Here’s a scene from Can’t Let You Go, a standalone new adult romance and book three of The Wheeler Brothers.
JEN
“Ready to eat?” I ask as I unload the food from the sacks.
Bryce comes up behind me and opens the cupboard above my head and takes out two plates. He’s over here enough to know where everything is. He grabs some glasses and sets them on the counter beside me. I yank open the drawer in front of me to grab some forks and back right into Bryce. I didn’t know he was still behind me. I freeze because my ass is now right up against him.
“You okay?” he asks, his arm going around my waist, keeping me held against his body.
“Yeah. Sorry,” I say sounding breathless. “I didn’t realize you were still there.”
Instead of moving, he reaches around me and takes two forks from the drawer. “Anything else we need?”
“Um, no. Just the drinks.” I shut the drawer and turn around to face him.
He still hasn’t moved, and now he’s staring at me with those gorgeous blue eyes of his.
“Did you need something?” I ask.
“I just wanted to say thanks. For letting me come over.”
“What are you talking about?” I let out a laugh. “You know you can come over here anytime.”
“But I shouldn’t.” He looks down. “I shouldn’t just drop in like this.”
Why is he acting this way? It’s like he’s pulling even farther away from me. We always drop in to see each other. We call first, but it’s not like we give each other much notice. We don’t have to. We’re friends, and friends drop in to see each other. So why is he acting like we shouldn’t be doing that anymore?
Does he have a girlfriend he didn’t tell me about? Is she banning him from seeing me? Or is it something else? Is he trying to end this? End our friendship? God, I hope not.
BRYCE
Jen’s hurt, and confused. I can see it in her face. She doesn’t understand why I said that just now. But she should. She should know it’s time to move on. I shouldn’t be stopping over like this or calling late at night. We shouldn’t even be friends anymore. Our friendship should’ve ended after high school. If it had, she wouldn’t have gone to college here and been stuck dealing with her mom the past four years. I screwed up her life but I’m not going to keep doing it.
And yet I haven’t stepped away from her. She’s still backed against the counter, my body blocking her in. I want to move closer, press myself against her, and lower my mouth over her slighted parted lips. And then kiss her. Kiss her like I’ve wanted to for four freakin’ years.
“We should eat,” I say, forcing myself to snap out of it. She’s not mine. She never will be.