“You can’t be serious.” My hands rest on my hips as Pippa throws my pants from last night on the bed.
“I said I’m sorry!” Pippa says, shoving her arms through the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “If it was anything else, I would’ve said I couldn’t help. But this is my brother and best friend, Camden.”
My cock throbs. I try to run my hands along it to get some sort of relief, but it’s no use. I’m going to be blue-balled, and there’s nothing I can say. She’s determined to help the people she loves—something I’d admire if I wasn’t hard as a goddamn rock for her, my cock still wet with her saliva.
“You don’t have to come with me. You can stay here and wait, and I’ll come back and…” Her eyes drift to my cock. “Finish what I started.”
“Damn straight we’ll finish this later,” I growl, angrily stepping into my boxer briefs.
“Don’t you have people you love? People you’d drop things for?”
I’d drop anything for you.
I seal my lips shut, not ready to admit that. All I do is pull clothes on and aim a dirty look in her direction whenever she looks at me. I hate that she’s a good person. I don’t, not really. But it’s really inconvenient at the moment.
“This wouldn’t be happening if they could just communicate better,” I spit, following her into the bathroom.
She laughs, running a brush through her hair. It’s a tangled mess from last night, from having my fingers weave through it as I fucked her. I was really looking forward to pulling the long strands of her hair while I fucked her face. Instead, I get to play goddamn cupid with her for her brother and best friend, who apparently don’t know how to use a phone.
“Probably,” she quips. “But they’re both stubborn as hell. They wanted to surprise one another. I think it’s cute, even if it failed on both their ends.”
“Why don’t I just book a private jet for your friend to get a flight back to Chicago? I could pull some strings and get it there quickly.”
“You’d charter a private jet for my best friend so I can go back to giving you a blow job?”
My frown turns into a smile. “Yes.”
She closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my middle and looking up at me with a smile. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she teases.
I roll my eyes because I know I’ve said things far more romantic. Things I’ve wondered if I should’ve admitted or not. “Is that a yes?” I pull out my phone and hold it up between us. “I’ll make the call right now.”
She pushes against my phone. “No. I’m leaving in two minutes. If you’re coming with me, you need to be ready.”
“What happens if I don’t come?” I’ve already decided I’ll come with her. In my mind, I had her to myself all day. I don’t want to miss out on more time with her, even if a lot of it is tragically spent with other people.
“Then I’ll consider you not a hopeless romantic. It’ll make you way less attractive. A mini road trip will be fun,” she adds on, squeezing through her bathroom door.
“One more minute, Camden!” she calls from her hallway. I look over at Kitty, who stares up at me with big puppy dog eyes. Her tail wags enthusiastically, making a thumping sound as it hits the bathroom door.
I don’t have hair gel here, which is unfortunate because my hair is a mess. I wet my hands, trying to tame it as best as possible. I’m due for a haircut, but I won’t get it done in Sutten. Next time I’m back in Manhattan, I’ll have to book something with my barber. The water doesn’t work as effectively as I thought it would. My eyes scan over her bathroom counter, trying to see if she has anything I could use. I land on a giant red can of hair spray. Shrugging, I pull the lid off and spray my hair, almost hitting myself in the eyes in the process.
“What are you doing?” Pippa asks from behind me, a smile playing on her lips.
The can drops to the sink, making a loud clanking sound as it hits the marble. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I’m sure I look guilty as fuck, my hands crossed over my chest as I try to act inconspicuous.
She giggles, keys jangling in her hand as she attempts to cover her smile. “I’m never going to let you live that down. Just so you know, that was dry shampoo. Not hair spray.”
I let out a disgruntled sigh, pushing past her and walking toward her kitchen. Her footsteps follow me through the hallway. I open the door, letting Kitty out into the backyard before we leave.
When I turn around, I find Pippa still beaming at me. “My hair looked like shit because someone tugged on it all night. You had no gel. Water didn’t do shit. It was my only option.”
Her lips twitch. “You’re pretty cute when you’re flustered.”
I roll my eyes. “Perfect. Instead of coming down your throat this morning, I get to hear you call me cute. This is exactly how I wanted the morning to go,” I grumble, opening the back door and letting Kitty back in. I give her a few scratches on her ear before Pippa claps her hands together.
“Okay! We’ve got to go. I forgot my truck needed gas, so we’re going to have to take the van, but it should be fun. I just might have to speed a little so we don’t miss Cade.”
“Kitty, all of this could be solved if people just knew how to text,” I tell the dog, giving her one last chin scratch. I think I’m even getting attached to Pippa’s dog.
I follow Pippa out the front door, waiting for her to lock it before I follow her down the driveway. We walk past her truck and stop at her bright pink van. I remember it vividly from Beck and Margo’s wedding, the memory of icing splattered all over the suit that cost me three grand.
“This is the most you thing I’ve ever seen,” I clip, climbing into the passenger seat. I close the door a little too hard, making my thoughts on our current little field trip obvious.
I’d much rather have my cock in her perfect, warm mouth right now. Or at this point, I’d already have been pounding into her from behind as she watched me fuck her through the mirror on her dresser.
Or I could be making her breakfast in bed, doing something sweet because she makes me want to do shit like that. Instead, we get to play matchmaker for two people who could solve all their problems with a simple phone call.
Pippa climbs into the driver’s seat, turning the car on and backing out of her driveway too fast for me to feel safe. I grip the handle above my head for dear life.
She looks over at me, shaking her head. “That’s a tad bit dramatic.”
It turns out I’m not being overdramatic because she has to slam on the brake before almost running right into the poor mailman.
She waves her hand out the window at him. “I’m so sorry, Joel! We’re in a rush!”
He gives her a dismissive wave. She doesn’t wait long for anything else, stepping on the pedal and rushing out of her quiet neighborhood. I close my eyes. I’m not a religious man by any means, but I say a prayer that she doesn’t get us killed before we even make it to her friend.
