Reunion: A Friends to Lovers Romance Read online

  Except she wasn’t in my bed. She was in Barry’s.

  As if to punctuate my thoughts, a groan echoed from next door, the sound distinct through the walls. Jesus Christ, if I had to sit there and listen to them fuck, I’d swim the goddamn lake and walk home just to avoid it.

  But instead of moaning, Barry’s booming voice came through the wall, the volume high enough that I heard it clearly. “Quit being so difficult.” Then just the cadence of words, not spoken loud enough that I could make them out. As desperately as I didn’t want to hear any of it, I also had a sick fascination with what Hannah’s response might be. I hoped she was shoving him off her, making him sleep on top of the covers instead of under them. Or, hell, sending his ass to the basement.

  The curiosity got to me, and I leaned closer to the wall, hoping she’d make my night and tell him to fuck off. Instead, her voice rang out, clear and firm enough for me to catch every word. “You haven’t made me come in six years, Barry. Why would tonight be any different?”

  I froze, uncertain I’d heard her correctly, but from the raised tone of Barry’s voice a second later, there was no more doubt. He was pissed, shouting the kinds of bullshit a wounded ego brought about. Holy shit. Barry, the asshole who bragged about every conquest he had, who went on and on about how he’d made Hannah scream time and again, hadn’t been able to make her come? For six fucking years?

  I’d always taken her at her word that she was happy—no, that wasn’t true. She’d never said she was happy. She was always fine, and I’d accepted that. But being in her presence, seeing her in person for the first time in so long, feeling her body up against mine… How could I ignore it? Especially when I knew she wasn’t happy. Especially when I knew she wasn’t even satisfied.

  I clenched my teeth, trying to remind myself this was my brother’s girlfriend. Yes, he was an asshole, but was that enough to make me cross a line I had no business crossing? For ten years since he’d walked out the door without a backward glance, I’d held on to the idea that we were brothers, even when he could barely return a phone call. When he couldn’t even speak to my mother on her birthday or Mother’s Day. When he couldn’t be bothered to be a decent human being.

  He didn’t deserve Hannah. And she sure as hell didn’t deserve to be treated like that. She deserved a guy who sent her flowers just because, who called her out of the blue to tell her he loved her. At the very least, she deserved a guy who could make her come.

  And I was definitely up for the challenge.

  What had I gotten myself into? For twelve years—almost half of my life—I’d been putting up with Barry’s shit. Oh sure, it’d all started out normal. He was sweet in high school, kind even. Attentive. We had chemistry then. But a few years later when we headed off to college together, things had started to change. It’d been subtle at first, almost unnoticeable. His words had grown a little less loving, his actions a little less attentive. We’d been together for seven years before I really noticed the switch—I’d assumed we’d cooled off into a standard, albeit stale, relationship. We had passed college and moved out into the world to start our jobs and our lives, to move forward together when I started to wonder if I was making a mistake.

  And then two years ago, I’d found out about the other woman.

  Women, really.

  By then the job I chose, the one I loved, had beaten me down to the point that I simply didn’t care as much about life outside the hospital as I probably should have. Being a nurse in a busy emergency room was no joke, and it took all my attention and energy. I needed a support system, something I didn’t have living with Barry in the city. I only had him, so I dealt with his shit. Oh sure, I broke up with him and moved out after I knew about the first affair, but I always let him back when he came begging. I always forgave his mistakes. I bought the “never again” bullshit he served me, even while keeping him slightly at arm’s length. Until the last time six months ago. That one had hurt—she’d been someone I knew. Someone I trusted. That one, I doubted we would ever come back from.

  But being back on Temperance Falls, seeing people I had always thought of as true friends, had left me feeling off-kilter. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed being home until I’d driven over the bridge to the island I grew up on. That homesickness brought with it a nostalgic sense of something tied up completely in Barry and our memories together.

  This weekend was going to be an emotional roller coaster.

  “I had no intention of sleeping in the same room with you,” I said as I pushed past him into the little guest bedroom. One bed sat in the middle with a chair by the window. Those were my options. Barry or a backache from the chair. Thank God I brought my yoga mat.

  Barry shut the door behind him and huffed as if laughing at me. Dismissing my irritation as usual. “I’m doing you a favor, Banana. You can’t be in a room with anyone else—you snore.”

  Wait…I…did I? No. No way. Someone would have told me. Someone other than Barry. But there had never been someone other than Barry, and I hadn’t slept in the same room with anyone else since high school sleepovers with my friends. What if… “I do not snore.”

  “Yeah, you do, but it’s cute, so I deal. Now come here, little girl. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  Of course he hadn’t—I was good at avoiding him until my emotions got too raw from watching people die. Eventually, he’d corner me and drag me off to have martinis or specialty cocktails I couldn’t pronounce, wouldn’t want to drink, and couldn’t pay for on my salary.

  “Look, Barry. This…us…it’s not happening again. We’re done for good this time.”

  “Sure we are.” He smirked as he tugged off his shirt, leering my way when his hands dropped to the buckle on his belt. “You say that, but you don’t mean it.”

  I groaned loud and long, so damn tired of him. “I do mean it.”

  He lunged, grabbing me right off the ground and pinning my arms to the sides as he tried to kiss me. That bastard. I jerked and pulled away, hating when he picked me up. Hating to be overpowered by him. He knew that, knew I hated the nickname they’d all called me in elementary school, too. He simply didn’t care. About me, about my opinions, about anything other than himself.

  “Stop, Barry.”

  “Quit being so difficult,” he snapped. He dropped me onto the bed and pushed his pants over his hips, keeping one hand on my hip to hold me in place as he brought out his saccharine-sweet voice. “C’mon, baby. You know we’re good together. Let me remind you.” He crawled closer, making the tightness in my chest grow. The fury in my gut burn hotter. “Let me between those stubby little legs so I can make you come.”

  Oh, fuck no. My anger made my voice a little sharper than I’d intended, a little louder, too. “You haven’t made me come in six years, Barry. Why would tonight be any different?”

  His face went blank, his eyes practically emptying of life as I watched. Shit.

  “You’re a real bitch, you know that?” He jumped up from the bed, snatching his shirt from the floor and yanking it over his head. “You used to come home stinking of vomit and shit and that preservative stuff from the labs, and I was expected to just accept it. To pretend you’re sexy when you look like death and smell like it, too. Maybe if you hadn’t worked so much, you would have been easier to deal with. Or hey, how about you not cry all the time? Then maybe you’d be a little more responsive. It’s not my fault you’re fucking frigid.” He stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

  That…went just as I’d figured. God, he always turned things around to be my fault. Why had I never noticed that?

  Hell, if I was honest, I had noticed. I’d just been too stupid to care. Or too tired. Or too…me.

  Not wanting to sit around and wait for more from him, I slipped out the bedroom door and headed downstairs. I needed air and space, needed time to think. I needed a new life, a change of pace or scenery. Something different from what I’d been putting up with for so many years. I needed…a be
er.

  My pace quickened, my feet turning the wrong direction a time or two while taking me to the kitchen. I so rarely drank—something that annoyed Barry to no end. I worked so much and was on call so often that it was always bad timing for me to get tipsy. But tonight was different. I was off for four whole days and on the island again for our high school reunion. The storm meant we wouldn’t be going anywhere, which meant I could drink and relax and hunker down in the beautiful house of our friend Aaron. A beer sounded perfect.

  The refrigerator was packed with food, but on the bottom shelf sat rows upon rows of brown bottles with red labels. A Pops’ Hops logo beckoned, and I grinned as I reached for one. Luke’s beer—from his brewery. I had wanted so badly to come back when he’d opened the place, but Barry claimed he’d had to work, and I hadn’t owned a car then, so I’d been stuck. I’d also bought a car two months later because I had been tired of being reliant on Barry while we were still living together. He’d laughed at it—said my little beater wouldn’t last a year. She’d been with me for almost two years and had gotten me back home through the massive storms sweeping the Midwest. We showed him.

  God, I needed to stop thinking about my ex.

  I yanked off the bottle cap with the opener on the counter and took a deep pull from the beer. Cold, crisp, mellow. So good. Perfect for a summer night in the middle of a storm. Luke had such a talent, such a skill. And with that killer smile and those blue eyes, the muscled body that screamed sexual prowess…he had to be the most eligible bachelor on the island. No wonder Barry never came back—he couldn’t compete with his own stepbrother.

  “I really need to learn to stop being so petty,” I said to myself before taking another drink.

  “Usually, when people start talking to themselves, I cut them off.”

  I choked, coughing hard as my eyes found…holy hell. “Shit, Luke. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He stepped closer, the muscles of his abs clenching with every move. Muscles, as in multiple. And abs, as in bare. The man was shirtless and…much more decorated than I remembered him being. “Is there room for one more?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I nodded, trying hard to tear my eyes from the lines and swirls covering portions of his arms and chest. Good God, the man was a work of art in more ways than one. As if those bright eyes and panty-melting smile weren’t enough, he was also gorgeous. Tall and muscular and tattooed in a way that accented every dip. He was positively lickable. And I was staring. “Would you like a beer?”

  He held my gaze, not looking away for a moment. “I think I could use about twenty.”

  I blinked, something dark and warm swirling deep in my belly. Something like appreciation. Like arousal. Something I should not have been feeling for my boyfriend’s brother.

  Okay, ex-boyfriend’s stepbrother.

  God, the details didn’t make it any better.

  Yeah, really needed to stop staring. “Right. Beer.” I took a step toward the refrigerator, but Luke was faster. So much more…aggressive.

  “Sit down. You don’t need to wait on me.” He turned, showing me the full palette of his back. The shades of black and gray, the muscles.

  I needed to sit down, all right. I edged onto a stool at the kitchen island, watching as he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and opened it. Nearly shaking as he stalked closer and took the seat next to mine. So close.

  Too close.

  “I like this,” I said, indicating the bottle so he knew what I was talking about. “I really do. Everything about it tastes like summer.”

  The smile he shot me was more humble than usual but no less devastating. “Thanks. It’s our latest. Haven’t even debuted it at Hops yet. AJ calls it summer in a bottle.”

  “He’s right—that’s exactly what it made me think of.” I took another sip before setting the bottle against my thigh. “I’ve been wanting to get back so I can see the place. I hope to find time this weekend.” I shook my head, my lips twisting into a frown. “I should’ve come when you opened.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. You’ve been busy being a lifesaving rock star.”

  “Rock star might be selling it a little much. Pretty sure rock stars don’t come home with blood on their shoes.”

  “I think rock star might not be enough. Seriously, Hannah, what you do—” He shook his head, staring at the beer in his hand before catching my eye again. “It takes a lot of heart. Though, that’s something you’ve always had in spades.”

  I looked down, biting back my smile. A man gave me a compliment, and I practically turned into a blushing schoolgirl. What was wrong with me? “Thanks. It’s hard, but I love it. I really do.” I picked at the edge of the label on my bottle, the warmth of the buzz from the beer making my mouth a little looser than usual. “Other people, not so much.”

  His lips turned down, his eyes narrowing in a way that made me think I’d somehow pissed him off. “Other people are assholes.”

  Ah, not me. Barry. “Yeah, well…some things don’t change.” I took one more drink, loving the way the beer made my brain a little fuzzy. “What about you? I mean, other than the fact that you’re probably not an asshole, what is it I don’t know about you? What haven’t you shared with me yet?”

  “Wow, you’re starting off with the hard-hitting questions, huh? No small talk.”

  “What was it your mom used to say? Small talk is for small minds.”

  His brows lifted, and he sat back a little. Luke had obviously forgotten how much time I’d spent at their house back in school. “She still says it. Doesn’t have time for that bullshit,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, something I haven’t told you yet.” He bit his lip, an act I felt all the way between my legs. “You sure you want to hear this?”

  I couldn’t look away from his mouth. “Give it to me.”

  “Do you want serious or stupid? Because I’ve got both.”

  “Ooh, options.” I tapped my chin, looking up to the ceiling as if giving his question considerable thought. “Serious. I’m good with serious.”

  Luke shook his head and rolled his eyes a little, still smiling. Still too fucking hot for his own good. “Serious truth I don’t share… I’m terrified the brewery’s going to fail and I’ll have nothing left. No job. No money. End up having to live with my mom again.”

  “Wow.” I sat back, draining the last of my beer. “That really is serious.”

  “You should’ve picked stupid. Though I’m sort of glad you didn’t. It’s embarrassing as hell.” He winked. The man fucking winked. I might as well have died right there in the kitchen.

  “I’m totally going to want to hear that one, but first…” I leaned forward and put my hand on his, making sure I had his full attention. “You’re charming, smart, and completely committed to your business. I see it online, I hear it from people who still live here. You could never fail so long as you keep trying the way you do.” I tapped his hand and sat back, grinning. “But also, your mom makes excellent chocolate chip cookies. Living with her might not be as bad as you think.”

  Luke laughed quietly, his shoulders shaking. “That she does. And thank you. Seriously, hearing that from you means a lot.” He held my gaze, smiling softly. Looking at me as if he wanted…something I couldn’t even fathom. “Now your turn.”

  This could be dangerous. I hopped up and grabbed two more beers from the refrigerator, pulling off the caps before reclaiming my seat next to Luke. And if that seat happened to inch a little closer to him? All the better. “Serious or stupid?”

  “I can’t have both?”

  I pursed my lips in a fake scowl. “You’re greedy.”

  “When it comes to you? Always.”

  Wait…was he flirting with me? And was I…liking it?

  Yes. Totally yes. So I took a deep breath, and I said the one thing I really shouldn’t have. “I think your brother is an asshole.”

  Luke choked on his beer, his eyes going large for a moment before he
recovered. “Everyone thinks my brother’s an asshole. I just assumed you didn’t see it. Or chose not to.”

  I focused on the bottle in my hand, picking at the edges of the label. Not willing to look into his eyes. “I’m really good at schedules, you know? Order. This, then this, then that, then the next. Routines are what save my sanity. Accepting his assholeness became just another habit almost. I’m not really sure how that happened, though.” I shook my head, tearing the label off in one piece. Success.

  “That’s supposedly a sign of sexual frustration, you know.” He nodded toward the bottle when I jerked my head up.

  “Really?” I took a drink as he nodded. Funny, I’d been peeling labels for years. “Fitting.”

  Luke went silent, but he didn’t need to say anything to hold my attention. Something in his eyes, in the way he looked into mine, captivated me. He didn’t talk, didn’t move, didn’t do anything but watch me for a few long moments. Long enough that I started to get nervous when he finally leaned closer.

  “So is it true then?”

  “Is what true?”

  “Our rooms share a wall. I heard the…fight.”

  My brain tried to rewind the evening, but I was a little too tipsy. I remembered being upstairs, talking to Barry. But a fight? “I’m not following you.”

  “Has it really been six years?”

  Something stuttered to life in my memory. Something about sex. With Barry. Something I’d said about it being six years since… “Oh God, you heard that?”

  I jumped up, my face blazing hot. He’d heard that. Of all the things, of all the complaints Barry could have said that Luke would have known about me, he had to hear that one. That I was broken, prudish. Frigid.

  Luke grabbed my hand, tugging me into his space. My hips brushed his knees as he dragged me between his spread thighs until I was right up against him. Touching him. Craving him. He didn’t stop there, though. Oh, no. He looked right into my eyes as he raised a hand and brushed my hair behind my ear. So gentle. So affectionate.