More Than Friends (Kingsley #4) (17 page)

Renee still had no clue that Michael was coming as he made the turn onto her street. Chelsea's car wasn't in the driveway either; she must be out again with her boyfriend, Nick. Michael smiled as he approached the driveway, listening to Renee tell him about the movie she was watchin
g
– waiting for the moment when sh
e’
d realize she was
n’
t alone anymore.

“– so then he said, 'You really are a very sexy woman.' And I'm not even kidding Michael, she said, 'No really. Swear to God, I'm not.' Oh my God, I love her! Every character she's ever played has been a stroke of ge
n
– hold on, Michael, I think someone just pulled into my driveway."

"Maybe it's your sister. Think she forgot something?" Covering the microphone, Michael slipped out of his truck and quietly pushed the door closed.

"No, the headlights were wrong on the wall, hers aren't as bright. Wait, hang on. It's a truck. It almost looks like ..." her voice trailed away as Michael stepped up to the door of the house and pressed the doorbell. "Wait, let me grab my bat. Now they're knocking."

Grinning, Michael stood beside the door. "Just open the door," he laughed. "I think it's the ice cream man."

Renee made a small quiet sound of surprise, and the door opened. "What are you doing here?" She stood in the doorway in a pair of faded pink cotton capris pants covered in bright orange smiley faces, topped with an equally worn and faded orange tank top. Her hair was spilling messily around her shoulders, she had a fine dusting of popcorn salt down the front of her shirt, and her mouth had fallen open in shock as she stared at him. She was gorgeous.

Michael shrugged. "I really wanted some popcorn."

"Well, it's kinda late," she answered, propping her hands on her hips.

Michael's heart plummeted. He stood still, struggling to maintain a neutral expression, but he could feel the weight of his mistake pressing heavily on his shoulders. She hadn't been hinting then; he'd misread everything. He swallowed against a lump of nerves in his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, unable to meet her eyes.
Now what?
"Look Renee, I
–
"

"Don't be weird," she broke in, laughing. "Just come in, okay? We'll talk."

Heart pounding, Michael followed Renee into the house. "That wasn't very nice."

She laughed again, but sobered as she turned to face him and took his hands in her own. "I know. I'm sorry. But it's only fair, you know.
You
scared
me
first."

"Alright, fair enough," he conceded, glancing around the room. They stood together in the small foyer, a photo of Renee with Chelsea, Cass, and their mother hanging on the wall above them. A small shoe storage dresser served as an entryway table, covered with a mess of small but cheerful trinkets of female domestication. Beside the small but pretty piece of furniture was a small box, bearing a large photo of the sculpture Renee had purchased as a wedding gift for Harmony and Xande
r
– a gift meant to be given jointly, from he and Renee. But would it now be given from the two of them ... as a couple
?“
So. You said you'd been thinking of me," he said quietly.

Renee sighed. "Michael, how could I not? You're handsome, you're strong, you're funny ... you're responsible. You're reliable. You're honest."

"Mmhmm. But?"

She looked up from their joined hands in surprise. "But? What but?"

"There's always supposed to be a but, isn't there?" Michael shrugged. "That's how conversations like this go. Boy meets girl. They have a few things in common, maybe they become pals. Maybe one of them misreads some inadvertent signal and gets a little too chummy. Usually the guy," he pressed on, encouraged by the light of amusement in Renee's eyes as she watched him speak. "And then they have
the talk
."

"That sounds terrifying."

Michael's breath froze in his throat as she released one of his hands and laced her fingers experimentally through the fingers of his other hand. They had been close enough to touch many times before, and much more closely than this; he closed his eyes briefly, struggling to ignore a sudden tightness in his jeans as his body responded to the whisper of her touch. "It is terrifying," he said. "Have you never had
the talk
?"

Renee frowned, but her cheeks had flushed with amusement. She looked up from their joined hands and met his eyes as she led him through the living room and down the hallway. "I don't think so. How does it go?"

Quirking an eyebrow at her in question, Michael went on. "You know, it's supposed to have stuff like, 'We're better off as friends,' and 'I just don't really see you like that.'"

"I see. So something like, 'It's not you, it's me' would be good."

They had passed the dining room and the kitchen, the bathroom and the entry to Chelsea's bedroom. His heart was pounding so hard, he was surprised she couldn't hear it, and as he walked, still led by the gentle tug of her hand, a bead of sweat slipped down the groove between his shoulder blades. He swallowed. "Yep. That's generally how it goes."

"So I guess since
you're
the one who kissed
me
, you're the one who got too chummy then, right?"

"I guess so," he answered. He could hear his blood rushing behind his ear drums, and his stomach was in knots. He wanted to run, to back away and go back to the way it was before, before he could ruin everything. Before Renee could change her mind. But at the same time, he was standing with her on the threshold of her bedroom, and all he wanted in the world was for her to pull him in. He could see the glow of the TV on the walls, could smell the bowl of popcorn sitting, half-empty, in the center of a quilted blue bedspread embroidered with sunny yellow swirls. And he wanted to spill that popcorn everywhere in the haste of passion, wanted to see her hair spill over the pillows, to see her naked skin in the glow of the television. He wanted to strip those ridiculous smiley pajamas from her body and drop them on the floor, then fall to his knees and devour her.

"You're not listening to me," she said, grinning up at him
.“
Wher
e’
d you go just now?"

"What?" Michael asked stupidly, shaking his head to clear away the imaginary high of hearing her whisper his name in the dark. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said," she repeated, laughing, "that if you're the chummy one, I guess
I’
m supposed to give the speech, right?"

His mouth was dry, his skin was burning where she held his hand, his other hand was clenched so hard his fingers ached, and he thought his dick had probably never been harder
.“
Right. Yep, that's how it's done in these situations."

"Is that what you want me to do, Michael? Give you the speech you came here for?"

Desperately afraid that that was exactly what she was going to do, and desperately hoping she wouldn't, he swallowed his fear and tried to lighten the mood. "I didn't come here for a speech, Renee
,
” he said, hoping he didn't sound as strangled as he felt. "I came here for popcorn."

"Good," she answered, pulling him into the room. "I wasn't gonna give you the speech anyway."

Her room smelled of summertime and coconuts; she had a giant print of Van Gog
h’s‘
Starry Nigh
t
’ above her bed, and the top of every furniture surface was covered in white and yellow candles. Michael gestured to the collection of scented candle jars
.“
Cas
s’
s doing
?
”

Renee nodded, smiling as she pulled him further into the room
.“
Yep; coconuts and sugar cookies. She keeps giving me more of the
m
… said she does
n’
t want me to run out
.
” Her fingers gripped his wrists and she backed slowly into the room, her eyes still on his face, each step backward pulling Michael closer to taking a step he would
n’
t be able to go back from.

“
Does
n’
t look like ther
e’
s any risk of that happening any time soon
.
” His breath was catching in his chest, in his throat. His heart wouldn't stop trying to beat its way through his ribs. He'd never been so nervous in his life, so afraid of messing something up. But he'd never been so arousedbefore, eithe
r
– not even with Nicolette.

She put the tip of her tongue out to wet her lips, watching his face. Her eyes flicked lower to settle on his mouthbefore coming back to meet his questioning eyes, and she smiled nervously. "No, no risk of that," she said softly. "Especially since I don't burn them." She watched as he arched his brows in silent question, shrugging as she answered
.“
It jus
t
– candles are meant to be romantic. Ca
n’
t have romance by yourself, I guess. Or I mean, by
my
self
.
”

“
You are
n’
t by yourself
,
” Michael murmured, bringing his hands up to cup her face. He saw her throat move as she swallowed, and her hands dropped from his wrists to settle lightly at his waist. Her fingertips fluttered above his jeans, and she fisted her hands in the fabric of his t-shirt as he rested his forehead against hers
.“
Light them
.
”

“
I could
,
” she whispered.
“
Think I ought to
?
”

“
Maybe later
.
” He tipped his face and touched her lips with his, softly, tentatively. Her breath was a whisper against his mouth, and then he was lost in the taste of her. Renee was soft in his arms, pliable even as he felt the strength and life coursing through her. Her fists pressed into his sides, tugging on his shirt, but then he felt the scorching heat of her palms as she released the fabric and ran her hands up under it. Kissing her was a whirl of sensation unlike any Michael had ever experienced; he was surrounded by the summer scent of her perfume, his arms filled with the soft curves and firm definition of her body, the buttery taste of popcorn still salty sweet on her lips.

She touched the tip of her tongue to his upper lip, and he smiled against her mouth, answering her challenge with a daring swirl of his own tongue that followed the curve of her bottom lip. She scraped her nails down his back, gasping as he crushed her suddenly closer against his body. Michael was sure she could feel him, hard against the flatness of her stomach; she pressed closer, grinding softly, and his erection jerked between them.

“
I do
n’
t know what w
e’
re doing
,
” he whispered, dropping his mouth down over the curve of her jaw and kissing the sensitive place behind her ear. He had known it was there for years; she had confessed once that on a date, a boy had kissed her there and the tickle of his breath had made her laugh. The boy, offended, had immediately jerked awa
y
– and he had
n’
t asked her out anymore. Michael did
n’
t release her, though; instead, he tested her, purposely playing up and down the curve of her shoulder and the strong column of her throat to see if he could get the same girlish reaction. It worke
d
– she sucked in a sharp breath as he nuzzled her throat, and moaned as the scrape of his evening stubble roughened her skin. But then, as he swept the tip of his nose up the length of her throat and caught the soft lobe of her ear between his teeth, she tensed in his arms, laughing. He pressed a kiss against the artery pulsing just below the surfaceand laughed with her
.“
I wondered if that would work
,
” he said.

Guiding his face back to hers, Renee bumped the tip of her nose against his
.“
I do
n’
t know what this is, either
,
” she said
.“
And now I wonder if maybe I should
n’
t have told you about that spot
.
”

Laughing again, he tightened his arms around her, enjoying the feel of her body against his
.“
Yo
u’
ve told me about a lot of spots
,
” he answered
.“
W
e’
ve had a lot of conversations, Renee
.
” It was
n’
t the first time the
y’
d been pressed together, but dancing as friends at some function or family event was
n’
t nearly the same as the way he held her now, alone in her house with the lights low and the tension high. Her breasts were flattened against his chest, small but firm, her nipples pressing against him through their clothes. Michael could feel the heat pulsing from her, could scent her arousal in the air
.“
Do you want me to stop this?I
t’
s not too late for me to just go
.
”

She would
n’
t look at him, but she shook her head against his chest
.“
No
,
” she whispered
.“
No, I do
n’
t want you to stop. Bu
t
–“ She broke off and looked up finally, sliding her hands down his chest to settle between them, pressed flat against his stomach
.“
Michae
l…
We have a really good friendship, right
?
”

“
We always have
,
” he said.

“
Right. S
o
…” She waited while Michael pressed the curtain of her hair away from her face, watching his eyes breathlessly as he traced the curve of her lips with the tip of one thumb. Finally, she caught his thumb in her teeth, biting gently, and Michael watched her lips close around the tip.

She sucked softly, and Michael had to fight the urge to push her down in her bed right then, had to stop himself from going too far too soon. But after holding her so closely, having tasted her, swept his tongue between her lips to dance with hers, cupped his palms over the firm curves of her delectable little ass, all he wanted was to bury himself in her body, to feel her tighten around him, to feel her thighs wrapped around his waist. It had to be her choice though; Michael valued Rene
e’
s role in his life, and he respected her as afriend. It did
n’
t matter how much he wanted her, he had to know she wanted him, too
.“
So? What are you asking me, Renee
?
”

”
What i
f
… Michael, what if this ruins what we have? And what if we ca
n’
t get it back? What if we los
e
… what we have? And what is this becoming, anyway
?
”

“
What if it does
n’
t? And what if we do
n’
t need to label it to know what it is
?
” he asked her. Releasing her, hetook her hand and led her to the dresser, where a lighter rested between two candle jars. Arching an eyebrow, he glanced down at her
.“
You never burn them, huh
?
”

“
I do
n’
t
,
” she retorted, laughing
.“
The lighter came with the second candle, after I told Cass that I had
n’
t burned the first candle because I did
n’
t have a lighter
.
” Reaching out, she took the lighter in one hand and one of the candles in the other, meeting his eyes in the mirror above the dresser before she lowered them again to light the candle. He watched her steel herself to speak, taking a deep breath as she set the first candle back among its fellows and lit another
.“
This is important to me. Our friendship, I mean. I do
n’
t want to lose this
.
”

Michael stepped behind her, marveling at how he had never noticed the way the top of her head tucked perfectly beneath his chin. He settled his hands on her hips, squeezing softly as he pulled her back against him, and he watched her flickering reflection in the mirror as she lit a third candle
.“
I
t’
s important to me, too
,
” he said. It was only then that he noticed the tension that had slowly filled her expression, tension that ran down through her body, vibrating through her as she stiffened in his arms
.“
Wha
t’
s wrong
?
”

“
We can break the tension with jokes if you want to
,
” she said
,“
but what did you mean just now? What was it you said? That we do
n’
t need to label it
?
”

“
We do
n’
t
,
” he said.

Fear licked through his gut as she blew out the candle sh
e’
d just lit and placed it back on the dresser
.“
We do
n’
t call babies
,‘
Hey
,
’ Michael. We name them. We label them. We label illnesses, we label each other
.
” She sighed, and Michael felt a twinge of panic as her face went blank in their reflection
.“
We label the important things; i
t’
s how we know which things are important
.
” She met his eyes briefly in the mirror, still tucked so perfectly against him, and then she looked away, moved away to lift and blow out the second candle
.“
You know,
I’
m kind of tired. Maybe you should just go after all, and we can talk about this another time
.
”

There was no way he was leaving it like this, with their relationship as blackened as the two now-burned candle wicks sticking out of the unmelted candles on the dresser. One candle still burned, and as afraid as they both were of losing their friendship because of this sudden attraction, there was no way he would allow her to shut down like thi
s
– he knew that if he did, they would never be the same. Michael plucked the lighter from her hands and dropped it beside the candle still burning in the low light of the TV screen. Renee turned easily in his arms when he spun her, but she used the movement to step further away and put some space between them; he caught her hands and held them lightly in an effort to keep her near him
.“
No
,
” he said
.“
Renee, do
n’
t do this. Come on, talk to me
.
” Renee shook her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she lowered her face. She shrugged, and Michael pulled her closer. She stepped forward willingly, but held her tension as he settled his chin on top of her head
.“
Please, Renee. I do
n’
t know what you think, but you have to know tha
t’
s not what I meant
.
”