Happily Ever Afters: A BWWM Best Friends to Lovers Romance Page 8

  Just like that, it was over. The bliss and the lust and the affection screeched to an inevitable halt. Juliette slid out of his lap and stood. Preston didn’t need a mirror to know his skin burned various tones of red. His ears in particular were hot to the touch out of guilt—out of embarrassment. He’d tried so hard not to be that guy. Now he’d taken advantage…

  “That was on me.” Preston cleared his throat. He glanced at Lee and Mellie to check if they’d noticed anything, but the two were locked into their own talk. He rose from the sofa and tried to catch Juliette's eye. She wouldn’t look at him, still invested in the nonexistent wrinkles of her skirt. “Do you, uh, wanna go upstairs and talk about it?”

  “I can’t. I have to check on Gigi. Why don’t you go up without me?”

  “Juliette—”

  “Don’t wait up. You’re…you’re probably tired. It’s been another long day.”

  Preston rubbed his neck, bewildered as she took her exit. He had no idea how to explain what had happened. What he knew was that kissing Juliette felt better than he imagined the two or three times he’d let his imagination go there. Her grinding in his lap, clinging to him by the neck, soft lips on his as he earned each and every moan out of her—it was indescribable.

  He wanted more. And more after that. And still more because he’d never be satisfied now that he’d tasted her lips.

  And that was a problem.

  Swallowing thickly with his hands on his waist, his eyes trained on the door as if in fruitless hope she’d somehow return. She never did, but his mind lingered on the moment between them anyway. The last effects of the sangria had him stubbornly holding onto the idea that the good outweighed the bad. Right? Because, otherwise, how could something that felt so good be so wrong?

  But it was.

  Juliette was his friend and he’d taken liberty with her at a time when he was supposed to help her. He needed to do better than blaming a couple glasses of sangria for his behavior. She deserved a full-fledged apology in the light of day by a sober tongue. The future of their friendship depended on it, and he wouldn’t let that slip through his fingers.

  “You two teenagers done sucking face?”

  Preston looked up, thoughts interrupted.

  Mellie and Lee had walked over. In their hands hour-old sangria now closer to water thanks to the melting chunks of ice. The couples trivia partners grinned knowingly at him, goading him to play along with the light ribbing. He mustered up the energy to give off a lone, forced chuckle and shake of his head.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. We get kinda carried away sometimes.”

  “Y’all really are cute,” Mellie said. “There’s no topping you.”

  Lee saw an in. “Maybe we can try. That’s why you should give me a chance.”

  “Lee! I told you. I don’t do long-distance.”

  “C’mon, we have six whole days to get to know each other.”

  “And after?”

  “We’re a flight away from each other,” Lee replied. “One date at least. And if you never wanna see me again, fine. I’ll back off.”

  Mellie sighed, smiling. “Alright. Fine. One date.”

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” said Preston, backing away. The way the two focused on each other regardless of who was around reminded him of what he had with Juliette. Exactly what he stood to lose if he failed to make amends for his misstep.

  Preston walked out of the den and through the quiet beach house for the staircase. Repeatedly in his head he created a mantra that told him above all else he needed to right things. He needed to know Juliette wouldn’t distance herself from him now. That they were okay. Their friendship would survive the temporary lapse in judgment. But as much as he focused on their friendship and what it meant to him, an undeniable truth floated to the surface.

  Later, lying next to her in bed, he would tell himself it was just pretend. In the beginning, he’d believed that. But now? The jumping beat of his heart faster than ever, he wasn’t so sure…

  8

  “What are you doing out here, Gigi?”

  Juliette found the bride-to-be curled up in the terrace’s cushiony wicker sectional. Throw blanket strewn across her lap, Gigi sat with puffy eyes on the beach’s faraway dark abyss. The rest of the beach house had quieted considerably in the last half hour. With the couple’s trivia and casual drinking over, most called it a night and headed up to bed.

  But Juliette? She fled the den in search of Giselle. She had been motivated by genuine concern for her sister. Mostly. There might have been a frazzled, more shellshocked part of her that sought out Gigi to avoid Preston. Anything to push off thinking too much about what happened between them. She blocked it out during her search, shaking her head whenever flashbacks burst before her eyes.

  Gigi shrugged, frown forlorn. It wasn’t until Juliette plopped down onto the sectional that she spotted a fork in Gigi’s limp hand and a half-eaten slice of coconut pineapple in front of her. Endeared by the random sight, a small smile snuck up on Juliette's mouth.

  “Hungry?”

  “Everything’s a mess and I can’t even fit my dress—why not eat my feelings some more?” Gigi whined, scraping the fork across the plate to collect more coconut flakes. “That whole trivia game got me heated. I couldn’t take another second. Now everybody knows me and Dom have problems.”

  “Doesn’t every couple?”

  “Not days before their wedding! I can’t even look at him right now. What’s wrong with me?”

  Juliette inhaled and hardened her tone for tough love. “Giselle,” she said sternly, “get a grip! Do you hear yourself? Yes, weddings are stressful. Yes, it’s whatever the bride wants. Yes, you have a right to be upset if your relationship is struggling. But what is crying on the terrace at midnight binging on coconut cake going to do? Do you want to know what would help things? Speaking to Dom!”

  For a hushed second, Gigi stared wide-eyed at Juliette, thrown by the sudden switch up. Like Mom and Dad, the firm approach sometimes did more damage than good. Thankfully rather than get in her feelings, Gigi gave a slow nod.

  “I know. I want to talk to him. I love him, Jules. I do. I…I think that’s why I’m so…” Gigi rattled out a labored breath. “I’m so scared. What if there is something going on? It’s gonna crush me.”

  “Gigi, you can’t avoid it forever. The sooner the better.” Juliette reached across the sectional and hugged her anxious younger sister. She held her in a squeeze in her arms, both of them clinging to each other in a sisterly moment of comfort.

  “Giselle?”

  The voice belonged to Dominic. The sister’s separated and looked toward the terrace doors. The bronzed heart surgeon stood resembling a puppy who tracked down its owner at last. He’d clearly spent the last half-hour searching the big beach house for his fiancée.

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” said Juliette, rising. She didn’t wait for their conversation to begin, but on her walk inside, Dominic joined Gigi on the sectional, grabbing her hand in his.

  A hunch told her that the two would resolve their issues. Unlike herself, Gigi introduced every boyfriend to the family. Her sister spent years searching for a bachelor who ticked the boxes on her husband material application. For the longest time, she treated the process like a business, running it admirably with clockwork precision. Dominic Brosman changed that for Gigi; she’d finally met a man who ticked the boxes for the desired fairytale ending, but who she also genuinely loved.

  Inspired by the bride and groom, Juliette braved the third floor. She evened out her breathing, lining her shoulders and walking with renewed determination. How could she chastise Gigi for running from her problems when she’d done the same? How could she beam with pride at Dom and Gigi communicating if she hid from doing the same with Preston?

  Regardless of how confusion swirled inside of her, they needed to sit down and talk. Clear the air and move on. They had maneuvered their way through issues before. Now was one of those times. Only the i
ssue happened to be one she never expected…

  Juliette opened the door and stopped short. Like Dominic, Preston hadn’t given up for the night. He sat on the edge of the bed, still dressed, in obvious wait for her to return. The sight tugged on her heartstrings. As if she needed more proof how Preston devoted himself to their friendship.

  “Hey.”

  He grinned and stood, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “Hey.”

  “We should talk.”

  “Waited up for you hoping you’d say that.”

  “Sorry I disappeared…”

  Juliette mustered up more courage, stuck near the door for the longest second. She rearranged the scrambled thoughts in her brain. Her stomach flurried with nerves. Rarely was she nervous, but addressing the kiss with Preston? It terrified her and she didn’t understand why.

  The close friends sat on the edge of the bed side-by-side. Another stretch of silence passed between them, one last opportunity to figure out what they wanted to say. Juliette went first, leveling her tone A.D.A.-style.

  “I don’t think either of us can deny we’re good actors,” she began and Preston nodded along. “Mix that in with some alcohol and the situation, we got carried away.”

  “Right. But I shouldn’t have let it get to that point. I’m here to help you and I took advantage. I’m sorry—”

  “We were both pretty…involved in that kiss.”

  Her dark brown skin flushed. Another flashback blinked in and then out, serving as a sensory reminder to the fruitful taste of sangria on Preston's warm lips. She bit down on her own at the memory alone, battling against stirring desire. God help her…

  “Yeah, but I’ve never been that guy. You know the one who pushes boundaries. We’re friends. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Preston reasoned with a hefty sigh. He stopped there, as usual struggling to express himself. Though she knew little about his past love life, what she did know was that it had been the number one detractor in his relationships. “Tell me if I do. I wanna know.”

  “Not once. Ever.” Her hand drifted into his lap, linking her fingers between his. The move was supposed to signify the unity behind their friendship, but as soon as her skin grazed his she second-guessed her decision. She shed that doubt and continued, searching for the point she wanted to make. “How about we stop worrying so much? What happened to go with the flow?”

  “Go with the flow…?”

  She shook her head.

  Preston did too, but his slipped sideways into a tilt. “I dunno, Juliette. Isn’t that how we wound up with wires crossed now? Too much gray area?”

  “That’s because we’re overthinking everything we do. Maybe we should stop and focus on enjoying ourselves. We’re on vacation.”

  “Just like that, huh? We stop thinking? Turn off our brains?”

  She smiled at him. “Why not? We never get the chance back home. We’re always swamped with work. How often do we get to relax?”

  “With each other?”

  “You’re my friend—one of my closest friends. After earlier—when I panicked and left the den—I thought that bringing you here was a mistake if it ruins our friendship.”

  “That’s the last thing I want.”

  “But why does this vacation have to ruin it?” she asked out of sincere curiosity. “You’re always going to be my friend. No matter what happens over the next few days. I don’t think anything can change that…”

  The confusion computed across Preston's face like a complex math equation in need of a solution. He processed what she said, finally giving into the concept.

  “Turn off our brains,” he repeated.

  “Turn them off,” she echoed, fingers still laced with his in his lap. “Five days. We go with the flow.”

  New understanding in place, the friends prepared for bed at more ease than ever. Juliette couldn’t deny that her proposal seemed to help. No longer was she careful around Preston, overthinking every trivial detail. Where as the night before she worried about her innate attraction at the sight of him half-naked in his boxers, tonight she smirked and allowed a greedy glance.

  Preston caught her, peeling back the covers on the bed. “Got a staring problem?”

  “Oh, please! I know you’re not trying to call me out.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Juliette paused mid-walk to the bathroom for a laugh. “Preston, I love you to pieces, but c’mon. You think I don’t notice?”

  “Notice what?”

  “You’re an ass man. I get it. But I know you look. All the time. Even if you try not to.”

  His ears reddened at once, thrown by the candor. “So that’s it? All bets really are off, huh?”

  “Mhmm, yep! If you’re going to call me out, I have a right to defend myself,” she giggled.

  “Alright, Miss Prosecutor. Since we’re on this new uncensored kick, maybe tonight can you make sure to stay on your side of the bed?” he bantered back. “You were rubbing your legs all over me last night—not that it didn’t feel amazing—but I need my sleep. And my sanity.”

  Her eyes doubled in size, mortified. “I was? Shit, Preston, sorry!”

  He answered her with a husky laugh. Whatever embarrassment, his red ears and her wide eyes, morphed into pure humor. They laughed at their own ridiculous behavior as well as each other’s. It was yet another thing for Juliette to love about her friendship with Preston; they could truly go candid and be themselves. And laugh about it.

  In bed, Juliette again with her book out and Preston admiring the ceiling, they admitted the most glaring fact of the evening.

  “It’s natural,” Juliette said, turning a page. “You’re a man. I’m a woman. We’re both attractive people. We’re going to respond to each other.”

  “I’ll try to remember that when your legs are rubbing on me.”

  Behind her reading glasses, Juliette rolled her eyes. “There’s the pillow border if it bothers you so much.”

  “Nah. You’re always welcomed on my side.” He grinned drowsily at her, lowering his lids to go to sleep. “Night.”

  “Night.”

  For a second night in a row, Juliette finished the chapter she was on before she flicked off the lights. The story wasn’t on her mind though. Instead she used the last conscious moments to appreciate Preston and their friendship. She had no doubt that sometime through the night she’d wind up on his side again. Maybe against him like a pillow or with limbs entangled.

  That was okay. Because it was Preston and they understood each other. Her level of comfort was unparalleled to any man in her past. Exactly why Preston was such a great friend. No matter whatever lines continued to blur over the next five days, they’d emerge from this vacation intact. Their friendship was too strong.

  Breakfast the next morning was a foursome affair between Preston, Juliette and her parents. The others under the Brosman roof either ate earlier or skipped breakfast. Their motive was clear as day: Mr. and Mrs. Lowry wanted to spend one-on-one time with their eldest daughter and her fiancée.

  Preston didn’t mind. After clearing the air with Juliette and another night of silky heaven brushing him, he was refreshed and revitalized. His spirits soared high, which meant he masqueraded under his impressively charming alter-ego a lot easier. If he didn’t know any better, he had Brandy about to swoon, beaming ear-to-ear whenever she looked at him. Juliette's Dad engaged him in hearty conversation, at one point sharing his morning paper with him.

  “You know, Preston, I’ve got a cabin in Virginia. I go hunting and fishing there every September,” Mr. Lowry said, fixing his spectacles onto his nose. “Maybe next time we can turn it into a whole family trip. Me and you can probably make a couple big catches.”

  “Tom, stop pressuring him into spending time with you,” Brandy scolded. “The poor guy is here to eat breakfast, not commit to some camping trip.”

  “Well, he looks like the outdoorsy type. I thought it’d be fun!”

  Preston shrugged. “Actu
ally, sir, I used to go camping all the time. That’s right up my alley.”

  Mr. Lowry's round face brightened. “See, Brandy baby, my future son-in-law wants to hang out! We’ll need to plan the nitty-gritty details. And no more sir nonsense—call me Tom!”

  Preston felt the smile before he saw it. Juliette's happy, pearly white smile that she flashed listening in on the exchange. He shared one of those infamous googly eye glances with her that everyone teased them about, and they didn’t shy away from their handholding. Brandy and Tom noticed and picked up on their vibe straightaway.

  “Love is in the air,” Brandy sang softly. “What a wonderful week this has been!”

  After breakfast, Preston and Juliette returned upstairs to dress for the beach party. Giselle and Dominic boasted about the size of the party. Since they were throwing the bash on the public beach, the attendees included anyone from the island. That was the couple’s intention. They wanted to celebrate their love and upcoming wedding with every inch of the island.

  Preston changed into swim trunks and sandals, ready for a day on the beach. He wasn’t normally a big beach guy, but the tropical paradise had that effect on him. Hours spent under the warm sun, grainy sand beneath his toes, sipping on a drink or two sounded like the perfect way to unwind. Even better with Juliette on his arm. Her presence improved any situation.

  The bathroom door opened and Juliette emerged to render him breathless mush. She wore a bikini as bright as a dandelion, the tiny yellow strips of fabric now his favorite color in the world. Topping off the sultry look, a sheer black sarong hugged her at the hips and a flower adorned her silky hair, tucked behind her left ear. She smiled at him with more than her lips; her eyes shone with a carefree light that captivated. She hoped for today to be a good one.

  As her friend, he’d do anything to be the man to make that happen.