Angela Hartley opened the door to her sparsely-decorated apartment. Shuffling inside, she limped tiredly over to the living room and flopped down on the brown leather sofa.
Sighing contentedly she removed the strappy black sandals that had tortured her poor feet for the past six hours. Leaning back into the supple leather she allowed her body precious moments of peace.
Today was a good day. A long one, no doubt but still good. She watched her baby sister and second best friend pledge her love and loyalty to a man who was just as equally in love with her as she was with him.
Seeing Dex and Roxie up there at the altar, their eyes bright with unshed tears and so full of love gave Angie an indescribable pang.
True, she was going to miss her sister, who after their honeymoon in Australia was planning to move to L.A. to begin her new life with her movie star husband.
It was something more that made her hurt.
Loneliness.
Angie sighed and tried not to focus on the shambles of her love life. It was no use trying to deny her thoughts. She hadn't had a date in almost a year. Hell, it had been so long since actual male contact she almost forgot what it felt like. She smiled at that thought and remembered her vibrator in her nightstand drawer. It was her only source of comfort at the moment.
She groaned loudly when she heard her cell phone ringing, jarring her out of thoughts centering on her impending battery-operated release.
"Hello," she asked tersely.
"Damn girl. Answer the phone like that and a man thinks he was interrupting something." The man chuckled. "I wasn't interrupting anything was I?"
Angie smiled through her irritation. "And what did you think was going on, Gavin?"
"Oh, I don't know. I figured you'd shack up with one of Mr. Movie Star's hot metrosexual actor friends. I didn't want to interrupt any kinkiness."
It was Angie's turn to chuckle. "Connor that's ridiculous."
"Not really. You are quite the regulation hottie."
"Thanks Conny. But you know the only person I wanna get kinky with is you."
"Ooh, dirty talk. What exactly do you have in mind you vixen you?"
"You, me, a little wine, and a foot massage for your bestest friend?"
"Now, how can a man resist such a tempting offer? Make it a couple of beers and you've got a deal."
"Sweet. Haha, beer. You're so classy, Gavin."
"What can I say, Hellcat. I'm a simple man who likes simple things. I like my beer cold and my woman hot and waiting on the couch for me."
A knock at her door made Angie sit up. She smiled. "Connor Gavin are you already here?"
She heard his deep laugh through the phone and door. "Well, I knew you'd be bothering me for something so I figured why waste time?"
"Good boy, you're learning quickly."
Limping over to the door, she unlocked it quickly and was greeted by the handsome face of her best friend Connor Gavin.
He was still dressed in his tux from the wedding, his jacket thrown casually over his arm, the buttons of his dress shirt undone. He looked disheveled and utterly adorable. She took a second to admire him. He looked like the quintessential All-American boy: 6'3, broad shoulders, well-muscled hunk of a man with a very hot Northeast accent.
All that training at the firehouse toned and shaped his body. His tousled reddish-brown hair was set in rogue-ish curls atop his head. His blue eyes always sparkled like he had a private running joke with himself that he wasn't about to share.
All in all, Connor Gavin was fine as hell. But she damn well wasn't about to admit that to him.
Angie smiled at him. "Thanks for coming over Conny. My feet will love you."
"No problem. Now, back to the couch and I'll get the beers."
Connor watched her walk back to the living room before he moved to the kitchen.
Once there, he felt his heartbeat slow down. Jesus, he thought. Even to this day she still had that effect on him.
Tossing his jacket over a chair next to the kitchen table he steadied himself. Being around Angie had never been this hard. It seemed like every thing she did, or the way she looked at him would be enough to set him off. His heart would speed up and his mouth felt dry.
Connor always felt there was something more between them. It was deeper than friendship. But, was it enough to erase nearly twenty years of history. He wasn't sure he was ready for the dynamic of the relationship to change just yet although truth be told, he knew that what he felt for her was just as strong as it was that night before she left for college.
Every night since then he felt that kiss on his lips, haunting his thoughts. And every morning he'd wake up too coward to admit his feelings. Hell, he didn't even know if she felt the same way.
Grabbing two of the Killian's Irish Red from the fridge, he headed back to the living room. Angie had put in a DVD. Connor smiled. It was Grandma's Boy, a recent entry in their collection of favorites.
"Ange, I didn't know you liked Killian's," he remarked, opening the bottle and handing it to her.
She took a generous swig. "I don't mind it. But I know you love it, and since you're always over here I guess I can do something nice for you."
"Well thanks, doll." Sitting down at the opposite end of the couch, he motioned for her to put her feet up, gasping a little when her slim legs brushed against his mild arousal.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Connor recovered quickly as she settled her legs across his lap. "I'm fine." Looking down at her feet, he smiled. She definitely took care of herself. Her feet were well manicured and soft to the touch. "I'm just glad your feet aren't covered with corns and haggard-looking. That would have been a bit awkward."
Angie smacked his arm. "Shut up, fool. I take good care of myself."
Connor smiled and took her petite foot into his hands. Angie sighed and settled back into the couch. She loved having him take care of her. His hands were strong and firm, the skin slightly roughened from his hard work.
When he gently pressed his thumb into the arch of her sore foot, Angie couldn't help but moan. It had been such a long time since she felt a man's touch, even if it was Connor.
He heard the moan and glanced over at her. She was sprawled on the couch in a state of utter relaxation. Her rich earthen-colored skin blended into the deep mahogany of the leather. Her hair was in its normal state, sticking up all over. Connor grinned. The hair matched the owner. Smooth and silky but damned hard to control.
Connor resisted the urge to slide his hand up farther. Her legs were slightly opened, her black cocktail dress hiked up a little, giving him a glorious view of her brown thighs. He imagined his hand snaking up slowly to the bounteous apex but immediately shook his head clear.
