She comes without hesitation, laying her head on my chest as my arms wrap around her waist to hold her tight.
“The truth is, though,” I say softly. “Last night was a fucking revelation to me.”
“You mean the sex was really good?” she inquires, lifting her eyes up to mine.
“It was fucking stupendous, and you know it,” I admonish. “But it means that you and I had been tight on many, many levels before, and we’re tighter yet now that we’ve reached a new level of intimacy.”
She doesn’t respond, but instead snuggles in closer until I can’t see her face anymore. She lays quietly for so long I think perhaps she’s having some internal dialogue I don’t feel I should be cut out of.
“But if you think this was wrong, and that we shouldn’t do this again, I’ll respect that.”
She doesn’t say anything and the quiet is alarming.
“Mollie?” I prompt, giving her a slight squeeze. “What do you want?”
She pushes back from me once again so I can see her face. “The way I see it, you take two best friends and the start of a sexual relationship, then that is the highest level of relationship you can have. It’s deeper than what we’ve had before. It’s serious.”
“Yes.”
“And well… you’re the type of man who is built for that Kane. You’re all about stability, and well… I’m a wanderer. I don’t even have a home. Haven’t had one since I graduated college.”
She’s not fucking wrong. It’s been the thing that has always been a wall between us whenever I’d ever imagined having something deeper with her. Mollie would constantly be gone, and hell, my career keeps me on the road a lot.
“Maybe,” I posit after a moment of thought. “Maybe our friendship is our home.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
I shrug. “I’m not quite sure, but I guess a home can be anything we make of it. We can consider our friendship to be four walls and a roof, and what you and I have on the inside is all that counts, right?”
Her frown deepens. “When did you turn into a fucking philosopher?”
Chuckling, I roll on my side to face her, touching my palm to her cheek. “I just think with all we’ve been through, and all we mean to each other, the sex shouldn’t change our definition. We’re still best friends. Now with some supreme benefits, I will point out, but maybe you and I were always destined to end up here. Everyone has said it. You and I just chose to ignore it. And last night, we both wanted this. We were both clear-headed when we made the grab for each other. We knew the consequences then, and we’re ironing them out now, but I don’t see why we can’t press forward.”
“As a couple?” she hedges.
“Yes. As a couple.”
“But I don’t know where my future is?” she laments, reaching up to pull my hand from her cheek, but only to bring it in to clutch over her breastbone. “What if it’s back on the open road? Are you going to leave your career to join me?”
The thought of walking away from hockey causes the pit of my stomach to tighten. All I can honestly say is, “I don’t know.”
“Or what if I give that up to stay here by your side, then hate you because I gave up traveling?”
“I don’t know that either, Mollie.” The truthfulness in my words causes her eyes to fill with sorrow. “But what I do know is that we’ll never know, not unless we move forward. It’s either that or perhaps have a lifetime of regret.”
Suddenly, she lurches to her knees. Admittedly, I get sidetracked by her beautiful, naked form in a complete vision before me. She holds her hand out, pinky extended. “Pinky promise.”
“What?”
“Pinky promise that no matter what, you’ll always be my best friend,” she demands, shoving her hand toward me.
“What the fuck is a pinky promise?” I ask.
“It’s something you do as kids,” she says with an eye roll. The next thing I know, her pinky is hooked around mine. “Promise me, Kane… you will always be my best friend, no matter what.”
I tighten my pinky on hers. “I promise. Best friends forever.”
She stares down, her gaze slowly moving to where our hands are connected. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then what?” I ask to be sure we’re on the same page. We didn’t exchange blood, but I feel like what we did was meaningful.
“Then we’ll give this a shot,” she says, her eyes not coming to my face. Instead, they travel from our hands to my stomach. “See how this plays out.”
Her eyes travel down a bit farther, to where the edge of the sheet is draped over my crotch and legs.
She releases her hold on me, moving her hand to the edge of the sheet. As she slowly drags it down, the soft cotton whispering over my cock causes it to stir. The way her eyes go hot as she stares causes it to swell.