Page 22 of Baby, It’s Hotter Inside

"You hated Brock last year."

She waves her hand. "Hate is such a strong word."

I roll my eyes. "A word you used about him."

She waves a hand dismissively. The determined gleam in her gaze tells me she’s not going to drop this. "Here's what I think you should do. The next time you see this guy, I think you should go for it. Tell him you want him. Kiss him. Ask him out. Whatever. Just don't wait silently. What if he's waiting for you to make the first move?"

I snort. "That is doubtful."

I'm saved from saying anything else because my doorbell rings.

I nearly laugh when I open the door, because it's like he heard us talking about him. There he is, the object of my unrequited lust.

Kris Starr. The hottest guy I’ve ever met in person. The guy I’ve wanted since high school.

I haven’t seen him in over a year. He’s still tall and impossibly broad, just a massive slab of masculine muscles. Gah, my heart is pounding and he hasn’t even spoken. I don’t know how it’s possible. I really don’t. But somehow he’s even hotter than he was last time I saw him.

It must be the heavy scowl he’s wearing like a shield. It’s a non-verbal ‘fuck-off’ and for whatever insane reason it is working for me. Big time. I suppress a shudder and meet his gaze.

It’s a dangerous place to look. Almost as dangerous as his full mouth and chiseled jaw that make me want to attack him with kisses. But I hold my ground and repress my urges to act like a horny stalker and just stare into his blue-green eyes.

"Hey Annie, is my sister here?"

Right. His sister. Because the object of my lust is my best friend’s older brother.

"She's right this way."

Fuck my life.

chapter thirteen

Kris

For the first time in years I'm home for Thanksgiving. The last seven I've spent in a chow hall eating mass produced turkey dinners. A few of those I got to video chat with my family. But this year, I'm home.

This year and every year that will follow, because I'm done. No longer on active duty. No longer fit for duty is what the truth is. Because I have PTSD, that comes with panic attacks that seem to occur in the least opportune moments.

I'd say I’ve been there, done that, and got the t-shirt, but mostly I just have the scars.

Some of them on the outside. Most not.

None of the scars help me fit in now that I’m back in civilian life. Nevertheless, my mother sent me to my sister's best friend's house on an errand. Ostensibly because they're using her ovens, but I know it’s because my mom thinks I should ‘Get out more.’

When Annie answers the door, I blurt, "My mom sent me with these pies."

She leans in to hug me because yeah, we do that. I hold the containers with the pies out with one hand while I wrap my other arm around her. The last time I hugged her, she’d been younger. Too young.

I’d latched that notion to force myself not to notice her soft curves. Today, I’m unprepared and can’t do that as her full breasts press against my chest and I suppress a groan. I inhale the sweet and spicy scent of her, like the tea she always drinks, I suddenly remember.

Annie has been Ginger's best friend since they were kids. I've known her since she was a kid. But she looks decidedly un-kid like at the moment. Those jeans are hugging her ass and, shit, I really need to get laid. I cannot fantasize about my sister's best friend.

She’s not just my sister’s best friend. She’s practically part of the family. Everyone in my family adores her. I’ll get voted off the island if I so much as touch her.

But seriously, when did Annie get all curvy and delicious?

Her black hair is pulled into a high ponytail that just leaves her neck exposed and all I can see is this expanse of golden skin. I follow her into the kitchen where I find my sister standing behind a big island.

I do my best to focus on the pies and my sister and not the other woman. The one who's turned to face me to grab a pie out of my hand. She's got a t-shirt on with a picture of a camera and it says, "I'm about to snap!" It's grey and frankly not even that cute of a shirt, but the way the words are hugging her tits is making my mouth dry.