“Is that a euphemism?” he asked with that indelible smirk.

  “Maybe it is.”

  “Then I would love to eat pizza.” He stepped close enough that I could smell his aftershave and had to stop myself from breathing him in. “If you’d like me to go with you to eat pizza.”

  We were actually doing this.

  I nodded. “Yes,” I breathed, sealing our fate in the winter breeze.

  Jordan Wright was my friend…with benefits.

  11

  Annie

  Capital Pizza was The Tacos’ after-game celebration locale. Mostly because it was the only place still open this late at night. Consequently, the place was packed, and it took a solid thirty-minute wait to get a table big enough to seat nine.

  I took a seat next to Jordan and Blaire and across from Julian, Hollin, and Ashleigh. Blaire’s roommate, Piper, sat on her other side with her twin brother, Peter, and Peter’s boyfriend, Jeremy, taking the end of the table. I’d never been as close to Piper as Blaire because of the soccer team, but I admired that she was a strong woman, running Sinclair Cellars. While it used to run in the Sinclair family, their grandfather had left it to the Medinas, but they’d kept the reputable name. And that was as much as I knew about the wine business in this town.

  Once we were seated, we agreed to order a half-dozen pizzas to sate the giant dudes at our table. While everyone else was arguing over what toppings to put on, my gaze drifted to Jordan. He was dressed down in jeans and a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

  “What do you prefer?” I asked him.

  “Honestly shouldn’t eat any,” he said with a shrug. “I have five miles to run in the morning.”

  “Oh, come on. I feel like I just ran five miles, and I’m having some.”

  “Pepperoni,” he said with a shrug. “Do you still run? Outside of soccer?”

  I frowned. Maverick running next to me at our Fourth of July marathon. Him collapsing. The screams that had ripped out of my mouth when I realized he wasn’t moving. The fastest final three miles I’d run in my life as I rushed to get Sutton once the paramedics took him away.

  I shivered.

  “Sometimes,” I said softly. “It’s hard to find time.”

  “I know. I’m usually up at five or six a.m., and if I have to be in the office early, then I’m running in the middle of the night.”

  “I used to have a schedule like that,” I said. I missed it, if I was honest. But then the memory of Maverick falling down hit me hard again, and I remembered why I’d never taken it back up with such vigor.

  “You’re opening a winery?” a voice asked at the other end of the table.

  Both Jordan and I turned to see Piper’s look of disbelief and Hollin’s shit-eating grin.

  “Yeah, baby, I’m opening a winery,” Hollin said.

  Piper narrowed her dark eyes. “What do you know about running a winery?”

  “Everything,” he spat back. “I worked at West Texas Winery for years.”

  Piper snorted. “You managed a bar. That’s not the same thing.”

  “If you’re so afraid of the competition, just say so, Pipes,” Hollin said, leaning forward.

  “Don’t call me Pipes,” she growled.

  Blaire sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “I did ask you both to try to be nice to each other.”

  This was normal behavior for Piper and Hollin. I had no idea what had transpired to make them hate each other so much, besides Hollin’s smug face, but it was constantly like a bomb had gone off in each other’s presence. Right this minute, they looked ready to reach across the table and rip out each other’s throats.

  “You know my fondness for Sinclair Cellars,” Ashleigh said conversationally, her voice nasally and grating. “But Julian is going to be investing and working at Wright Vineyard, too.” She patted her boyfriend on the arm. “It’s going to be great.”

  Piper looked over at Julian. “You let him con you into this?”

  Julian laughed with that soft charism that he had to defuse a situation. “There was no conning. Wright Vineyard is going to be a new winery on the market.”

  I was so deeply invested in their conversation, listening to their quips back and forth, that I barely registered that Jordan had leaned in closer to me. Not until his hand landed on my thigh under the table. My eyes widened for a second as his fingers slipped lazily under the hem of my soccer shorts, brushing against my sensitive skin.

  My eyes tipped back to his, and he arched an eyebrow as if to say, What?

  No one else was paying attention. No one else could see his hand drifting ever further up my leg, a leisurely pace northward.

  I swallowed hard and then reached for my water as my body heated under his rather public touches. I should have stopped him. We’d agreed that we weren’t going to have a relationship. But did friends with benefits do this? I didn’t know where the line was. And letting him touch me in public felt like crossing it.

  Yet…I didn’t mind.

  Fuck.

  His finger reached the apex of my thighs, dragging down my center. I forced down a shiver. I didn’t want anyone to notice what the hell was happening. I didn’t even know what to think about it. Besides not wanting it to stop and not knowing if that was the right reaction.

  Double fuck.

  He hit my clit, and I couldn’t stop myself from jumping. Blaire glanced back over to me, and Jordan retreated.

  “Cold?” she asked, offering me her Italian rose-embroidered jean jacket. It had to have cost a fortune. I knew she’d gotten it for free, like most of her stuff.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, draping it over my shoulders.

  I shot Jordan a warning look, but he was a mask of innocence.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Don’t what me.”

  He leaned forward so that only I could hear him. “Then tell me to stop.”

  But I wasn’t going to do that. So, I settled on glaring at him. He smiled wider and started his ascent back up my legs. His fingers crested my clit faster this time. Our eyes still locked. It took everything in me not to close my eyes and give in to this. My body superheating under the table, in front of everyone. And no one else knew what was happening.

  He tipped his head, as if to tell me to look away. I swallowed, scooted forward in my seat, and tried to engage in the conversation. But I couldn’t hear any of the argument that was taking place between Piper and Hollin. Blaire and Julian trying to play mediators.

  I just felt Jordan slowly working me to climax while he casually drank from his beer, as if nothing at all was happening.

  My breath hitched as I came so close to hitting that point that I nearly tipped over my drink. Jordan pulled back then when all eyes came back to me. I shot them a weak smile and was glad that pizza appeared then to distract everyone again.

  After two pieces of pepperoni pizza and an entire glass of water, I was coming down from my high. I could still feel the tingling between my legs and the wetness coating my panties.

  “Hey, I can drive you home,” Jordan offered offhand as soon as he finished his pizza. “I know you said that you had to do some studying tonight.”

  “I…do,” I agreed. “That’d be great. Thanks.” I handed Blaire her jacket back. “Jordan’s going to give me a ride home.”

  Blaire smiled wide, unassuming, unlike Julian and Hollin on the other side of the table. “No problem.”

  Jordan and I both handed over cash for the pizza. I was glad that I had some on me because I didn’t want to be there another minute.

  We walked at a normal pace to his car, but as soon as we were inside, the door closed behind us, he grabbed me from across the car, crushing our lips together. I moaned, the heat that had built between my legs not completely extinguished.

  “Fuck, I want you,” he ground out.

  “I noticed that,” I gasped.

  His dark eyes gleamed. “Oh, you liked that?”

  “Almost spilled my drink everywhere as I fought not to come.”

  “Mmm,” he groaned. “I like that. Can I make you come now?”

  He didn’t wait for my response before his hand slipped under my shorts and slicking through my wetness.

  “Fuck, Annie. You’re so wet.”

  My body pulsed at his words. Our lips still pressed together. His hand working my clit in ways that I wasn’t entirely sure were possible in his car while I was wearing all of my clothes. But the tension in the pizza parlor coupled with the very public groping had me exploding in mere minutes.

  I barely came down before he had the car out of the parking lot and was driving south. Away from my house. I would have fucked him in the backseat of his car at this point, but his house was good enough for me. I didn’t even complain that I didn’t have time. Because I wanted this—this effortless, sexy, easy thing between us.

  No commitments. No strings. No questions. Just friends…and great fucking sex.

  12

  Annie

  School blew in like the first snowstorm of the year. First, a joyous run through the blinding white flakes, catching them on your tongue, and crafting snow angels and snowmen out of the winter wonderland. And then, inevitably, a hard freezing blizzard that crushed your soul and made you forget that brief moment of happiness.

  I was past the blizzard and onto the dirty slush as my feet tromped through what had once been an idyllic beauty.

  This rotation was with radiology. Next was anesthesia. I was really not looking forward to either, but I knew that I needed both to become the kind of emergency medicine doctor that I’d always dreamed of. I’d done two monthlong rotations in emergency medicine, and I was working on getting a broader base of knowledge with my electives. Especially after spending months on the other core fields on medicine. I hadn’t minded family medicine, which Cézanne was specializing in despite everyone wanting to push her into surgery, but pediatrics had been my least favorite. As an ER doctor, I knew that I’d have to deal with sick kids, but I hated seeing them. It was too hard not to imagine Aly or Madison or Jason all day. That had been the hardest rotation by far last semester.

  I shuddered, thinking about it, as I pushed out of the hospital and toward my car. I blinked up at the dark sky overhead. Was it really that late?

  I checked my phone to see that it was already six o’clock, but the damn winter made it seem so much later. Thanks, daylight saving time.

  The other benefit of checking my phone was that I had a message from Jordan.

  Any interest in trying the whites tonight?

  A smile touched my features before exhaustion won out. As much as I’d love to do that, I couldn’t. I needed sustenance and then to study for boards. No wine for me tonight.

  I didn’t have the energy to respond. So, I dialed his number as I got into my car.

  “Hey there,” he said.

  I could hear typing on the other end of the line. As if he was still working. Maybe he was still at Wright Construction. He really did work as much as I did.

  “Hey. I can’t do wine tonight. I have to study.”

  “All right. You could study at my house.”

  I put him on speaker as I headed out of the hospital deck. “All my stuff is at my house, and I need to eat something. I only had time for a protein bar for lunch, and now, my stomach is eating itself.”

  “I could pick up Chinese on my way home and meet you there. There’s that new place out by my house that has the best lo mein. You like lo mein?”

  “Everyone likes lo mein,” I said with a laugh.

  “Okay. Let me know what you like, and I’ll put in an order.”

  “Jordan, I can’t,” I muttered.

  Wasn’t this the point of friends with benefits? That both of us were too busy for a relationship. Didn’t it seem like a relationship to have him pick up dinner for me on his way home?

  “It’s just studying, Annie. Your house is still a disaster. Not exactly conducive to getting anything done. And I have plenty of work to keep me occupied all night. I won’t be in your way.”

  “It sounds like a date,” I told him.

  He paused as if he, too, knew that it sounded like a date. But he only hesitated a moment. The businessman in him had prepared for my dissent. “I used to pick up Chinese for my friend Cush while he was going through medical school in Vancouver. I know how grueling it is, Annie. This is what friends do.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip as I pulled into my driveway. My house was a wreck. I’d had trouble already, trying to get work done when contractors kept coming by to get measurements and the landlord was about to rip out all of the hardwood due to the water damage. Plus, Chinese did sound pretty amazing.

  A lingering part of me said that I should be mad at Jordan. The last three years had been rocky between us at best, openly hostile at worst. It was strange to want to ditch my own house for his mansion and peace and quiet. I wasn’t even thinking about the sex. Okay, maybe just a little.

  But giving in felt like an admission. Maybe just staying home was the right idea.

  “Nah, I’ll pass. Thanks for the offer though.”

  “All right,” he said, carefully masking what sounded like disappointment. “I’m about to leave the office. Text me if you change your mind.”

  I hung up and stepped into my own house. I’d made the right decision. I was sure of it. We weren’t dating. I wasn’t going to go over to his house for no reason. After I’d slept over twice this weekend.

  A yawn broke free as I pushed into the living room. Sleep always got harder once the semester started.

  Last semester, I’d taken much of November and December off from rotations for all of my interviews. It was a whirlwind of residency programs. I didn’t get to see much of any one city, except the cab ride from the airport and the inside of the hospitals, which all looked the same. I’d lost more sleep from interviewing than from rotations, and I still hadn’t caught up. Even with a few weeks ostensibly off.

  Jennifer was editing images on the small breakfast nook table, which was cluttered with her equipment. I frowned. Definitely no space for me to get to work. Fuck.

  “Hey, Jen,” I said. “How’s editing?”

  “The grueling part of the job,” she said as she clicked incessantly in Photoshop.

  “Are you even halfway through last weekend’s wedding?”

  She shook her head. “Nope,” she said and then glanced up at me with a smile. The top half of her blonde bob was in a bun, and her hazel eyes glittered with excitement. This was the Jennifer that I adored. Completely unassuming, full of joy, and confident in her abilities. But when she stepped out of her circle of confidence in photography was when she fell apart. She’d had anxiety her entire life, and while it was managed, she still slipped when she got into uncomfortable situations. Like…Julian Wright.

  “But it’s okay. I had the most beautiful bride, and Evan was second shooter. So, we had a great time.”

  I smiled inwardly. She didn’t realize that her second shooter, Evan, was totally into her. Not that I intended to point it out.

  “I’m glad you did,” I said as I retreated to my room.

  My body sagged when I looked at my once-beautiful room and the mess it was now. The warped boards, the damage to the baseboards, the empty closet, a few Amazon boxes scattered around the room. I’d had to order new shoes for my upcoming interviews, and I might have gone overboard. As with everything. Suddenly, it all felt like too much. There was no way that I was going to get any work done.

  I slung my backpack down on the bed and thought about screaming.

  One bad day, and I’d had to suffer the consequences for months. I opted for a quick shower, towel-drying my messy red hair and pulling it up into a neat ponytail. Then I started packing a bag.

  I wasn’t sure when I’d decided to go to Jordan’s, but suddenly, I was on his doorstep with a change of clothes and my backpack. I rang the doorbell.

  Jordan appeared a minute later, opening the door cautiously. He was still in his suit. He must have just gotten home. Considering it was an hour later than when we’d talked, he must have stayed even later at work after I declined.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Annie.” He slipped the door open wider. “Come in.”

  “I should have texted,” I said automatically, twirling the claddagh ring around my finger.

  “You’re in luck. I ordered enough Chinese for a family of four. There was a special.”

  I laughed softly, staring around at his mansion and marveling that someone with that much money still appreciated specials. “Sesame chicken?” I asked hopefully.

  “That’s my favorite,” he said, shutting the door. “So definitely.”

  I exhaled softly. “Well, great. I like Mongolian beef, too.”

  “Also included in my family pack,” he said, following me into the kitchen.

  “Jesus,” I whispered.

  A dozen little white Chinese boxes were spread out like a feast. He hadn’t been kidding about enough for a family of four.

  “Pick your poison,” he offered.

  After loading up a plate with sesame chicken, Mongolian beef, lo mein, fried rice, and two egg rolls, I retreated to the enormous dining room table. My eyes widened with relief. Nothing like the tiny space I’d been using the last three years. I could probably fit all of my notes here.

  I set my plate down and dug out my computer, books, and notes. Jordan ate silently across from me, scrolling leisurely on his iPad.

  “What are you working on?” I asked him after downing half of my plate in a feverish haze of hunger.

  “Soccer complex,” he muttered, not taking his eyes from the screen.

  My heart skipped. Isaac had told me about this, but it had slipped my mind. Wright Construction had gotten the contract to build an outdoor stadium for a new soccer team coming to Lubbock. It was our first professional sports team, and everyone was pretty excited. My brother was especially excited to be the on-ground project manager.

  “What do you have to do for that?”