Recovery by Nicole Dykes (best time to read books .txt) 📗

“I don’t.”

And I don’t. Not at all.

Her eyes meet mine again. “Okay, but you can. I’m sure you’re angry about what happened to Trey. I’m angry.”

My stomach twists into knots when I hear my little brother’s name. His face flashes in my memory. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” She’s adamant.

“It doesn’t,” I say firmly, wanting to end the conversation. “He’s gone. I’m gone. I don’t want to think about it or talk about it because nothing can change that.”

I see the sympathy in her eyes, and it threatens to strangle me with all the emotions swimming around inside of me. I just want to be numb. I want to be invisible. I don’t want to be standing here with an old friend who I looked up to like a big sister talking about the death of my brother.

My brother, who trusted me.

My brother, who I failed.

Fuck, today was a long day. And it looks like it’s only going to be longer when I push open the door to the loft and see it’s full of people.

I recognize a lot of them. Clients who have become friends and some regulars from the bar. I look around and don’t see Mya or Tommy, but James and Finn are here. Fuckers.

I smile when Finn walks to me, handing me a beer with the top already twisted off. “Hey, man.” He points to two chicks hanging out by the coffee table that’s been made into a makeshift bar. “I want the blond, but you can have the other one.”

I shake my head at him, bringing the beer bottle to my lips. “I’m good.”

He wraps an arm around my shoulder. “You’re decent, but with a little practice, you could be good.”

I shove him away with a laugh. “I told you, you aren’t getting into my pants.”

He chuckles at that, taking a swig from his own beer, but then his face grows slightly more serious. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I answer instantly, not wanting to leave any doubt there.

He studies me carefully. “Okay. Now, let’s party. We’ve earned it.”

My best friend is ridiculous, but he’s my best friend none the less. I go with him to at least be his wing man with the blond, even if he doesn’t really need it. And I'm having a decent time for the most part, even though I'm watching the door.

Just waiting for her to get here.

She challenged me this morning, brought up some old shit I’d rather push away and not talk about, but I still can’t wait to see her face.

I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

And then there she is, walking in with Tommy, looking fucking gorgeous as ever. She’s not smiling though, and for some reason, that bugs the shit out of me.

The blond chick is all over Finn, and her friend continuously drags her fingers over my bicep, signaling she wants more of my attention, but she isn’t getting it. I excuse myself quickly and make my way to Mya, who’s in the kitchen pouring herself some juice she bought and keeps in the fridge.

“Forgot you’re not old enough to drink.”

She puts the juice bottle back in the fridge and takes a sip from her glass, her eyes glued to mine. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t.”

“No?”

She shakes her head. “No.” She starts out of the kitchen but tosses a sultry look over her shoulder. “I’ve found better ways to calm the noise inside.”

I think I just gulped, like full-on gulped because fuck if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I've ever heard, and I’m pretty damn sure she meant it to be. She heads toward her room, and I follow, my feet carrying me as if my mind doesn’t have a choice.

She pushes her door open, and I'm glad no one has found their way in here yet. I follow her inside. She didn’t exactly extend an invitation, but she didn’t tell me to fuck off either. I close the door behind me, telling myself I just want to keep the party noise out. “And how do you calm yourself, Mya?”

Her lips pull into a sexy grin as she places her glass on the bedside table, and I sit my beer down on the dresser I'm standing next to.

“I read a lot.” There’s a flicker of mischievousness in her eyes because that’s not at all what she was implying.

“Oh, you’re fucking with me now?”

She shakes her head. She’s wearing a black blouse that hangs off both shoulders, and I don’t think there’s any way she could be wearing a bra with that top. My mouth waters, wanting to drag my tongue over every inch of her beautiful silky skin, but I don’t move.

“I’m not fucking with you. I love to read.”

“I like the way you say fucking,” I say as I stalk toward her. Today was shit, and I've only known this chick for a week, but I missed her today.

“And yet, you won’t do the actual act of fucking.”

My throat dries. I like her blunt like this. “So, you’re saying you want me to fuck you?”

She bites on her bottom lip, and I fight a groan. She’s so fucking sexy without even having to try. “I think I implied that last night.”

I take another step closer. “I want to hear you say it.”

She sits up straight, her gaze boring into me with those big brown eyes. “I want you to fuck me.”

Jesus.

“We’re roommates,” I say, taking another step closer.

She nods. “We are, but not for long.”

“You okay?” I have to ask. She looked fucking sad when she entered the loft, and we didn’t leave things great this morning.

“I’m okay.” She shrugs out of her shirt, revealing that she, in fact, isn’t wearing a bra. And I don’t think I can form words when I see her perky tits, bare and waiting for me. “I’m taking your advice and getting to know my roommates better.”

“Well, fuck.” I lift my shirt over my head, and I like the way her eyes