Chasing Rhodes (Rock Falls #1) (14 page)

“What has you smiling, sweetheart?” he asks.

“I was just remembering how much fun we used to have as kids out fishing on the lake,” I respond.

“Have you ever been fishing with anyone other than your family?” That seems like a bit of an odd question, but I answer it anyway.

“Jackson took me once.” I can see him clench his teeth at the mention of my ex. They are acquaintances in some capacity, but being that I only saw Greyson once during the entire span of my relationship with Jackson, I have concluded that they aren’t close enough for us to need to discuss it.

“Did you have fun when he took you?” He’s staring at me, heat building behind his eyes.

“We caught lots of fish if that’s what you’re asking,” I say, searching his face to try and figure out where he is going with this. “So yes, I guess I had fun.”

His nostrils flare at my words and a look of determination settles behind his pale-blue eyes.

We are sitting on the two small benches of the boat facing each other. The boat is so small that our knees are almost touching. He puts his rod down and reaches over the side of the boat, dipping his hands into the cool water, washing them.

“Scoot to the edge of your seat, Hannah,” he demands.

Maybe he needs to re-bait my rod,
I think to myself. I know how, but he seems to like doing it for me, so I let him. I do as he asks and reach my rod out towards him. He takes it, but instead of reeling in the line, he lays it down the inside of the boat with his rod.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, cocking one of my eyebrows.

“Scoot all the way to the edge, sweetheart, but do it slowly or you’ll rock the boat.”

Now that I’m this close to him, I can see his eyes darkening with lust. I scoot as close to the edge as I can, putting my hands behind me to steady myself.

He leans forward and slips a hand under the waist band of my yoga pants. I shudder. His hands are freezing cold from being in the water and it offsets the heat pooling between my thighs as he starts to tease my clit.

“Did he do this to you? Did he touch you here when you went out on that boat?” he growls. I shake my head and he gives me a cocky grin. “Good.”

He pushes two of his cold, thick fingers into my wet heat and starts pumping them slowly in and out. I’m not sure if he’s going so slowly to punish me or if it’s because he doesn’t want us to tip the boat over, but it’s driving me insane. He takes his other hand and uses it to unzip the hoodie I have on. He pinches my nipple through the thin material of my tank top. I’m not wearing a real bra, only the built-it one on my shirt. We haven’t seen any people in our entire time here, and I hate wearing bras. He takes advantage of my state and pulls the front down to expose my needy breasts. My nipples are hard from both the pleasure he is giving me and the cold air licking across my skin. He pinches and rolls one nipple in his hand and I cry out, the sound echoing across the water.

“I wish it were my cock in you, Hannah,” he says, fucking me harder with his fingers. “I wish I could lick the come that’s dripping out of your pussy right now.” He looks pained, but he knows that would tip over the boat if we moved any harder than this. He moves over to show the same attention to my other nipple as he uses his thumb to press down on my clit.

“Oh God. I’m going to come, Greyson!” I gasp, clenching down as I coat his fingers with my release. I’m still sitting there with my hands behind my back, my tits hanging out when he pulls his hand from my legs and sucks his fingers into his mouth.

“You taste so good,” he groans and helps me put myself back together again.

I’m still riding the waves of my orgasm as he starts the motor and begins taking us back towards the cabin. We reach the dock just as the rain starts to fall. I’m snapped out of my haze and immediately start trying to help him get the boat tied off. By the time we are going back for the last load from the boat, we are completely soaked. I bend down to grab the last of the life jackets when he stops me and turns me to face him.

I wrap my arms around his neck and smile. “That was the best fishing trip I’ve ever had,” I say and wink, considering we didn’t catch a single one.

He lifts me up off the dock, pressing our soaking wet bodies together and kisses me softly. “That was the point, sweetheart.” He chuckles.

We spend the rest of our last night naked, in front of the wood-burning fire, and I curse the thought of having to go back to real life tomorrow. I like our peaceful cabin on the lake, and I don’t want to leave. This Easter has been the best one yet. I hope there are many more to come like this one.

I
T IS ALREADY
the middle of June. Greyson and I have been together for a little over six months. Well, a little over six months as long as you don’t count our one-week hiatus. We’ve had a few more dinners with my parents in the weeks since our trip to the cabin, and he seems to be becoming more comfortable with the idea of allowing me into his heart. I know he loves me, but there are times when I can see his struggle, and in those times, I feel for him deeply.

It is the Saturday of Jami’s twenty-seventh birthday and we are all going to Buffalo Bill’s to celebrate. Lennon, Beth, and I have made a girls’ day out of it—going for a late lunch, getting our nails painted, and going over to the salon where Lennon works to get our hair done. The women she works with are incredibly nice and fit us into their schedules at the last minute.

I am happy to see Lennon taking some time to relax. She works all the time, and normally, she’d have come home from work to do everyone’s hair before going out. She spoils us that way and we know it. Today, she is sitting in the chair beside me, looking mellowed out as her colleague curls her long, brown hair down her back. Another girl, Peyton, who has come out with us on a few girls nights, is doing the same to my hair. I don’t really like to wear it up unless it is around the house or I am working out, so it is almost always in loose curls down my back.

Beth finished a while ago, given that her hair is much shorter, so she is now sitting on a black, leather couch, flipping through a magazine. “Who’s going tonight?” she asks. Beth asks this every time we go out. We never hang out with different people, so I’m not sure why she always feels the need to ask.

“The usual,” I say, meaning that Jami, Jay, the three of us, and Greyson would meet us there after he finishes with work.

“I wonder if Jami’s going to bring that girl he’s been seeing,” Beth wonders out loud to herself.

I cast a sideways glance towards Lennon and see her tense up.
Shit.
I completely forgot the possibility that Jami would bring his new girl thing or whatever to the bar. I don’t like to call them his girlfriends even though he does because they rarely ever last longer than a few weeks. This girl has been going on a month now, and that is a record.

“Probably not,” I answer and pray that I’m right. Otherwise, tonight is going to suck hardcore for my best friend.

We finish up at the salon, grab Greek takeout on the way home, and eat around the coffee table. I’m not even sure why we have a kitchen table. We never use it. We’re either eating at the breakfast bar or the coffee table. I think we might have used it once when my parents came over when we first bought the place, but that is the only occasion I can remember.

After dinner, we all sit on Beth’s bed while she roots through her closet, suggesting outfits. She has always been the fashionista of our little group. She chooses a violet-purple dress for herself and pairs it with metallic pumps. She chooses a black, ribbed, tube-top dress for Lennon that fits her like a glove, and after some serious begging, Beth manages to convince Lennon to wear it with the red high heels she got her for Christmas last year. My sister is persistent as all hell.

Lastly, for me, she chooses a deep-green, silk dress that ties behind my neck, leaving most of my back exposed, and flows loosely, stopping halfway down my thigh. It is a little more risqué than I’d usually go with, but even I’ll admit that I look hot. The green brilliantly complements to my hair, and when I add the nude pumps, my legs look like they go on for miles.
Greyson is going to love it.

We are meeting at the bar at nine, and it is only eight, so we sit around in the kitchen and have a beer. Normally, we’d be pre drinking with tequila, but as a party rule, you’re never supposed to be more drunk that the person having their birthday. And seeing as we don’t know how far gone the boys will be, we decide to ease into our evening. Greyson texted saying he would likely be there around ten, and I am excited for him to see me all dolled up. The cab arrives at a quarter to nine, and a little while later, we are walking into the bar.

Bill’s is already packed, as is expected on a Saturday night in June. It is warm out, and none of us need a coat, so we made our way straight inside. Jami mentioned that he’s reserved one of the larger booths in the back, and we found them quickly.
Uh oh. We better keep Lennon off the whiskey tonight,
I think to myself when I see the perky blonde tucked under Jami’s arm in the booth. Whiskey makes Lennon a little unpredictable, and with the jealousy that’s already burning in her eyes, I’d likely be pulling her off that poor girl if she gets into the Jack. I reach out and squeeze her arm. She doesn’t look at me, but I know she knows that I’m here for her if she needs me.

Jami makes his way out of the booth and all of us girls almost tackle him to the floor in a hug. I give him a kiss on the cheek and wish him a happy birthday before moving to greet the rest of the table. I say an awkward hello to Jami’s girlfriend—awkward because I don’t remember her name. Jay gives me a big hug, and I scoot into the booth beside him, the girls following suit. We order a round of tequila shots, and it’s a good thing that the girl whose name I can’t remember is so engrossed on pawing Jami because she doesn’t notice the invisible daggers flying into the back of her skull. I can see that Lennon’s jaw is clenched, and if looks could kill, that blondie would be dead. Our second round of shots shows up and my best friend knocks hers back before anyone’s even picked up their glass.
Oh boy. Tonight is not going to be pretty.

We’ve been here for a little over twenty minutes when I see a familiar face coming through the crowd.
Jackson.
I didn’t expect to see him because Jami had said that he was out of town and wouldn’t be able to make it. Thus I didn’t mention the possibility of him showing up to Greyson either. Jackson gives Jami one of those bromancy hugs that guy’s do these days and then pulls up a stool to sit down.

“Hey, guys,” he says, and his eyes look clearer than the last time I saw him here, when he was almost passing out in his drink.

I hoped for him that this meant he was doing better. Despite how everything went down, he deserved to be happy. Everyone takes their turn welcoming him, myself included, and we get back to whatever dirty joke Jay is busy telling. Some hockey joke about Jesus or something. I’m sure it was inappropriate. They always are with Jay.

At the rate the shots are flowing, we’ve all got a solid buzz going by the time ten rolls around. I check my phone to see if Greyson has called, but he hasn’t. Beth and Lennon slide out of the booth to use the restroom, and Jackson slides in beside me.

“Hey, you. How are things?” he asks quietly enough so only I can hear.

“I’m doing really well, actually.” I smile brightly. “How are you? You look better.”

“I feel better,” he says and motions to the beer bottle in front of me. “I quit drinking, so that’s been helping.” As he says it, I think back and realize that I haven’t seen him have a drink all night.

“Good for you, Jackson. I’m happy for you.” And I mean it.

“Jami says you’ve been seeing Greyson…”

It’s not really any of his business, but for the sake of putting him in his place, I answer anyway. “Yes, for about six months now. He should be here any minute,” I say, scanning the crowd for him.

I’m still looking for Greyson when I feel Jackson’s hand on my shoulder. It’s not in a sexual way. It’s meant to be a kind gesture. “Are you happy?” he questions, looking me right in the eye.

“The happiest.” It’s not meant to be a dig at Jackson in any way, but he asked and it’s the truth.

“Then I couldn’t be happier for you, Hannah. I know we never really got a chance to talk about everything that happened between us, but I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry I put you through that.” He leans closer so I can hear him as a louder song comes on. “You deserved better than that and I should have let you go a long time ago. I know things can’t be the same for us, but I miss my friend. I hope you can understand that.”

I return his smile and put my hand on top of his on my shoulder. “Thank you for that, Jackson. It wasn’t all bad, and I miss my friend too.” This feels like closure, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I know that I didn’t do anything wrong when I left him, but to hear him say it out loud for the first time ever is exactly what I needed to hear. This is it. With this small conversation, I can tell that we are at peace. I still need to work on the issues I developed during our relationship. It drained me emotionally, but as for the two of us, I feel like we can finally start to rebuild some semblance of a friendship again.