Paige

PAIGE

Henry hovers close when I spin in place. The smell of him surrounds me, spicy and mostly him. Whatever cologne he usually wears has long worn off. I meet his stare. Come on, do something about all of this tension swimming around us.

Show me how much you regret running away. How much you're just as hung up on that night as I am. Show me I'm not the only one still harboring a crush. Or whatever the equivalent is for you.

His gaze drops to my mouth and anticipation flushes my skin—makes me warm.

But he doesn't move. Doesn't advance. The crinkle between his brows is all I need. I'm that eighteen-year-old loser again at the guilt written all over his face.

He's such a coward. Fine. This isn't new.

Letting him off the hook, I duck into the car, heart giving a hard thump when I'm met with Jake Young sitting in the far seat with his tablet in his lap and an electronic pencil poised over it. He looks up at me from under long, blonde lashes.

Oh, shit.

It makes me pause for a microsecond before I shuffle in and across from him, my back to the driver behind the dark glass.

The seats are a plush leather, comfortable and warm given the weather. I'll bet anything there's a minibar in here somewhere. Drinks and snacks. It's just so polished and posh. So private. Intimate.

I keep my feet tucked to not invade their space, but Jake's long legs sprawl nearby. There's enough room for it.

Henry slides in beside Jake and closes the door, unbuttoning his jacket and setting his briefcase with mine on the floor. They exchange a look before Jake takes me in. I know I've tucked myself all prim and proper, but my instincts shift to self-preservation.

His gaze darkens when he examines my face, and heat pools in my middle. Henry shifts, pulling my attention, and he's giving me the same scrutiny. A literal ache between my thighs craves for one of them to touch me.

Then, the car lurches into motion, and my stomach drops.

I close my eyes, forcing myself to relax back and breathe through it. That initial heat builds uncomfortably, sweat gathering at the nape of my neck. So, new fun fact. I get carsick when I'm facing the wrong way. Apparently.

Swallowing past a lump in my throat, I whisper, "Does your driver know where to take me?"

"He does." Henry's low rumble makes me want to peek at him, but my body is swaying too much. Every muscle has turned to jelly, and all I can do is press my hands together over my stomach.

I grunt my acknowledgment.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Jake mutters under his breath, and he reaches forward, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me between them. My stomach rolls as I'm pressed against them both, but the worst of it tapers off now that I'm facing the right direction.

Jake's arm is pinned behind me, his hand still cups me just below my ribs. I'm half on both of their laps, and when I try to shift, Jake's grip tightens. "Relax."

I want to bristle at that. I hate it when people tell me to relax, but I get it. It's the only way to get my body under control. Nodding, I focus on my breath instead of the energy thrumming into me from these two men.

My right knee hangs over Henry's, and I have déjà vu to that night we shared, especially when his hand gives it a squeeze and rests there. God, I'm threatening to overheat again but for an entirely new reason.

"Better?" Jake asks in my ear. His voice is low and seductive, almost breathy as his fingers convulse.

"Yes, sir." My words are soft enough that I can hear his inhalation as much as I can feel his chest expand.

I suppress a shiver when that sigh fans over my exposed neck. God, I knew the teasing did more than make him bristle. Jake is tightly wound and highly controlled. Dominant. Although, I'm not sure how much.

And I swear, he nuzzles behind my ear before he retreats. My panties are goners. Thank God for my jacket because my nipples tightened painfully at the mere thought of being trapped between these two with much less on.

Nope. Old crushes seem to go the distance for me. The ones I had on these two are very much still intact. Worse even. If either of them makes a move right now, I will be way too receptive.

Shaking my head, I close my eyes against the overwhelming feeling. Their masculine scents mingling with the car's leather. So many spots of heat from points of contact. The thrumming of the car that's almost a vibration inside me. Every daydream I've had of these two over the last decade spinning through my thoughts.

I must still be sick to my stomach. That's the only explanation for the new wave of dizziness washing through me.

"Only a few more minutes," Henry rumbles. His thumb draws small circles across the inside of my knee.

I bite back a moan and nod. I can make it.

I can.

Neither of them makes it easy. They don't even have to do anything.

Fuck, I hate feeling out of my depth. The problem with this is that I tend to do stupid things when I'm out of my depth.

Relief drops what small guard I was able to put up, but it takes a moment for the door to open. Cold air wafts in, kissing my hot cheeks.

Henry's hand squeezes my knee again before he slides out. Before I can force my legs into motion, he bends down and reaches back in for me, pulling me out much like Jake had relocated me earlier.

I barely resist batting his touch away because my knees are still weak and my footing wobbly.

"I've got you."

I grunt, smashed into his chest as if I can't stand. Which I really can't. "Don't say things you don't mean."

Henry's gaze snaps to mine, unreadable but primal. After a heartbeat, he leans toward the car again without letting an inch of me go. "Grab her briefcase."

We take two shaky steps to the side, and all I want to do is lean back against the car, but Henry's grip won't let me.

Jake emerges with my briefcase in hand. He peers at me, then up at my building. "We'll escort you up."

"I don't need?—"

"You can hardly stand. We'll escort you up." Mmm , I like that authoritative tone, especially when his pupils are blown like that. Especially when he's looking at me.

I nod. It's all I can manage.

"Ready?" Henry draws my attention back to him.

"I will be once you let my feet find purchase." That earns me a half smile, and Henry releases me enough that I have somewhat stable footing. His arm braces under mine, and Jake's appears under the other. "I have to admit. I feel a bit like Dorothy right now."

Hanging on the Cowardly Lion and the Tin Man. Dad would get a hoot out of that if he wouldn't be stark raving mad about me referring to his friends that way. My bosses.

That's enough to allow the chill from the mist and wind to finally penetrate. I shiver, and that prompts the two of them to usher me forward and out of the weather. The lobby of my apartment building isn't grand, but it does have character with its warm tile flooring in red, orange, blue, and cream, matching red walls and copper mailboxes. The squat set of chairs by the front windows make for a great reading spot in the mornings.

Not that I've ever sat there. Being a single mother and all. But in another life, I'd be more than happy to curl up in just this spot with a book.

We hover by the stairs, and I nod to them. "Third floor."

The first couple of steps are awkward until I get used to being practically carried up the first flight of stairs. By the second flight, I have a bit more control, the blood pumping back in the appropriate places.

Once we make it to my floor, I'm pulling free of their grasp. "Alright, boys, I think I've got myself now."

Still, they follow me down the hall and around the corner to my apartment: 307. When I pause by my door and reach for my briefcase, Henry is examining my door like he can see through it.

Jake's fingers brush mine, and the same curiosity brightens his green eyes.

"Stop lingering. I've made it. Shoo."

"Shoo?" Henry's brow lifts.

Extracting my keys, I cross my arms. "Boundaries. I think we've smeared the lines quite enough for one night."

Nostrils flaring, Jake stares at my mouth for a few long seconds. Henry clears his throat and nods.

"Thank you for the ride home." I purposefully wait until they're moving down the hall before I slide my key in the lock. When they're at the corner, my son squeals inside.

I slip inside quickly, and his high-pitched giggle is the perfect welcome home.