Pretty Boy D: A Best Friends to Lovers Standalone (Kings of Cypress Pointe Book 4)

Joss

A smile touches my lips as the little girl in the next car holds her doll up to the window for me to see. I wave, then the light turns green, and we take off. For some reason, her sweet, cheerful face reminds me what a good day it’s been.

An oddly smooth day.

At random, I’ve drifted in and out of memory lapses from last night—feeling Dane’s touch, feeling his skin against my own hands. Being involved with him in this way, it isn’t for the faint of heart, that’s for sure. He has this way of getting to you, getting so deep inside your head, under your skin, it makes me wonder if there will be any turning back after this, any going back to who we were once this experiment is all over.

Waking up with my cheek pressed to his chest, his hand against my back, I also wondered if it had been wise to let him spend the night in my bed. But the gesture hit me right in the heart. Any girl in her right mind would’ve told him yes.

Surprisingly enough, there was very little awkwardness once we got out of bed and made our way to the kitchen for breakfast—eggs and toast that he cooked. Well, maybe it started off awkward, but Dane burned all that away. Seeing that nothing had changed with him, seeing he’s still the same chill person he was even before all this started, I relaxed, and we fell into just being us.

Easy.

Normal.

The breeze wafting in through the open window snaps me out of the daze, as does the biting sting at the top of my ear. The piercing wasn’t nearly as painful as it was half an hour ago, though. Dane was right—getting high first helped. Plus, we killed two birds with one stone—getting my cartilage pierced and me smoking my first joint—which is why neither of us was in any shape to drive. Instead, we opted for the Uber currently maneuvering us through traffic.

In my head, I visualize the lined notebook paper with my list written in purple marker, then I cross off the three items Dane selected. I got my tattoo, I got high, and I got pierced. Now, the only thing left is number eleven. I’ve admittedly thought about losing my virginity more in the past few days than I’ve thought about it my entire life.

Why?

Asking myself that question, my head swivels left, toward the green-eyed tempter sharing the backseat with me. He’s slouched toward me with his shoulder pressed to mine, scrolling through his phone. Even when he isn’t trying, he’s sexy. From the way his free hand aimlessly rakes through his dark, glossy hair after the wind tousles it. To the way his teeth drag across his lip while he concentrates. Then, sunlight filters in, outlining his perfect features in shimmering, gold light and, best friend or not, I kind of want to kiss him right now.

“Our video’s blowing up.”

I force my eyes away from him when he speaks, pretending my thoughts hadn’t been on him a second ago.

“You mean the video you shared without my permission?” I ask, arching a brow before a smile breaks free.

“Come on. You know my followers love when I post shit about us,” he reasons with a smirk.

“Maybe, but will Rose love it?”

Right away, I regret letting that slip. I haven’t so much as hinted that there’s any kind of tension between she and I. But with Dane’s silence, I know the comment didn’t go over his head.

“Did she say something to you?”

He’s on the defense. The sharp edges of his words make that abundantly clear. I’m reminded of that day in Mrs. Kent’s homeroom when he taught Alex a lesson. One I’m certain the guy has never forgotten.

“Not really. It was more or less… a vibe.”

That word fits best, so I leave it at that.

I glance his way, finding him deep in thought, and maybe even a little angry, which wasn’t my intention at all.

“Honestly, I probably read too much into things,” I say. “At the most, she might’ve made me feel a little uncomfortable.”

When his eyes flicker toward mine, I believe he sees right through the lie. Even though I only told it to protect him. He shouldn’t feel obligated to defend me, obligated to choose.

“Why am I just now hearing about this?” His voice is quiet and reflective, but still holds a flare of anger.

“Because it really wasn’t that big a deal to me.”

“Well, you being disrespected is a big fucking deal to me,” he snaps.

The venom in his tone is only meant for Rose.

He seems to become aware of the spike in anger, then relaxes into his seat a bit, averting his eyes out the window.

“She called the night of the shoot,” he reveals. “Your name came up and I checked that shit right away, so she shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

My brow ticks a bit. I guess his response to Rose prying into his personal life is a little surprising. I mean, I know Dane cares for me, but I also know how hard he’s worked to lay the foundation for the empire he hopes to build. Rose is a key part of that right now. From what I’m hearing, though, he risked there being bad blood between them to speak up on my behalf.

“I didn’t know she mentioned me to you,” I say quietly, wondering about the specifics of what was said, but not having the courage to ask.

“Just know it was a very short, very cut-and-dry conversation,” he says. “I’d never let anyone trash you. I don’t give a fuck who they are.”

All these years later, he still hasn’t changed. Of all the people who’ve ever had my back, most have also failed me at some point, but not Dane. He’s been my one constant.

When his gaze flickers toward me, I’m caught staring this time. The tip of his tongue separates his lips when he wets them, and I draw in a breath, remembering all too clearly how they taste.

“But Rose’s bullshit aside, I have an idea,” he rasps, grinning a little. “We should do another movie night tonight, and you have my word that I’ll keep my hands to myself this time.”

The quiet laugh he lets out after speaking makes this promise very hard to believe.

His hand settles on my thigh then, and my gaze lowers, focusing on the black, beaded bracelet around his wrist.

“You’ll keep your hands to yourself?”

I peer up and he’s still smirking. “Well, maybe I should’ve said I’ll try.”

With us both sort of leaning into each other, he’s already close. Close enough that, if I were brave, I could kiss him. My eyes lower to his mouth and a breath leaves me. I’m aware of how the space between us has narrowed but I don’t fight it. Actually, I lean in, meeting him halfway.

His hand slips up my thigh another inch and my heart’s racing so fast my pulse vibrates in my throat. The noise of the city fades until I can’t hear it at all, until it’s swallowed up by the haze of need thickening around us.

We’ve kissed before, a few times now, but none felt like this. Our lips have become so familiar with one another’s—mine anticipating how his will move, knowing when to part for his tongue. There’s a rhythmic ebb and flow that draws me right into him.

His hand slips free when he shifts in the seat, facing me as the kiss deepens. I breathe him in and welcome his taste inside my mouth. He grips my waist, burning my skin with his heat where he holds me tight.

My soul chases after his when he pulls back, but I’m too proud to ask for more. I will my eyes to open and only then does Dane’s hand fall away from my skin.

“Had to get that out of my system before tonight. Otherwise, I can’t say for sure I wouldn’t go back on my word.”

I hardly hear what he’s said despite my eyes being glued to his mouth. With the energy that surges between us, there’s no doubt that a traditional movie night would be difficult, if not impossible, for us to pull off.

This wasn’t the plan. I wasn’t supposed to get to the point that I swoon after kissing him. Our arrangement was supposed to be physical only. Not… this. Not my heart fluttering because he’s tracing a figure-eight on my knee with the tip of his finger. Not me thinking I want him in my bed again.

I’m breaking the rules, getting too comfortable.

Shit.

A sharp rush of air fills my lungs when he gets a notification and I’m jarred back to reality. I’m not trying to read the message, but it’s kind of hard not to with how close we’re sitting.

It’s Rose and my stomach turns a bit.

Rose: I lucked up on tickets to the Arland-Danston Modeling Agency’s meet-up. They’re hosting it downtown at the art gallery! This is huge!

Dane: Sweet. When?

Rose: Tonight. I’ve been trying to get these since last month, when I first heard they’d be in Cypress Pointe. A friend with tickets fell ill and offered me hers. My assistant will be bringing a tux to your door in thirty minutes, after she checks on Shawna at the salon. Then, I have cars picking you both up at 6.

Dane: Tonight’s kind of short notice, isn’t it?

Rose: Short notice, yes, but this isn’t just any event, Dane. Whatever you have going on can be postponed, I’m sure. Don’t let me down.

The rims of my nostrils flare with frustration. It’s not one particular thing that rubs me the wrong way, but the whole exchange. Rose herself, how pushy she is with Dane, and her mentioning Shawna.

Mostly her mentioning Shawna.

Dane’s fingers move across the screen and, again, I glance down at the message. He’s halfway into a response, turning down Rose’s offer when words fly from my mouth.

“You should go.”

Not only do I hear the silence, I feel it. All around me as Dane’s confusion mounts.

“But we just made plans,” he says flatly. “Rose doesn’t get to alter my life with a last-minute text.”

I understand and appreciate what he’s doing, honoring our movie date, but I can’t help but to see this as a sign. We’ve been moving so fast—maybe even too fast—and some time apart might be good for us, might lessen the pull, might extinguish some of the heat.

Hopefully.

But I don’t miss the frustration that marks Dane’s expression as he keeps his eyes trained on me.

“You really want me to say yes to this? A night out with Shawna?” he asks.

My heart thunders against my ribs, the two responses inside my brain struggling against each other. That is, until one wins and I rush to speak.

“It sounds like this could be a good networking opportunity,” I reason. “These meet-ups draw some pretty important people out of the woodwork. And… that’s kind of huge for you right now. No telling what you’ll miss if you don’t go.”

Something flickers in his eyes and I try not to let it affect me, bracing myself.

“There’s no telling what I’ll miss if I do,” he says, his stare darkening with the words.

Heat creeps up my spine, and that feeling is precisely the reason we need a break.

“Joss.” His voice is distant when he speaks my name. Like he’s holding back, fighting himself on saying more.

My chest rises with the deep breaths that follow. I’m not strong enough to keep up this façade for long, so I pray he doesn’t push.

“Just say the word and I’ll turn this down. In a heartbeat,” he says softly, pinning me to my seat with that deep gaze he’s kept set on me this whole time.

I want to cave. Everything in me wants me to cave, but… I can’t.

Memories of my parents’ loveless marriage flash in my thoughts—empty glances, broken promises, betrayal—and they sober me quickly.

We cannot become them.

Ever.

“You have to say yes,” I answer. “Besides, I’ve got work to catch up on, too. I haven’t replied to any of your email messages in a few days and I need to get started building your website. So, yeah. I think you should go.”

On the outside, I try to make it look like I don’t care, but on the inside, I feel everything—instant regret, jealousy at the thought of another night spent with Shawna, anger toward myself that I can’t seem to just let this happen.

With a sharp tick of his jaw, Dane’s brows gather in the center and, damn, his frustration is palpable. My eyes stay glued to him as he lifts his phone again, watching as he erases the first message, replacing it with another. One that’s more sensible, one that’s safe, one that’s better for us both.

Dane: I’m in.

With that, he shoves the phone into his pocket, then shifts his weight in the opposite direction, leaning away to settle against the door instead.

He watches the city pass outside his window and I watch him—the only boy I’ve ever really trusted, the only one who makes me feel like, saying yes to him, could be the difference between having it all and losing it all. And, if I’m honest, that scares the shit out of me.

He hates this, being kept at arm’s length, but only because he doesn’t know what I know, hasn’t seen what I saw growing up with two people who started out very much like we have. I’m protecting our friendship, protecting our hearts.

Protecting him.

As bad as this hurts, it’s what’s best.