers through my hair. "Is Sutton around?"

"She's running errands on her lunch break right now. Did you need her for something we can help you with instead?"

I scan the displays of flowers and an idea hits me. "Actually, yeah, maybe." I aimlessly walk around, plucking random flowers to create another unique bouquet for my girl since she seemed to like the last one so much, even if she denies it. After paying for the flower arrangement, the younger woman asks if I want to include a card. She motions to a tower with small rectangular cards on display.

I snatch one at random and quickly jot down a note. I reread the message before handing it and the flowers over to the woman. "Will you make sure Sutton gets these, please?"

The woman reads the card aloud, "Because even florists like to get flowers sometimes. -K" She wears a sly smile when she looks at me. "I didn't realize our girl had a special someone in her life."

I laugh, ducking my head to hide the heat creeping into my cheeks. "It's not really like that." Tapping the counter once, I spin on my heels and walk out of the shop.

-

A QUICK GLANCE AT THE CLOCK TELLS me it's almost time to meet Sutton at her parents' house. I decide to use the bathroom before heading out. When I come back out, I'm greeted by familiar feminine laughter. Sutton is perched on the table in the middle of the large room, seated dangerously close to my red-headed employee, who is leaned back in his chair before a stack of papers.

Archie taps the eraser end of a pencil against the table as he talks, his full attention directed at the guest. Sutton throws her head back and laughs again, placing a hand on his shoulder, her touch lingering a tad too long for my comfort. The intimacy of the moment doesn't sit well in my stomach, and I clench and unclench my fists as I cross the room with a deliberate calm I don't necessarily feel.

"What are you doing here?" I ask once I'm only a few steps away. "I thought we were meeting at your dad's?"

I stop directly in front of Sutton, resting my hands on her thighs as I bend down to kiss her cheek. The gesture surprises her, her soft gasp a whisper in my ear. I don't remove my hands as I turn my attention toward my employee, a move I'm well aware reads possessive. Claiming. Archie must receive the message because he squirms in his seat, the pencil tapping a staccato beat.

Sutton's voice interrupts the tension. "I thought I'd show up at your place of work like you did mine."

She stands from her seat on the table, and I notice her appearance for the first time. Her usual work wardrobe of denim overalls has been exchanged for a pair of wide-legged jeans that fit snugly in all the right places. Her shirt is a cropped yellow tank top that hugs the curves of her body. It's the sliver of skin between the shirt and pants that my eyes snag on, though, the golden temptation too much to resist.

When I notice Archie appreciating the same things as me, I clear my throat and shoot him a warning look.

"I see you've met Archie already?"

"Actually," she says, bringing my attention to her face, and I almost miss what she says because I'm distracted by the sight. Her usually light makeup has been replaced with a heavier hand. Charcoal lines her eyes, the turquoise irises piercing into me. I'm locked on her red-stained lips as she speaks. "Archie and I went to school together. He was in a bit of a rivalry with Vivi."

Archie scoffs. "It was a one-sided rivalry of your sister's making. I only pretended to participate because I could see it ruffled her feathers so much."

Sutton laughs. "You were always good at getting under her skin."

"It was kind of a hobby of mine, but I don't want to brag." Using his pointer finger, he scoots his glasses up his nose.

"Man, I can't wait to get home and tell her I ran into you. Actually, wait," she says, digging her phone from her back pocket, "let's take a selfie so I can torture her by text."

Archie stands and Sutton wraps an arm around his waist as she holds the phone up above them snapping a ridiculous amount of pictures. She scrolls through them on her camera roll before quickly shooting a text off to her sister. She's laughing as she shows her screen to him.

"Look who I bumped into, sis," he reads aloud. "And he's all grown up now."

Archie's skin turns a shade of pink under his freckles. Sutton notices. "Are you blushing? Surely you know you're a cutie, right?"

Is she flirting with him? Right in front of me? The whole scene is pissing me off, and I have to curb the impulse to shove the redhead away and throw my girl over my shoulder to haul her away. I don't know how to deal with these raging feelings of jealousy.

"You ready?" I grit out between clenched teeth.

Sutton glances at me quickly before returning her attention back to Archie. "In a minute," she says, holding a finger up. "You should come to Roxy's some Friday if you want. We're always there."

He subtly shifts his eyes to me, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels. "Yeah, maybe."

She squeezes his upper arm and smiles at him. "Maybe I'll see you then." He nods at her and avoids my gaze as he sinks back into his chair.

"Ready?" She finally acknowledges me.

"If you're done flirting up my employees."

She brushes by me, and I swear I see the beginnings of a smug smile. I don't hide my overt ass-gawking as I follow her out of the office building.

On the sidewalk, I pull my keys from my pocket, but Sutton covers a hand over mine. "I'm driving." She tilts her head toward her car. "Get in."

I raise her hand to my lips, brushing a kiss on her knuckles. "No, baby girl. I'm driving."

"Don't think so, buddy. I invited you, so I drive." She steals the keys from my hand and shoves them back into my pants pocket. The move surprises me, her hands in my pants momentarily paralyzing me, and she uses the opportunity to her advantage. She's sitting in her car, pulling the door closed, before I even realize it's happened.

Rushing over, I crawl into the passenger seat and immediately see the flowers I gave her sitting in a vase in the cupholder.

"Nice flowers," I say with a smirk. "Got yourself an admirer?"

She shrugs, glancing at me with a smile. "Nah, they're from some old dude."

"Brat." I laugh as I buckle myself in.

Laughing, she pulls the car out onto the road. "Just giving you a hard time. That was really sweet of you. Thank you, Kelly. You know you have two swooning fans at The Flower Shop now, right? They wouldn't shut up about the hotty who swooped in on a breeze."

"Hotty, huh? Sounds about right."

My feet knock against a McDonald's Happy Meal box on the floor. I pick it up and toss it in the backseat. It joins the other trash and miscellaneous items back there. "Baby girl," I say, "your car is a dump. And there's a smell." I crack the window as if airing it out.

She slams on the brakes, nearly ramming into the rearend of the car ahead of us. "Jackass! It was yellow! You had plenty of time!"

I bark out a laugh at Sutton's road rage. I'd forgotten how easily she's set off while driving. She honks the moment the light turns green and follows closely behind the car until she's able to pass him. The driver flips her the bird. I reach for the "oh shit" handle as she increases speed around a curve, the tires hugging the shoulder.

"Whoa, baby girl. I see you're still training to be a NASCAR driver."

"I see you're still a big baby about it," she retorts with a grin.

When she starts messing with the radio, the car drifts over the center line by a few inches. Knocking her hand away, I take over scanning through the local radio stations. "You worry about getting to our destination safely. Preferably alive."

We ride in silence for a few moments, the wind from the open window rustling Sutton's hair. She has half her hair pulled up, a clip loosely securing it in place.

When I can't take it anymore, I finally break down and broach the topic I've been trying not to bring up. "Archie, huh?" When her only response is a brief glance my way, I ask, "Why'd you invite him to Roxy's?"

"Took you long enough to bring him up. I'm impressed with your self-restraint. He's an adorkable little thing, no?"

"Adorkable?"

"Yeah, dork plus adorable."

"So is that your thing then?"

A strand of hair flies into her face and I absently reach over to brush it away. The hair feels soft
in my rough hands, momentarily distracting me. It isn't until we pull up to her parents' house in
the familiar cul-de-sac that I realize she never answered my questions.

I follow her out of the car to the front porch of her parents' house, the faded yellow door greeting us. Sutton knocks twice before opening the door and yelling a greeting. "Hello! Anybody home?"

When there's no answer, she shrugs and turns to me. "I guess it's just us. Want something to drink before we head up?" She points toward the kitchen that's through the living room.

"I'm good for now. Lead the way."

She heads down the narrow hallway with bedroom doors lining both sides, and I'm instantly thrust some 15-20 years in the past traipsing down this same hallway. Eight-year-old Kelly in Star Wars jammies. Thirteen-year-old Kelly whispering about girls. Seventeen-year-old Kelly pilfering alcohol to go see girls. The only difference is my companion. Back then the person I followed was Jensen.

You'd think this notion would be a sobering reminder why I need to tread carefully, but considering the way my eyes eagerly eat up everything about her presence—the delicious curves, the mesmerizing way she moves her body, her addicting smell, the inexplicable thing that is just her—it's safe to assume I'm far too gone to take heed.

A quick glance over her shoulder tells me she clocks my blatant perusal of her body, and I resist the urge to wink. I'm not sure if it was the awkward way we interacted at Jensen's BBQ or witnessing her flirting in front of me, but something shifted a bit. I know it's a dangerous game, allowing my thoughts to drift into a make-believe world where I can openly pursue this girl, no strings or complications attached. Because the thing about allowing such thoughts in, someday they might just latch on, and then what happens when it's impossible to move on?

At the end of the hall, she stops and eyes the ceiling as if deliberating something. Then, without warning, she jumps as high as she can, reaching her hand up. When she lands with an oomph, I notice a short rope dangling from the ceiling. Her hand must have just skimmed it, causing it to swing back and forth.

Moving her aside, I pop off the ground, effortlessly snatching the rope and tugging on it, releasing a set of old wobbly stairs from the hatch. The attic, I assume.

"Huh, all these years and I never knew this was here."

"We avoid this haunted space like the plague."

"Haunted?" My lips curl up at her shiver. "Scared, baby girl?" I rub my hands up and down her arms in fake reassurance.

Swatting me away, she sets one foot on the bottom step. "Enter at your own risk."

If I thought the view walking down the hallway behind her was nice, it doesn't come close to Sutton climbing up the creaky stairs, her round ass in those tight jeans on full display. Once she wobbles, I hurry behind her, steadying her with my hands on her hips. "Careful, baby girl." My voice is a husky whisper in her ear.

She juts her butt out to me playfully, and I resist the very strong urge to swat her ass. Instead, I keep my hands on her hips the whole way up, as much as a deterrent to stop hands from wandering as a way to keep her safe. I let go once we've made it to the top and I step beside her to take in the cramped space, the slanted roof making it awkward to stand upright.

Light from the lone window on the far side of the attic cuts through the room, dust particles dancing in the light rays. Sutton buries her face in the crook of her arm and sneezes in rapid succession.

"Bless you, baby girl." Amusement coats my voice, but I can't help it. Sutton sneezing is freaking cute.

"It's the dust. Dust hates me." She sneezes a few more times to demonstrate her point, and I laugh, throwing my arms up to protect myself when she attempts to swat me.

"I'm convinced there isn't a thing you can do that isn't cute, sneezing included, apparently."

"Ha ha," she says, rolling her eyes. "Don't be a jerk, Kelly."

"I'm being serious, Sutton. Take the compliment."

She casts a skeptical look my way. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm wary of your brand of compliments."

"My brand of compliments?" I cross my arms over my chest, trying to decide if I'm amused or annoyed by her comment.

"You aren't exactly known for being nice to me. Bossy and overprotective, definitely. Overly complimentary? Umm....not so much." She gives me her back as she starts to assess the cramped space, holding her phone up with the flashlight on for more light.

I take a few moments to digest her comment, realizing she probably has a point, but before I can respond, she's moved on to a corner of the attic. She takes a series of pictures before her fingers fly over the keys quickly.

"Did you find something?" I ask, coming up behind her. I read the boxes over her shoulder: CORINNE.

Sutton finishes her text and turns to face me. We're mere inches apart, and I can't seem to quell the urge to touch her, so instead of listening to all the instinctual warnings going off inside me, I go rogue. Her eyes pop up to mine the minute my fingers graze across her cheek, softly brushing the flyaway hairs behind her ear, then combing through the long strands.

"Who's Corinne?" I ask once I realize she never answered me.

"JJ's mom. I sent her a picture to let her know about the boxes with her mom's name on them. Figured she might want to know if she already doesn't."

She steps around me, shining the phone's flashlight on more boxes. "I can't decide which is worse," she says as she searches among the clutter. "Me with no memory of my mom or JJ with plenty of memories of her mom. She remembers her mom but the memories aren't exactly all warm and fuzzy, ya know?"

She looks over her shoulder at me as if genuinely asking my opinion. I step up next to her, setting my palm on her lower back. I look down at her as I say, "I'm not sure it's a fair comparison. I can't speak for JJ, but I can guess it's a complicated business. Her mom was obviously very troubled, but I'm sure deep down there was plenty of love for her daughter."

She glances away, returning to studying the boxes. "I suppose it doesn't matter much anyway. We're both affected by our moms, just in different ways, I suppose."

Grabbing her phone out of her hand, I turn her to look at me. "Sutton, no matter what you find in these boxes, you need to know your mom loved and wanted you. I was young, but even I could see that. Even as a little boy, I gravitated to your house because I instinctually knew it was a warm and loving environment. Your mom created that. I think it's safe to say that if she had the chance, she would have been an incredible mom to you."

She attempts to turn away, but I grab her chin, forcing her eyes on me. "I know you're here on some wild goose chase to figure out what happened the year your mom and dad were separated. You've put a lot of stock into this for whatever reason. I don't exactly understand it, but I worry that you might not like what you find. I'm not saying you should stop. I know you won't listen to me anyway. But can you at least promise to do what you need to do to protect yourself from it?"

"Like what?" Her eyes are wide, the blue appearing deeper in the dark attic, as she peers up at me.

Shrugging, I caress my thumb across the soft skin on her cheek. "I don't know, baby girl. Have a support buddy?"

She laughs, the sound echoing in the room. "Are you volunteering, Kelly?"

"Sure. Why not? Why is that so funny?"

Shaking her head, she steps out of my reach, returning to her search. "You are one big ball of confusing. You know that, right, Kell? You confuse me on the daily."

Before I have the chance at a rebuttal, she gasps. I look where the flashlight is shining, directing my eyes to a box with big black letters scrawled across it: EVE. Without waiting for her to ask, I step around her and pull the box down. It is sandwiched between us, and Sutton looks between the box and me a few times, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Baby girl?" My voice is barely above a whisper. "You ok?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess I'm just realizing I didn't expect to find anything, because suddenly I'm a little nervous."

She sinks to the floor, settling on her knees, the action upsetting the layers of dust beneath her, and she sneezes into her elbow again. I join her, setting the box between us. When she hesitates with her hand on the box flaps, I place mine over hers. "We don't have to do this here. Right now. Do you want to bring it home and do it some place more comfortable?"

Shaking her head, she says, "That's just prolonging the inevitable. Let's just rip the Band-Aid off, yeah?"

I remove my hand and she immediately tears the box flaps open, revealing the contents. She fingers a few items before pulling out a framed 8x10 photo. It's a picture of her mom; and judging by how young she looks, I'm guessing it's before she had kids, maybe in her early twenties.

"Whoa," I whistle. "She was a looker." It's no lie. Eve Anderson was very pretty, almost an exact replica of her daughter. The same white-blonde hair and electric blue eyes. In the photo, Eve is looking over her shoulder, staring right into the camera, and the easy way she carries herself suggests she has an intimate relationship with the photographer.

"Looker?" Sutton laughs. "What? Are you 80? Who says that anymore?"

"Fine," I say with amusement. "She's really pretty. Is that better? The resemblance is very strong. Like mother, like daughter."

Lines crinkle her forehead as she assesses me. "Are you calling me pretty, Kelly? Because it kind of sounds like you were calling me pretty." A wry smile creeps across her lips, the only sign that she is trying to blow off the compliment.

I gawk at her, suddenly aware that she has no idea how beautiful she is. How can she not know?

"You have no idea, do you?" I ask, sitting back on my heels to study her reaction. Dust particles flutter around us in the light rays.

She blinks at me. "What?"

I reach across the space between us, lifting her chin with my finger to angle her head at the perfect height to peer into her eyes. I open my mouth to tell her exactly how beautiful I think she is, but suddenly a voice interrupts the moment.

"Sutton! Sutton! You here?"

Seconds later, feet on the staircase echo in the small space, followed by a head appearing in the hole in the floor. "Sutton?" Jensen asks, taking in the scene.

I drop my hand, stuffing it behind my back as if I were caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Jensen clocks the abrupt movement, his eyes roaming from me to his sister and then back to me. "Kelly?"

When neither of us jumps in to explain the situation, Jensen climbs the rest of the way up and joins us in the attic. "What's this?" he asks, lightly kicking the box we're kneeling in front of.

Sutton shows the picture to her brother. "It's mom's stuff," she finally explains.

Jensen takes the frame from his sister, studying it for long moments. "No shit." His voice is a gruff whisper. "What else is in there?"

"That's as far as we got before you barreled up here. What are you doing here anyway?"

Just then more voices call out from inside the house. Jensen nods toward the hole in the floor he just popped up. "That would be the rest of the moving crew. Dad recruited us to help him move furniture since they just bought a new sectional or some shit." He turns his eyes on me. "We could use an extra man. You game?"

"Uh," I hesitate, looking to Sutton for direction, but her eyes are fixed on the box between us.

Jensen seems to notice, and his expression softens as he drops to his knees next to his sister. His fingers graze over the glass covering the photograph. "I almost forgot about this necklace. She never took it off."

Sutton fingers the necklace over the glass, a faraway look on her face. The necklace is a tiny silver heart pendant on a short chain, the heart dangling right along her clavicle. "What happened to it? The necklace?" She looks up at her brother and I know he sees the sadness drooping his sister's usually smiling face.

He shrugs. "Probably buried with it is my guess."

Sutton absently fingers the ghost of a necklace around her neck, her eyes going back to the box. "You can help the guys," she says to me in a quiet, reserved voice. "I'll just take the box home and look through it later."

When she stands and attempts to lift the box, I grab it from her hands. "I got it, baby girl." With a slight nod of her head in acknowledgement, she leads the way across the small, stuffy room to the hole in the floor. We follow her down the stairs into the house, and I gulp in a huge breath of the fresh air.

"There you are," Charlie greets us as we file into the living room one by one. Charlie, Finn, Ike and Maxine are huddled around an old couch as if formulating an extraction game plan.

"You found your sister and an extra body," Maxine chirps as she rounds the group of men to pull her stepdaughter into a tight embrace. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asks, pulling slightly out of the hug to get a look at Sutton's face.

Sutton shakes her head. "Nothing. I'm fine. Just having a moment, I guess. We found some of my mom's old stuff." She gestures toward the box in my hands. She perks up a bit, stepping out of her stepmom's arms to address her father. "Hey, Dad. Did mom leave any jewelry behind? Like the heart necklace Jensen said she never took off?"

Ike scratches his round belly, lost in thought. "She did always wear that thing, didn't she?" He's looking at Jensen, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "If memory serves, she was buried in it, sweetie." He turns his attention back to his daughter. "If not, it'd be in that box, I'm guessing."

She nods once. "Ok, well, I'll leave you guys to it. Kelly," she addresses me with her hands out, an obvious request for the box. "You'll catch a ride with one of my brothers, yeah?"

I ignore her hands, keeping the box firmly in my grip. "I told you I got it, Sutton."

"I can carry a box, Kelly," she says through gritted teeth.

Before she can argue more, I cross the room and exit the house through the yellow front door that has been propped open in preparation to lug furniture in and out. I can hear Sutton following me in a huff. I'm pretty sure if rolling your eyes made a sound, I'd hear that, too.

At her car, I open the back door, shoving stuff aside on the seat to make room for the box. I shut it and lean my body against it. Sutton stands before me, dust coating the knees of her jeans from where she knelt on the attic floor.

"Thanks," she says almost begrudgingly, but then clears her throat and tries again. "I mean it. Thanks, Kelly. I know I'm being grumpy right now, but I do appreciate you doing this with me. Although I could have easily carried that box, I can acknowledge it was a nice gesture. So thank you. Now kindly move aside so I can go home and eat my feelings while looking through the rest of the box."

Instead of moving, I cross my arms over my chest. "Why don't you wait for me. I can go through the box with you."

"As an emotional support buddy?" She crinkles her nose. "Thanks, but I think I got this."

"Don't be a stubborn brat, baby girl. You're obviously up in your feelings and I just want to be there for you." I stand to my full height, hovering over her by a full head. Brushing my hands down her arms starting at her shoulders, I grip her elbows. "You don't need to do this alone, Sutton."

She takes a step back, and I follow, not allowing her the space she's trying to take. Placing a hand on my chest to block further movement from me, she tilts her head up to look at me. The blue of her eyes shimmer in the late afternoon light, and I swear I can see the emotion swirling through them. "It's fine, Kelly. I'm fine. Just go help my brothers. They're probably getting pissed waiting for you."

She steps around me, opening her car door. Before she can crawl inside, though, I grip her arm. She cocks her head to look at me over her shoulder. I step into her space, my front nearly touching her back as I lean down so my mouth is at her ear. "I never got the chance to say it before," I say in a voice barely above a whisper. It's hard not to notice when she involuntarily shivers since we're so close. With my grip still on her arm, I maneuver her body just enough that she's facing me, and I run the back of my hand over the soft skin of her cheek. "I was interrupted before," I begin again, "but you need to know how fucking beautiful you are. Stunning, Sutton. You're fucking stunning."

Before she has a chance to respond, I take a step back, then another, my eyes scanning her from head to toe and back up before I turn and walk back to the house. I hear her car start just as I'm walking through the front door, and I quickly school my face as I return to the Anderson brothers in the living room. "So about this couch?"

"About time," Finn groans. "How long does it take to bring a box to the car?"

An hour later when I'm alone with Jensen in his truck, I pull out my phone. My best friend glances at me as he makes the trek across town back to my office to retrieve my truck. "So," he says in a tone that feels a lot like the beginning of a conversation I don't want to have. I suppress a groan and wait. Then wait some more.

"Uh," I say, turning to my friend. "So...."

He pulls onto the street in front of my office, the streetlights illuminating the space around us in the early night. He puts the truck in park, allowing the anticipation to build between us, the only sound the din of the radio in the background. Finally, he turns to me. "So...you've been spending quite a bit of time with Sutton lately..." He lets the sentence trail off into the dark truck.

I yank the hat off my head, pulling at my hair in a nervous tell that I can't seem to control. "If you're trying to make a point, you'll need to use more words, J. Yes, Sutton and I have been hanging out more...." I let my sentence trail off in the same manner as he did.

"Words will be the least of your problems if this new friendship with my sister leads to any hurt feelings on her end." He juts his chin, a simple warning between friends. "Don't play games with her."

With a hand on the door handle, my desire to flee this scene very strong, I face my best friend. "It's not like that, J." He nods at me, a simple gesture I know to mean the conversation has ended. I hop out of the car but before shutting the door, I lean into the vehicle. "The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt her, J. I hope you'd at least know that."

As soon as Jensen drives away, I unlock my truck and hop in. Before driving away, I look at my phone again, frowning when there are still no new notifications. I quickly type out a message before throwing my phone into a cup holder and putting my truck in drive. It doesn't light up with a reply, and there's still not one waiting for me once I pull into my driveway.

ME: Hey, baby girl. Talk to me.