Page 79 of Changing Lanes

“Shit,” Paige repeats as she goes limp almost falling face first onto my pillows. Luckily I catch her with my forearm before she makes contact and guide her safely to the side instead.

Marc, still in the hall, mutters a “what the fuck?” before finally taking the hint and kicking rocks, hopefully taking Cynthia with him to get her ride out of here situated. If her car isn’t gone by the time I leave this apartment, I’m calling our guy at the tow company we work with. Last night feels like its own bad dream and I don’t want any reminders from it. Not after this.

I’ll catch up with Marc later anyway. Or not. Dude can wallow in wonder.

Propped up on my side, I wipe my face on the sheet, then try not to laugh as I kiss Paige’s trembling back up to her neck.

My lips flat to her ear, I say, “Thanks for the snack. Want to shower first or-”

She’s already nodding, making me release the laugh I’d been holding in. Her head twists to the side with a tired sort of sigh and I see her cuts.

I smack her bare ass, giving it a strong kneading, then promise to take care of her forehead once she’s all cleaned up. I offer to do that for her too, but she doesn’t so much as bite before getting dressed.

I’ll give Paige this, there’s not an ounce of shame in her walk as she leaves to face her friend. If anything, she looks ready to do a victory lap as she strides past the door she broke.

And that right there makes me want her all over again.

How many hours are in a day again? I have a feeling I’m gonna need them all today.

* * *

After getting properly dressed in a pair of shorts dark enough to cover any wet spots and meeting Cynthia with a giant smile plastered to my face—ain’t no shame in my game either—we take turns showering, separately unfortunately, then meet back up in the living room to head out for the day.

With her friend long gone, I find Paige standing by the front door rocking a loose skull tee with the armpits cut clear out to the top of black shorts that barely cover her ass. Luckily, she has a strappy bra thing to cover the tits I was just ogling but the thin material leaves little to the imagination. Her hair has a braid on the top that looks like a faux-hawk pulled into a ponytail with her burgundy waves flowing down her back.

Chick looks like she’s going to a rock concert, not a car garage with heavy machinery and dickwads galore.

“Yeah, no.” She turns to me with a questioning look on her face. “It was hard enough keeping the guys’ eyes off you yesterday. There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to fend them off today. You can’t wear that.”

A dazzling smile showing off almost every one of her straight white teeth is the only response I get before she opens the door and struts outside—still wearing the goddamn outfit.

Releasing a low growl, I switch my hat to face backward on my head then follow after her. And damn if a grin doesn’t slip out in the process.

CHAPTER 19

Beckett

Paige and I arrive a little late to the party-that’s-not-supposed-to-be-a-party. Even after spending the day with her, I wanted to prolong our time together by taking the long way out to Coty and Angela’s new house. I even drove her by the property Coty showed me. I started to tell her about his big plans of wanting the three of us to live near each other someday but ended up stopping when she got tears in her eyes. Like what the hell? Sentimental much?

I don’t know what that was about but then Angie whisked her away the second we stepped out of my Tahoe and I haven’t been able to follow up with her about it. I just hope it wasn’t something I said that upset her. Every time I’m around her I say something to screw things up. Except for today. Today’s been pretty fantastic so far.

And now as she bounces through introductions, I don’t dare take my eyes off her. She doesn’t know many people here and I might need to rescue her from an awkward situation. Or beat up the guy that’s currently eye-fucking the shit out of her. You know, friendly support or whatever.

Leaving Paige on her own, Angie joins the table, putting her hand on Coty’s shoulder and asks me, “Why are you looking at Paige like you’re about to devour her and go back for seconds?”

‘Cause I already did.

Fed up with keeping my hands off her for the entire morning—I mean, come on, she looked like a fucking wet dream waltzing around my workspace—I sweet-talked Paige into the bathroom for a repeat of my breakfast but for lunch this time. She argued that it was brunch since it wasn’t even afternoon and I told her I didn’t give a shit what it was called as long as I got to taste her again. The debate ended the second my head dove between her thighs and let’s just say I walked away a fully satisfied man.

“Who says I haven’t?”

To be honest, watching her from across the yard is getting my dick hard again and these blue balls I’ve been sporting are about to become a real problem soon. Chick is turning me on without even meaning to and I might have to steal her away again before the end of the night. She hasn’t even touched me yet, which is crazy because in the world of give and receive in sex, I’m definitely a receiver. Sure, I give enough in the heat of the moment—I’m not that much of an asshole—but make no mistake, I’m a receiver. With Paige though, it’s not even about that. I actually want to make her feel good. I want to watch her come apart again and again without even considering my own needs.

“Please don’t tell me you fucked the new roommate,” Coty says.

“He did,” Marc interrupts. “I heard it this morning. I had my suspicions but dude hit that for sure.”

I scoff. “First of all, serves you right lurking outside my door.” Dude just shrugs, completely unapologetic. Our entire apartment is overrun by lurkers, I swear—myself included. “Second, we technically haven’t had sex yet, unless you count her fucking my face.” I point at said face for reference. Exhibit A, motherfuckers.