This One Moment (12 page)

F
IVE YEARS AGO

I paced back and forth on the wet sidewalk as Hailey did her best to soothe my sister on the phone over the sound of the storm. Single-story houses and tall trees stood on either side of the street, but I might as well be in the middle of nowhere as far as I was concerned.

I stopped my pacing long enough to glare at the flat tire. Too bad it wasn't my father; if it had been, I could've beaten his fucking ass.

I needed to use the phone, but I didn't want to take away the only lifeline Sarah had to knowing that help was coming. Once I hung up on her, she'd be alone.

But I didn't have a choice.

I indicated for Hailey to give me the phone. “Hey, squirt. Everything's going to be okay, but I need to hang up and call for help.” I didn't want to tell her the truth, that I had a flat and wouldn't be there for a while yet. “I'll call you right back. Is that okay?”

“You promise?” my sister asked, her voice quiet against the pummeling hail. My heart hurt hearing her like this. I was her big brother and I was doing a shitty job of protecting her.

“I promise.”

“Okay.” The word came out as a defeated whisper.

As much as it killed me doing so, I ended the call and dialed 911.

“Nine-one-one. State your emergency,” a woman said on the other end. Several cars drove past, slowing down long enough for the drivers to check Hailey out.

I glared at them as I explained Sarah's situation to the woman. I kept the information as brief as possible, avoiding anything that would give away my family's situation. I told her something must have happened to my father. He should've been there by now. Who knew if I was making things worse for all of us, especially Mom. But I couldn't risk my sister's life because I was worried about that. Sarah came first.

“I'm sending someone to the address,” the woman said. “Please stay on the line.”

I shook my head even though she couldn't see me. “I can't. My sister's alone. I need to call her back to make sure she's okay. This is the only phone I have.”

“All right.”

I hung up and dialed Sarah's number. She answered on the first ring. “You okay, squirt?”

“Are you coming?” she asked, sobbing. Lightning lit up the sky, followed a second later by the loud rumble of thunder. Sarah shrieked, and I pictured her huddled against the wall, her knees to her chest as she made herself as small as possible.

“Sarah, it's going to be okay. You have to believe me. I'll be there as soon as I can. But the police will be there before me. I called them.”

“I don't wanna go to jail,” she said, her voice small.

“I swear you won't go to jail. But I have a flat tire and it will take me a while to get there. The police will keep you safe until then. But while you wait, you can talk to Hailey. That way I can change the tire and we'll be there as quickly as possible. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

I passed Hailey the phone. She took it from me, body shaking. When we had rushed from her house, she'd only been wearing a flimsy tank top and shorts that revealed her long legs. And now every part of her was drenched and covered in goose bumps.

Needing to get Hailey warm and to get to Sarah as soon as possible, I worked quickly to change the tire. Hailey continued talking to my sister.

“The police are there,” Hailey told me as I removed the tire.

“Tell Sarah I want to talk to them.”

She relayed the message to my sister. I began tightening the lug nuts and was almost finished when Hailey handed me the phone. “Hello?” I said into it.

“Is this Nolan Kincaid?” a gruff voice asked.

“Yes. Is my sister okay?”

“She will be. I'm driving her home.”

My gut tightened, and I was positive I was going to puke. “No one's home right now.” Unless my father had returned, in which case there would be some serious shit flying soon. As far as the police knew, based on what I'd told the dispatcher, he could have been in an accident. That was the only explanation for why a normal, caring parent would be so late picking up his child from dance class.

“Where's her mother?”

“She had a meeting tonight with the hospital foundation.” Dad allowed Mom to help them because it looked good, status-wise and all. And people might grow suspicious if she was never allowed to leave the house. “She won't be home for another hour.”

“When do you expect to arrive home?”

“Not long. I'm almost finished changing my tire.”

“We'll wait for you, then.”

“Okay.” I didn't know if it would be all right. I couldn't think that far ahead. For now, the main thing was my sister was finally safe.

Nolan was watching the TV, but I had a feeling he wasn't seeing anything on the screen.

I shifted around and cupped his face with my hand. “Hey, what's going on?”

Nolan blinked twice. “Sorry. I'm just tired.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think I'll go to bed now.”

He reopened his eyes, and his thoughts waged a battle in his mind as he deliberated for a moment. “Would…would you stay with me tonight?”

An excited thrill trembled through my body even though it shouldn't have. It had been over five years since we had slept together, and that had been innocent. That was before we had kissed. And I meant really kissed, not just a friendly peck between close friends.

He smirked, and the slight hint of humor eased my fears about what he was going through. “Just keep your hands to yourself. I have my virtue to protect.”

I rolled my eyes. “Duly noted.”

Once I was ready for bed, I joined him. Even though this wasn't the first time we'd been in bed together, just like when we watched the movie, things between us felt different.

But unlike on the couch, an ocean of space now separated us. Yet an odd sense of intimacy crackled in the air between us. I felt torn as to what I should do, or if I should do anything at all.

Nolan turned around and switched off the bedside lamp. “Good night, Forget-Me-Not.”

“Good night, rock star.” I laughed at his mocked groan. I wasn't sleepy yet, so I listened to his breathing. Though he'd told me he was tired, it took forever before his breath became slow and even.

Light from the streetlights leaked into his room and rested gently on his face. I could see his old scar partially hidden behind his bangs, and bit back the temptation to trace my finger over it, somehow removing all his pain. A pain that had started way back, when his family first developed cracks in its once smooth surface.

Eventually my eyes drifted shut.

When I woke again, the room was still dark, other than the dim light from the streetlights. It didn't take much to discover what had woken me up: Nolan was moving restlessly on the bed.

He let out a soft whimper, and my heart broke for him once again. At some point he had kicked the bedding off him, leaving his abs exposed. In the soft light, I could just make out the thick scar cutting across his skin.

“Nolan,” I whispered. “You're having a nightmare.”

He didn't respond. He kept tossing and turning, the covers becoming tangled with his legs. He mumbled what sounded like his sister's name, then whimpered again.

I rested my hand on his chest. His heart pounded hard against my palm. “Hey, Nolan, it's okay. You're just having a bad dream.” I moved my hand to his far shoulder and gently shook him.

His eyes opened and for a moment he stared at me like he wasn't sure if I was real or not.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, still partially leaning over him.

“No,” he whispered. He no longer looked scared, like he had been during the nightmare. His eyes, dark from the dim room, focused on my eyes, then drifted to my lips.

My heart fluttered against my ribs, nudging me to follow through on what the rest of my body wanted me to do. Mistake or not, I leaned down, my chest pressing against Nolan's. Only difference was, I wasn't half naked like Nolan. I had my tank top on but my girls were braless.

As the warmth seeped from his body through the thin fabric of my top, my nipples tingled with want and egged me on, like perky cheerleaders. I lightly pressed my lips against his. Nolan didn't move. He didn't speak. He just watched me through hooded eyes. I gently nipped his lower lip between my teeth. He sucked in a soft breath.

I pulled away but didn't get far. His hand threaded through my hair and brought my mouth back to his. This time my kiss wasn't tentative. This time I completely lost myself in it. Tasting Nolan was pure heaven. His tongue stroking mine was pure heaven. I moaned and deepened the kiss.

His hand slipped away from my hair and skimmed down my back. It continued to drift to the side of my breast. He paused there, and I almost whimpered in frustration. I didn't know what we were to each other these days, and I didn't want to think about it right now. Even if it was just for one night, I wanted to make love to him. To let him know how I felt about him. To temporarily forget everything else.

While still kissing him, I shifted so his hand covered my breast. Hey, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. My new motto—one I needed printed on my tank top. In reply, he brushed his thumb against my nipple. Desire cannonballed its way from my breast to between my legs. My body jerked slightly and I moaned again.

“Oh, God, Nolan,” I murmured in his ear. “I want you so badly. I want you inside me so badly.” I traced the tip of my tongue against the shell of his ear.
Please want me like I want you.

Nolan paused, teasing my nipple. Fear shot through me that maybe I'd misread the situation and he didn't want me the same way I wanted him.

“Are you sure, Forget-Me-Not? If we do this, everything will change between us. Is that what you want?”

I bit my lip to keep from saying that things had already changed between us. They'd changed years ago. I knew what he meant, though. If we had sex, there'd be no going back to what we used to be, especially because there never could be a him and me. Our lives made that impossible. While we wouldn't exactly be a one-night stand, it would be close enough. Once he left for L.A., there would be no more us.

But I was willing to take the chance, no matter how much it hurt later on. And it would hurt. A lot.

“Yes,” I said. “It's what I want…if it's what you want.”

His hand on my breast moved to my face and his thumb caressed my cheek. The intensity in his eyes almost did me in, and I inhaled sharply. The sound was soft and slightly shaky.

“It's what I want too,” he said. “More than you can ever realize.”

I pulled away and yanked my tank top off over my head. In the dim light, I could just make out the slow rise and fall of his Adam's apple.

He reached up and cupped one of my breasts. My ribs were still bruised and slightly sore from the attack, but the discoloration had faded enough so it wasn't noticeable in this lighting. The last thing I wanted was for Nolan to change his mind about what I sensed we were going to do, worried he might hurt me.

Wonder lit his eyes, like he was gazing upon one of the Seven Wonders of the World. The expression made him even sexier—something I'd never thought possible until now. I bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud.

“Do you have condoms?” I didn't want to get all heated up only to realize he didn't have any in his room. I had some, but I needed to know if I should get them.

He cringed. “I wasn't planning to get lucky on the trip, so no.”

“I'll be right back.” I slid off the bed and practically ran to my room. I opened the drawer in my bedside table and removed the box of condoms. I dumped the contents on the bed. Three spilled out. I shook it again. Nothing else joined them. But really, did we need more than three? Unless we were going to be snowed in for the next two days and required steamy sex to stay warm, the answer was no.

But I wouldn't have complained if we were snowed in. The sacrifice, well worth it.

I grabbed the condoms and rushed back to Nolan's room. “I have three left.”

Nolan was standing next to the bed. He grabbed my hips and pulled me to him. My breasts squished against his chest and made them very happy. Then his mouth was on mine again.

One of his hands traveled to my lower back and his thumb stroked lazy circles against my skin. My hands knotted in his hair as our kisses heated up.

But it wasn't enough. I wanted more. More of him. More of us.

I let my fingers explore his body, enjoying every ridge of the muscles on his stomach. Enjoying the smooth skin above the waistband of his boxer briefs.

I ran my fingertip above the stretch of fabric. His muscles tightened, then relaxed under my touch.

Nolan's hand moved down to squeeze my butt. It stayed there for a second, then drifted to the waistband of my cotton shorts. I wasn't the only one excited at what we were doing. His length strained against the fabric of his underwear.

A thrill trembled through me. Touching a guy this way wasn't new to me. But this was Nolan. The last thing I'd ever expected was to one day touch him so intimately.

Other than in my dreams.

I ran my fingers along the length of him, but it wasn't enough. I slipped them under the waistband of his underwear and wrapped them around him. I came close to purring at the velvety softness of his tip, and traced my thumb under the head.

“Oh, God, Hailey,” Nolan breathed, and I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. “Unless you want this to end before we're started, I recommend you slow down.”

My thumb found the sensitive spot below the head and I gently massaged it. “Maybe I don't want to slow down.”

He let out a hiss of air, then his fingers tugged on the waistband of my shorts. He peeled them off ever so slowly. His touch, as it caressed my skin, tormented my supersensitive body. The way he looked at me sent a warm flush over me, and I was positive if he didn't stop doing that soon, I'd combust.

Which, right now, sounded like a heavenly way to go.

His finger brushed the outside of my right ankle, against the six forget-me-not flowers tattooed there. Each one tiny, delicate, realistic. An old belief claimed if you had a forget-me-not tattoo, your lover wouldn't forget you. When I'd gotten it, Nolan had just moved to L.A., and I'd foolishly wanted to ensure he never forgot me—even though he wasn't my lover. But when he never called back or texted me, I'd known the old wives' tale was nothing more than a foolish belief.

“What's this?” he asked.

“They're forget-me-nots.” I skipped on my reason for getting the tattoo. Let him believe I got it because I loved the flower (which was true) and not because of some misguided story.

He lifted my ankle, removed the shorts, and tossed them aside. He gently kissed the flowers. The sweet and simple action almost did me in.

Nolan lowered my foot back down.

With my shorts off, I was lying on the bed in nothing but my red cotton underwear. Okay, not the sexiest piece of underwear I owned. That honor went to the satin panties Kayla had given me for my birthday. Her motto: if I was going to get lucky, I'd better look sexy while it went down. To her, plain cotton underwear was a big no-no. It wasn't sexy enough. But the way Nolan looked at said underwear, he clearly didn't agree with her. Not even close.

I licked my lip, a slight nervousness at what we were about to do creeping in. I'd had sex plenty of times, enough to know what I was doing, yet for the first time since I'd lost my virginity, I was genuinely nervous. Things were different when you weren't about to screw some random guy you didn't care to see again after that night. It was different when you were about to have sex with someone you'd been secretly in love with for so long—and that scared me.

Nolan didn't give me a chance to dwell on it further. His mouth was on mine again. I pushed aside my fears at what was about to happen, and at what would happen once he returned to L.A. For one night I wanted to forget all that. I wanted to live in the moment. This moment.

His fingers, warm and callused, traced along the outside of my thigh. At my knee, he nudged my legs apart. His fingers resumed their journey up, up, up to torment me. Once he was midway, he paused and drew lazy circles on my skin.

My skin tingled in response, and the throbbing between my legs begged for those lazy circles to migrate closer. I might've even wiggled a little, encouraging Nolan's fingers to keep moving north.

And eventually they did.

While his mouth created music against mine—and holy mother of all things wonderful, did that man ever know how to kiss—his thumb brushed against my supercharged center. A jolt of electricity shot through my body, enough to power Northbridge if it ever experienced an outage. My lower body jerked in response.

Nolan wasn't the only one who knew how to please. I had my own tricks I was dying to try out on him. I tugged his boxer briefs past his hips, wrapped my fingers around his balls, and gave them a light squeeze. He groaned his satisfaction, and he might have muttered, “Holy shit.”

I grinned. “Liked that, huh?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled away from me and practically ripped his underwear off. It landed somewhere on the floor, presumably near mine.

His fingers returned to what they'd been doing earlier—making the ache between my legs a little happier, a little more demanding. And just when I thought it couldn't get better, he slipped a finger inside me and then another. He didn't move them. He just pressed against the lining. The promised combustion from earlier was nothing compared to now.

“Oh, God, Nolan,” I somehow managed to say.

He chuckled. “Liked that, huh?” he replied, echoing my earlier words.

“Yes. I like.”

He moved up the length of me, his fingers still inside me, and settled his mouth on one of my nipples. He sucked on it as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out. I guessed I shouldn't have been too shocked. He was both the singer and guitarist from Pushing Limits. That made him multitalented in my book.

I ran my fingernails roughly down his back and he groaned, further exciting the nipple in his mouth. I was so close to the edge, it wouldn't take much more to push me all the way.

“I need you. Inside me. Now,” I said, voice husky.

Grinning, he pulled away from my nipple and reached for a foil package on my nightstand. He carefully ripped it open and rolled it onto his thick length. Oddly enough, seeing him like this and remembering how we used to be as kids was enough to set my face on fire. He wasn't just another guy I had met and gone home with. This was the guy who had played 007 with me when we were ten and were chasing around the neighborhood on our bikes. The guy who had been there for me when I suffered through my first heartbreak at fourteen years old. The guy who had been there for me at every soccer game while we were growing up.