Just Once More.... Mira Lyn Kelly
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of the bed in a second flat. Reaching for the extension at his nightstand with one hand, he rubbed at his morning stubble with the other.
“A little early, isn’t it, Maeve?”
“You’re alone?”
He blew his breath out with a good deal of his patience. “It’s only been …” squinting at the clock, he noted it was just after five “… a few hours since I left her apartment. Do you really think I’d stop and pick up someone else on the way back?”
The answering silence said she wouldn’t put it past him.
“Geez, yes, I’m alone. And, for what it’s worth, I had no idea who she was.”
A little hiss sounded through the line. “Yeah, but everyone else did. What were you even doing at Sam’s party?”
“It was a party for his brother. You know Jesse? My oldest friend? Artist? Touring for the past two years? Any of this ringing a bell? So, Nikki’s close with Sam?”
“We’re out with him, like, once a week at least. He’s part of the core crowd.”
Garrett’s brows dropped down, the fog of sleep clearing faster now. “Wait. He hangs out with that old crowd from my class—”
“Give me a break, Garrett. I see Sam and the guys all the time. These days they’re more my friends than yours.”
What the—?
“I’m not surprised you don’t know. Aside from the fact you’ve been AWOL for the last few years, doing your twenty-two-hours-a-day summa-cum-look-at-Superman-earning-top-honors-while-running-his-company thing, you’ve got a reputation as kind of a psycho when it comes to your sisters. I wasn’t about to tell you, and it doesn’t surprise me no one else had the guts to do it either.”
This time the deafening silence was booming out of his corner as he let that little gem sink in.
Maeve.
Hanging out with his friends.
A pack of low-life scum who thought the nickname Panty Whisperer bad-ass enough to ooh and aah at its inception, giving high-fives and back-slaps as though going home with whomever it had been back then hadn’t simply been some callow escape, but a conquest worth celebration.
They’d been hanging out with his little sister.
And lying to him about it.
“Oh, wait. Before you flip. I’m not talking about Joey and those guys. Mostly Sam. Once in a while Rafe and Mitch show up. And, to be clear, I don’t date any of them. Ever.”
A relieved breath hissed through his teeth and a few seconds later his jaw unlocked too.
“Helloo? Earth to Panty Whisperer, betrayer of sisters’ trust everywhere.”
Wow. Little Maeve with the one-two punch. The girl knew how to drop a bomb and then turn the tables in a heartbeat. God help the guy who landed her.
“Maeve, just give me a minute to catch up. To wake up, okay?”
He could hear her tongue clucking through the line. Could practically see that impatient posture and pouty scowl. The same one she’d been pulling since she was six years old. Of course back then it wouldn’t have been directed at him. Back then he’d been her hero. The one to intervene on her behalf with older sisters who didn’t want clumsy hands breaking their stuff.
“Ready yet?”
“Yeah, why not? Go ahead and give it to me.” He pushed up from the bed, figuring there wouldn’t be any getting back to it after this, and headed in search of sustenance of the coffee-and-cookies variety.
“I can’t believe you told Nikki you knew how long it had been since she had sex. I can’t believe, after you figured out who she was, you would be so thoughtless as to violate my trust like that. And you didn’t just stop at …
Pushing the start button on the coffeepot, he grunted his acknowledgment of wrongdoing, knowing it would be a move just short of suicide to interrupt the rant in progress for the petty satisfaction of pointing out that she’d broken Nichole’s trust first.
Garrett was halfway through his first cup of coffee when the quiet from the other end of the line hit a point where it was clear this wasn’t just Maeve taking a breath, but she was waiting for a response.
Setting the mug aside, Garrett rubbed a palm over the smooth finish of his kitchen table. “So, aside from being pissed you’d told me about her dating history, did she sound okay?”
There was another silence from across the miles, though this one Garrett wasn’t quite sure how to read.
Then, “She was fine. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“You know. Because she’s a commitment girl.” He still didn’t know how they’d gotten their lines crossed so badly. In all these years he’d never made such a mess—
“Oh, that. Yeah. Get over yourself, Garrett. She wasn’t looking for serious with you. Which I’m pretty sure she actually told you already.”
Yeah, she had. But maybe he just hadn’t liked the sound of it. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to believe it was true because for some reason he didn’t like the idea of it in the context of her … with him.
“Okay, I can practically hear you worrying over there. But you’re going to have to take my word for it. Nikki is fine. This was exactly what she needed. Except the part about it being you and all.”
Thank you, Maeve.
“She wanted to prove to herself she could have a little fun without it having to turn into some white-dress event. And she did. So no biggie.” Maeve let out a giggle in the background. “Though next time I’m guessing she’ll get the guy’s name first.”
Next time.
Garrett closed his eyes against the words. Figured out it only facilitated the mental peep show—Nichole leaning back on her bed with those big brown eyes peering up at … not him. Hell.
Walking over to the counter, he refilled his mug and threw half of it back at once. Time to wake up and get on with the new day.
“Yeah. Hopefully.”
NICHOLE SANK THE six and watched the cue ball come to rest neatly behind the four. Nice.
Across the felt landscape Maeve tapped her foot impatiently against the leg of her stool, watching as Nichole adjusted her stance and lined up her shot.
“Wow, your form’s really improved.”
Nichole paused, glanced up. “Huh?”
“No, really.” All nonchalance, Maeve waved toward the pool cue, the twitch at the corner of her mouth a warning of what was to come.
Hard to believe it had only been a week with the amount of ribbing she’d taken. But there it was. A week since she’d had the hot press of Garrett’s mouth against hers, the weight of his body—
“You’ve got a firm grasp on that butt … while the shaft just glides through your fingers. I don’t know … it’s almost like you’ve had some practice with the wood lately.”
Mouth hanging open, Nichole fought the slow burn spreading across her cheeks and neck … and lost. “Seriously?”
Maeve smirked. “Ohh, shoot! Your alignment just went to hell.”
“You wish.”
Leaning over the table she straightened out the shot, drew back, focused—
“Gentle