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I wished I felt a tenth of Brock’s confidence. “It’s because of Grayson that you took an interest in me. All this time, I thought it was because of that night at the wedding.” It was completely out of character for the Elite to take notice of a new girl, yet from day one, I’d been on their radar.

Holding the steering wheel with one hand, he turned down the radio with the other. “I already told you I didn’t go to the wedding to sleep with you. It’s the truth. That was not my intention. You took me by surprise.”

“And you just couldn’t say no.”

He shot me a sideline glance. “Would you have? Besides, you looked like you needed the distraction. I didn’t know that night that you were his sister. It wasn’t until a few days after we found out.”

Boy, had I ever needed a distraction. “How long after did it take you to tell Grayson about what happened between us?”

Frowning, Brock turned onto Rosewood Lane. “I actually didn’t. Carter saw us that night and couldn’t wait to give me shit at school. Word got around.”

“What a prick,” I hissed, shaking my head as I glared out the front window at the cars in front of us.

The muscle along his jaw clenched. “Grayson was livid with me. You weren’t supposed to be part of this, not until we figured you out. But Carter…”

“He changed everything,” I finished.

“Something like that.” I heard the underlying anger in his voice, regardless that his expression never changed.

Talking about Carter only pissed both of us off. There were so many unknown obstacles in my path. I didn’t want Brock to be one of them. I didn’t know where we stood, and I needed at least one answer I could count on. “So what the fuckisgoing on between us? Are we friends?” The question felt like sandpaper in my throat. Friends with benefits? Friends who couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other? That wasn’t the kind of friend I was looking for.

But on the flip side, I definitely wasn’t interested in a relationship.

Right?

I tried to envision what a serious romantic relationship with Brock would look like. Holding hands in public. Sharing his fries on dinner dates. But it was what happened behind closed doors that got me hot and bothered.

Then he said, “I have all the friends I need,.”

Talk about a dagger to the heart. “Oh.” I did a shitty job of hiding my disappointment as my expression fell. It wasn’t like I was expecting him to declare his undying love, and I didn’t think I could just be friends with him, despite that I was the one who put it out there. But…

Brock’s lips twitched as he swung his car into his driveway and slipped the car into park. He shifted in his seat, leaning an elbow on the center console. “I’ve said it before. You and I, we can never be just friends, Firefly.” His eyes darted to my lips and stayed there.

My body grew warm despite the heat in the car fading. “And why is that?” I asked, conscious of his eyes devouring my mouth as it moved.

“You know why,” he murmured, moving closer.

Maybe, but I wanted to hear him say it. I lifted a brow.

His thumb grazed over my lower lip, leaving behind a trail of tingles. “We have too much chemistry.”

Like a magnet drawn to metal, I leaned closer to him, aligning our lips. “Is that what this is? Chemistry?” The temperature inside the Land Rover went up a thousand degrees. Molecules. Elements. Atoms. Ions. Whatever it was, I was helpless when it came to Brock. Powerless.

Tiny flecks of annoyance fluttered inside me at the idea of Brock having that kind of influence over me. It was overrun by swift desire.

My brain clicked off the moment Brock’s lips touched mine. Only with him did the world fall away, all my problems with it. He offered me sweet oblivion, a place where only he and I existed. Where no fear, no pain, no hurt lived.

Because I wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible, I slid my hand into his damp hair and deepened the kiss. My mouth became more urgent, my fingers greedy, curling. It took some maneuvering as Brock drew me across the seat into his lap, giving his hands access to my body.

God, yes.

His lips almost made up for the incredible shitty Monday, but his hands, they made forget what day of the week it was. He cupped my breast through the borrowed shirt, and I groaned into his mouth. My hips rotated, pressing against the front of his pants. He was hard. So hard.

Brock wanted me.Me. Headiness rushed into my head at the thought.

His lips fell to my throat, and my head dropped back. I gripped his shoulders, relishing each sensation that rocked through my body. How could someone make me feel so free?

I shifted to get closer. I had to feel him. My fingers went to the button on his pants and—


Tags: J.L. Weil Elite of Elmwood Romance