“God yeah,” I said, slipping my fingers around to her stomach. “You’d be all tied up and waiting for me.”
“Shit, Nate. If you don’t stop,” she mumbled. “I’ll never get up this wall.”
I took a deep and fortifying breath, ignoring the erection tenting the front of my pants. “Okay, head in the game.”
She bit back a laugh.
“My other head,” I said. “Up you go.”
I hoisted her thighs as she climbed to the first rung. She looked down at me and said,” Stay right there, please.”
“Of course.” She didn’t have to ask twice as I watched her lithe body scale to the second and then third step.
“Okay, that’s good enough,” she said, scrambling back down into my waiting embrace.
“Good job, Blue.” I reluctantly let go of her when her feet were firmly on the ground. She spun and gazed into my eyes, her breaths heavy and her skin glowing, either from our earlier interaction or the adrenaline rush.
Either way, it was hot as hell.
Chapter Twenty-three
Jessie
“You going to Quinn’s party?” Dex asked, resting his forearms on the front counter. He was cute, I’d give him that. Tall and lean with an impressive array of piercings and ink, he had the kind of body I liked.
Or at least I used to. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from travelling to Nate and his bulky frame. How his strong arms had lifted me up that wall with no effort. How his skin was smooth and warm and flawless.
“I’ll probably go,” I said, wondering if Nate would be there as well. We’d been more friendly and comfortable around each other again since I went rock climbing with him. God, what was I thinking? I was freaked out of my mind in that damn harness. But then Nate placed his hands on me and I immediately felt safe and protected, if not more than a little turned on.
But it was certainly nice admiring Nate’s body while he scaled that wall. And it allowed me to understand what he found so challenging and exhilarating about the sport. It offered another clue to all that was quintessentially him.
“Bowling sounds cool,” Dex said and then wrinkled his nose. “Wonder who else is gonna show up.”
I shrugged. Our group had definitely assembled an assortment of unlikely friendships.
“Want to head over to the bowling alley with me that night?”
Before I could say no to him for the five hundredth time this year, one of our female artists, Lila, bounced around the corner, her thick blond hair standing straight up in a perfectly sculpted fauxhawk. “You know she doesn’t want to get in a car with your ass.”
Right then I loved Lila with the fire of a thousand suns.
I grabbed my purse from its spot on the floor just as Holly came through the door to relieve me. Dex didn’t attempt to ask again, just jerked his chin when I said, “See you tomorrow.”
I drove to my Mom’s house—the house I grew up in—to pick up my brother and his friend for the Panthers game.
“Hi, honey,” my mom said after I walked through the back door to the kitchen. “Cam’s just getting out of the shower. He’ll be ready in a few minutes, then we’ll go pick up Ryan.”
My brother was a pretty well-rounded kid. He enjoyed sports, God love him, and had a ton of friends. He was a freshman in high school and despite our several-year age difference, we still looked out for each other and remained close.
“How were your classes this week, sweetie?” Mom asked after taking a sip of her herbal concoction. She was all about having a clean body and healthy mind, but she didn’t try to force it on the rest of us. I’d tried her teas and could barely even stand the smell. Still, I respected her lifestyle—my parents had provided me my outlook on life and had taught me some valuable lessons. They were shrewd and open and accepting. The coolest parents on the planet.
For certain, my family was an eclectic mix, but we all valued and appreciated each other. Even more so since my dad died. My mom and I still talked on almost a daily basis. When I’d made the decision to rent the basement apartment, it had been a tough choice between there and home. Mom supported my move and I still helped with my brother whenever I could, giving him rides or checking up on him.
“Classes are good,” I said. “I developed the bridge pictures and they look great.”
“I’m still so glad that your friend Nate was with you when your tire gave out,” she said. “Could’ve been worse. I’m impressed your dad’s truck has held up this long.”
Her eyes still lit up whenever she talked about my dad. Even though I sometimes wished she’d move on and start dating again, I was almost glad she didn’t. There was no question in my mind that my parents had been made for each other. Not only were they best friends, but sometimes, they could barely keep their hands off each other. God, I appreciated that now.
When my dad passed away, a large piece of me went with him. I think my mom’s soul died that day, but not her spirit. She told me she’d never marry again, but deep down I wasn’t sure my dad would approve of that plan.
Unfortunately Dad’s illness had burdened Mom with tons of medical expenses and even though his life insurance helped, little else had been left. We’d never been rich, maybe not even comfortable most of the time, but we were happy. And we made do with what we had.
“Your dad would be proud, you know,” she said, swiping my hair behind my ear. “That you’re using his camera and pursuing photography.”