The Boy I Grew Up With Page 31

She squealed and hurried to take Rebecca’s other arm as Channing was coming back in.

He grinned at me. “Gus is making a list of theme-night ideas while he waits for Roy. Looks like he’ll be waiting for him a long time.” He stared at the trio that just left, stopping in front of me. His hands came to my shoulders, and he began to rub them.

“Hey, man.” Brandon waved to him, going back behind the bar. “Thanks for the assist there.”

Channing said something back. I wasn’t listening. His hands were still rubbing.

“Holy shit. That feels good.”

“Your office?” His head dipped down, grazing my ear. “Please?”

Hell to the yes.

Once we were in, I started to turn, but he stopped me.

I heard the door lock behind us at the same time he pulled me back against him. Pressing up behind me, I felt what else was ready for me.

I glanced up at him. “Be honest. Gus did that for you, didn’t he? He got you all excited talking about social adventurist capital theme nights.”

“You know it.” He pressed into me again. “Oh. What happened with Suki?”

I told him.

He frowned, studying me. “Use her.”

I frowned back at him. “What do you mean?”

He smoothed the back of my hair, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I mean, use her for what she has to offer. She’s entertaining. She’s obsessed with cooking, so let her go as a manager, but have her do gourmet dinners. It can be a whole event where people sign up to watch her cook. And if you want to really add to the entertainment, have Brandon be her assistant or something. The two bicker like a married couple.”

Maybe. I liked the idea.

He asked, “You open in the morning?”

“Yeah.” I stepped back, though I didn’t want to. “Katrina’s going to close this weekend for me, and next week.”

He nodded, taking Brandon’s seat and then pulling me onto his lap. “I gotta take off in the morning.”

I stiffened in his arms. “What time?”

“Early.”

So neither of us would be getting a lot of sleep tonight.

Normal people would go home, bump uglies in a nice and comfortable manner, then settle in for as much sleep as possible. Not us, and most certainly not Channing. If he had to get up early, and it was already nearing one in the morning, he was going to draw out the fucking.

I eyed him. “Do I want to ask why you’re getting up so early?”

Tuesday Tits opened at eleven.

“No.” He trailed a finger down my arm. I was half entranced by it. “It’s crew stuff.”

Oh.

I was in his arms, and I knew what would happen next.

He would pull me closer to him. He would kiss my neck, my throat, my lips. His hands would go to my hips. One would slide to my stomach, and he would start making me pant. The other would dip into my pants.

He’d make me hot and bothered, slipping a finger inside me.

It didn’t matter where we were.

I’d melt in his arms until he lifted me and placed me where he wanted. On the desk, on the bed, the counter, the couch, against the shower wall, against a door. It didn’t matter. I’d fall under his spell and forget that he was going to leave my bed for his crew, right up until he had to go.

That’s what normally happened.

There was a but coming.

His hand started for me, and I caught his wrist.

“What?”

Things were different now.

“I want to know what’s going on with the crew. I want you to tell me.”

He pulled back and regarded me.

He hadn’t hit the lights, but some illumination filtered under the door from the hallway. It was enough, just barely, to cast him in shadow. I felt him put a wall up.

“You don’t like my crew stuff.”

I pressed my lips together and swallowed. The knee-jerk reaction was there. Years of fighting about his crew had set me off. I tamped it down.

“I have loved you almost all my life,” I told him. “And I don’t see myself loving anyone else.”

God.

I stripped away all the layers we’d erected over the years. I was so scared of losing him, I pushed him away most of the time. Or I let him pull away.

But we’re different now, I told myself.

We had to be different. I had to be different.

“Heather?”

I shook my head. “This is it, Channing. We either make this time work or…” Oh, fuck. Was I actually going to say this? My throat was burning. “Or we need to walk away, and I mean it.”

He leaned forward, his face coming back into that little bit of light.

I could see his eyes again.

And I felt a little stronger inside. I felt surer, more certain.

This was the right direction to go. It had to be. I didn’t know if I could survive another Naly, another promise of so much more, only to lose it all.

“Shit or get off the pot, you mean?”

I nodded. “Shit or go somewhere else to shit.”

His mouth curved up. “If that doesn’t put me in the mood, then I don’t know what will.”

I mirrored his smile. It clicked, whatever it was, and fell into place.

Channing was never going to leave his crew, so it was up to me. I had to be okay with it. If not, then I’d have my answer.

“I want to know what you’re doing tomorrow,” I said again.

He was so close. He sat up straighter. His arms tightened around me, pulling me to straddle him. His hand cupped the side of my face.

I didn’t know he’d touch me there, but I loved it. I closed my eyes, savoring him. His other hand went to my waist. He pressed against me. Holding me. It meant something.

He held me like I was the most fragile piece of glass.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked.

I shuddered, my hands resting against his stomach, feeling the ridges of his muscles there. “Yes.”

I had to know.

I had to try.

“Okay.”

24

Heather

Seventh grade

“Hey.”

Channing dropped down next to me. We were up on a large boulder, sitting higher than most everyone else.

Most were either swimming in the springs or drinking under some of the tents they’d put up for shade. I loved the springs, and I loved that it seemed only a Roussou place to go, even though Frisco wasn’t too far from here either. Today, as I watched everyone, I was kinda hoping they’d all just go away.

“Hey.” Even I winced at my tone. Dull and lame.

Channing paused, then nudged my arm. “What’s wrong? Not in the partying mood?”

I moved my arm out of the way, pulling my shirt down a bit more.

“My brother’s here.” Stupid Brandon. Sucking face with some girl. Football, drinking, and sucking face—those were his three favorite pastimes.

Channing laughed. “He is. Is that Melanie Fina?”

Melanie Fina was a grade younger than my brother, and she had an STD reputation.

I growled. “Great. Look, now I have to go over and interrupt that before he gets something he’s stuck with for the rest of his life, and he’s going to get mad at me. I’m not the older one, he is. But is he acting like it?”

Channing just smiled. “What are you really mad about? You and I both know it’s not your brother. You like going to the same parties with him.”

“You’re annoying.”

He poked my arm. “Tell me.”

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