The Life That Mattered (The Life Series Book 1) Page 4

  “Are you two having sex again … without me?” Lila yawned.

  “Someone didn’t take her sleeping pills.” Graham tsked.

  I shook my head. “Please tell me you’re not drugging my friend.”

  “Not drugs, Evie. You know I would never do that.” Lila shuffled into the room. “Herbs. Valerian. I’ve had trouble sleeping while trying to work full-time and planning a wedding.” She crawled into the bed and burrowed under the covers next to me. “I didn’t take one tonight because I thought the wine should do it. But then I woke up, and Graham was gone. I knew he’d be here with you.”

  “Well, I don’t want him. You can take him.”

  She laughed. “I’m done with him for tonight too.”

  Graham collapsed onto the bed, pressing his chest to Lila’s back so we were three spoons neatly nestled in my bed. “I’m feeling like a threesome tonight. Who’s in?” His husky voice crushed my hopes of it being a joke.

  With wide eyes, I glanced over my shoulder. Graham’s hand confirmed his intent as it snaked between me and Lila, diving between her legs, rubbing her over her silk pajama bottoms.

  “Graham, stop…” she breathed his name with little conviction.

  My head jerked away, eyes still unblinking.

  “Touch Evelyn like I’m touching you, baby.”

  My whole body stiffened. “No, baby, do not touch me like he’s touching you.”

  Lila ran her hand down my arm which made Graham moan. It did something to me too, but I wasn’t sure what.

  “Evie, you were my first kiss,” she whispered in my ear.

  My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

  No threesomes.

  No way.

  We weren’t those kind of friends, even if Lila and I practiced kissing on each other before we ever kissed a guy. It was science … an experiment of sorts, not preparation for a threesome.

  The bed moved slightly as Graham rocked his pelvis against the back of Lila. Her breath hitched, and her hand slid to my hip, fingers digging into my flesh. She was intoxicated. The Lila I knew would not engage in such behavior.

  I was … well, I was nervous and panicked, but also curious. While I didn’t feel tipsy anymore, the residual alcohol in my blood had to be the reason I remained in that spot, perfectly still, instead of flying out of the bed—shocked and offended.

  Lila inched her hand from my hip to my breast.

  “Fuck yes …” Graham’s throaty enthusiasm did nothing for me.

  “Do you like that, Evie?” Lila pressed her lips next to my ear as her thumb brushed my nipple over my nightshirt.

  Graham kept one hand between her legs, and god only knows where he had his other hand, but no doubt giving her pleasure. His pleasure seemed to come from her exploring my breast.

  “Do you?” I muttered, not feeling it like I felt the pull in the hallway with Ronin. Not feeling it like she felt Graham’s touch.

  “I …” her warm breath washed over the side of my face, tiny little pants in response to Graham getting her off. At least, I hoped it was Graham and not me.

  Was that what rich people did? Alcohol, sleeping pills, and threesomes?

  I found it a little perverted, kind of gross, but still … oddly mesmerizing like I wasn’t really the one on the bed with them. My body no longer belonged to me. These three close friends entertained an odd curiosity, but I wasn’t part of it. No. I remained a bystander who knew it was wrong to watch but couldn’t seem to turn away.

  They shifted behind me, and I closed my eyes. After all, it wasn’t real. Lila guided me from my side to my back, greeting me with a glassy-eyed gaze when my eyelids fluttered open. She slid the front of my nightshirt up my body, exposing my breasts. It made every tiny hair on my body stand erect. Her long blond hair tickled my skin as she knelt beside me, lowering her head to my chest. Graham remained on his side with his head propped up on his right arm while his left hand slid into the front of his expensive lounge pants.

  Oh god …

  Lila drew my nipple into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue. It wasn’t bad. I’m not sure it was good either. Just different. Had it been anyone else but Lila, I would have been out of there, halfway back to Aspen already. My best friend’s fascination with my breasts kept me idle, studying her, not really giving a shit about Graham getting off from the show.

  Was it her altered state? Did she think of me in a sexual way in her sober state? Did it make her a lesbian or bisexual? Did it make me one for letting it happen?

  In a sudden change of events, she teased my nipple with her tongue ring and … well … it sort of turned me on, but I had no impulse to reciprocate. No desire to touch, see, or taste any part of her body.

  “This is insane,” she slurred her words as her mouth brushed across my chest to my other breast. “Why is this so hot?” she murmured just before laving my breast with her warm, wet tongue.

  I glanced over at Graham again. His jaw was slack, hand going to town, pumping his cock.

  It wasn’t hot. It was weird and wrong.

  Wrong.

  Wrong.

  So. Very. Wrong.

  Lila would know it in the morning.

  At least that’s what the my-parents-raised-me-right part of my brain said while pleading its case. The rest of my body, specifically my breasts, had a different case to plead. I couldn’t take anything away from my friend; she knew what she was doing, and she did it well.

  “Slide your fingers inside her,” Graham’s drunken eyes blinked heavily as he ordered Lila to do something I … I just couldn’t.

  Nope.

  Ten more piercings and a dozen additional tattoos—sign me up. That was my kind of wild side and impulsivity.

  Lila’s mouth feathered up my neck as her hand slinked down my abs. Her lips brushed mine. I stiffened even more, holding my breath.

  Some lines weren’t meant to be crossed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Lila’s fingers inside of me would be really hard to mentally shake off as easily as her mouth on mine or her tongue teasing my nipples.

  Or was it too late?

  I wasn’t familiar with all the acts that two people (no matter their sexual preference) considered sex. For two women, was breast and nipple play considered sex?

  Kissing?

  Genital rubbing?

  Masturbation?

  Seriously … I had no clue because I never had any reason to study that topic and consider the possibilities. Until … I found myself on a bed in a Vancouver suite with Lila’s tongue doing things to my nipples—things that awakened possibilities. Would letting it go further make me feel more free, liberated?

  I decided a trip to Mardi Gras to show off my tatas for some beads might be a better choice to liberate myself without risking my closest friendship. I mean … what if Lila would have found me to be a better lover than Graham? What would that have meant for their impending marriage?

  And Ronin … what about him—all six and a half feet of my sexy new acquaintance?

  Just like that … I made my decision. I had to escape before my BFF gave me an orgasm … which she was on her way to doing.

  Really. Well done, Lila.

  I rolled out of bed like a five-alarm fire and shoved down my nightshirt, turning toward the bed to give my two insane friends a very serious speech on ethics and the importance of not risking our friendship for sexual pleasure.

  Too late.

  Graham had his tongue down Lila’s throat as they ripped off each other’s clothes.

  I chuckled, running my hands through my hair. “I’ll give you two a few minutes. I mean … it’s my bed. But whatever.”

  They ignored me, so I shuffled my feet to the door—the unneeded third wheel rolling into the ditch. After shutting the door, my back thumped against it, and I melted to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest.

  “Harder, Graham!”

  Biting my lips together, I cringed. How did I become their sex toy for the night? Their foreplay. And what w
ould be said in the morning?

  Over the next five or so minutes, I listened to my friends have sex—loud sex. For two full seconds—only two—I wondered if I’d made a mistake. I liked taking chances and rebelling in small ways. I liked giving the middle finger to rules when they didn’t suit me. Why did I pass up an opportunity to be spontaneous … a little taboo with my friends?

  Ronin Alexander. That’s why.

  On the miraculous chance that I would see him again and we would get married and have beautiful babies, I didn’t want a threesome tainting the memories of the day we met. I realized the moment that thought tiptoed through my mind, I was completely dismissing all other reasons like … friendship and the fact that Lila and Graham were engaged.

  As the door behind me opened, I sprang to my feet.

  Graham buttoned his top, wearing a truly awful grin like the wolf that just ate every sheep in the pasture. “She’s all yours again.” He winked, brushing past me to the door of his suite.

  My evil gaze followed him. If only I could have burned him to the ground with it, I would have. He orchestrated all of that. Manipulated her. Manipulated me through her. At first, I thought he would be a terrible governor, but his sexual indiscretions seemed in line with the indulgent, corrupt life of a politician.

  I eased the door shut behind me and tiptoed toward the bed, hoping to find Lila passed out so I wouldn’t have to deal with things until morning.

  No such luck.

  She sat up in the middle of the bed and pulled her pajama top on. Then she shimmied back into her panties and bottoms.

  “Are you mad?” she mumbled with her back to me, hair a fucked-up mess. Graham did a number on her. Her voice held a lot more sobriety to it than it had ten minutes earlier.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” I slid into bed, pulled the covers up to my neck, and stared at the ceiling.

  “Then why did you let it happen?” she whispered.

  Good question.

  “I don’t know. It felt forbidden.”

  She turned her head toward me, but I kept looking at the ceiling. “Are you tempted by the forbidden?”

  “Isn’t everyone to some degree?”

  “I’m not a lesbian.”

  I laughed. “Good to know.”

  “It was more for Graham. He’s been pressuring me for quite some time to try something new.”

  “Then get a different hairstyle, but don’t invite other people into your bed. That’s asking for trouble.”

  “Then why didn’t you stop it sooner?”

  Sitting up, I angled my body toward Lila, barely able to see her in the dark. I flipped on the light by the bed. We flinched at the brightness. “Listen, had it been anyone else, that could have gone terribly wrong for you, Lila. Seriously, how far were you willing to go? Were you going to let him put his mouth on my breasts? Were you going to let him have sex with me? Is that what does it for you? The man you love taking pleasure in another woman? It’s all fun and games under the heavy influence of alcohol and whatever sleep shit you’re taking.” I internally cringed, remembering that she didn’t take anything that night. We were all quite sober. “But…” I continued “…things get pretty real when a threesome turns into you watching Graham fuck another woman. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  My anger pointed at myself as much as her. But I wasn’t engaged. I didn’t have as much to lose as Lila did. As I started to lecture her, more concern and regret built in my conscience. We were stupid. Really stupid.

  Tears filled her eyes as she looked away and blotted the corners before a single one could creep out. “It’s funny …” She shook her head on a painful laugh. “I wanted nothing to do with him, but then you begged me to give him a chance. And the big jerk made me fall so hard for him that I hate to think how it would break me if he decided he didn’t want me.”

  I reached for her hand, sandwiching it between mine. “Gauge your love for him by his love for you.”

  “That sounds selfish. Like I love myself more.”

  A smile stole my mouth, and I think she got my point before I said it, but I said it anyway. “Love yourself more.”

  After a few silent moments, Lila returned a sad smile. “Will you ever forgive me for molesting you?”

  Barking out a laugh, I shut off the lights. We scooted under the covers, facing each other. “Your tongue ring though …” I sighed.

  “You liked it?”

  I grinned, but she couldn’t see me. “Goodnight, Lila.”

  I fell asleep next to my best friend like we’d done a million times over our twenty-nine-year friendship. If I was honest, the idea of something going wrong between Lila and Graham scared me to death. I would choose her; everyone knew that. However, Graham helped save my dad. He saved my family. Losing him would have felt like its own death.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Two weeks later …

  I left my worries over Graham and Lila in Canada—even the weird threesome thing. Really, Lila was a grown woman. If he became the next governor and she willingly quit her job to support him, that was her choice. If she chose to invite other people into their bed, again … her choice. I just knew it would never be me again.

  Besides, they didn’t invite me into their bed; they ganged up on me in my own bed.

  It didn’t change my feelings for Lila. She was and would always be my best friend, not my twin. We chose different career paths. We had different tastes in culture, sports, future aspirations … and sexual adventurousness.

  Our friendship spanned too many years of personal struggles and laughter to let our differences be anything more than the beauty of our own individuality.

  In the back room (my lab) of my bath shop, I unpacked a shipment of herbs while Sophie watched the desk. September marked the beginning of holiday preparation with limited edition scents and gift boxes. And decorations. Yes … it was time to start marketing for Christmas. I loved Christmas in Aspen. It was my favorite time of the year.

  The bell on the door chimed, signaling customers that we needed. Sophie chirped her bubbly spiel about the shop. I couldn’t make out her words, but I’d heard them before. People loved her gleeful routine and the way so much joy flowed from the pint-sized redhead.

  “Psst! My future husband is here to see you. Probably wants to get your blessing. Should I send him back so you can do that?”

  I glanced over my shoulder, lifting my eyebrows.

  Sophie fanned herself while mouthing, “Oh my god!” Her eyes rolled back in her head for a brief second.

  A seizure?

  “I’m not sure how to respond. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend since the Ben incident.” I used the code words for he cheated on her. We didn’t talk about it. And we never said the C word.

  “I’ll just send him back. Then you can give me all the details later.”

  “Um … o—kay.” It was rare for Sophie to come to work high, but that day she might have been on something.

  “Hey!” Ronin peeked his head around the corner.

  My body shot to attention, swiping my hands along my head to tame my messy hair. It was my lab day which meant recycled hair, threadbare yoga pants, and an oversized long-sleeved T-shirt.

  No makeup.

  No sexy dress.

  Ronin witnessed the opposite of the woman he had dinner with in Vancouver.

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Alexander.”

  The grin on his face swelled with my greeting.

  I’d been home a week. A week of jumping every time the door chimed, constantly straining my neck to look out front, hoping for my handsome ski patroller. That was the first day I didn’t jump when the bell chimed because I’d given up on him, resigned that my gut feeling I would never see him again was in fact true.

  It felt fantastic to be wrong, even if I looked rather hellish at the moment.

  “I tried to play it cool and not show up on the doorstep to your shop the same day you arrived home from Vancouver.” He slid his hands into the front pockets of h
is black jeans—silver jacket, black scarf, and a white beanie atop his head of thick jet-black hair.

  Wait … what?

  He was what? Worried about looking too anxious? Too desperate?

  Ronin inspected the shelves filled with oils and herbs. “However, I start my new job soon, so I figured my time to play it cool is limited. Once I start working long hours, I might be all cooled out. So I need to impress the hell out of you while I can.”

  The smile on my face took on a life of its own.

  He continued, “I thought maybe we’d check out all of the great restaurants in town over the next few weeks. Shut down a few bars. Compare hot cocoa with marshmallows versus hot cocoa with whipped cream sipped around a fire. I’m sure you have some favorite trails we should hike before the first snow. And of course, I’ll need to learn how to make soap. Then …”

  Finally … finally he looked at me after a full visual inventory of my lab while rattling off enough stuff to make my heart stop beating.

  Ronin spent one day with me, and just like that … he knew from that one day that he wanted more days. More me.

  “Then what?” I whispered as he stepped in front of me, looking as tall and delectable as I remembered.

  “Then we can just be past that awkward phase where people feel the need to impress each other.”

  I laughed, holding out my arms, my baggy sleeves hanging low, a smattering of oil stains on my white tee. “Have you really seen anyone less impressive than me at the moment?”

  Ronin grinned. It was so big and delightful. “It’s good to see you, Evelyn,” he whispered. It sounded so seductive, so refreshing, so reassuring that the feelings weren’t one sided.

  I shook my head, but it didn’t shake the grin from my face. “It’s good to be seen.” I lifted my shoulders into my take-it-or-leave-it-but-this-is-me shrug. “Even like this.”

  “You’re like the sun, Evelyn. No matter how you try to cover it up or hide it, it’s always shining.” He rocked back and forth on his heels, shoulders hugging his ears with his hands still tucked into his pockets.

  I would marry this boy. I just knew it.

  Boy.

  Yes, Ronin had this boyish charm to him. When I fell in love with him—because I was certain it would only be a matter of time—I would always remember how falling in love at any age felt like taking your first steps. Sometimes it happened slowly, and other times it took off. And all you could do was go with the momentum and hope you didn’t fall too hard.