Spring Fever (Dating Season Book 5)

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Paige Press

  Also by Laurelin Paige

  Also by Kayti McGee

  About Laurelin Paige

  About Kayti McGee

  Copyright © 2021 by Laurelin Paige & Kayti McGee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Paige Press, LLC

  Leander, Texas

  ISBN: 978-1-953520-64-7

  Content Editing: Paula Dawn at Lilypad Lit

  CopyEditing: Erica Russikoff at Erica Edits

  Proofing: Michele Ficht, Kimberly Ruiz

  Cover: Laurelin Paige

  One

  Valentine’s Day is meant to celebrate love, not end it. Somehow, I managed to get through the ending I needed, only to discover this? Austin’s announcement that he and Lucy broke up rides a merry-go-round in my head, whirling endlessly, making me dizzy.

  I’m having a Princess Bride moment. When people say they’re shocked, I don’t think it means what they think it means. What’s happening to my body isn’t your ordinary surprise pumped up a notch or two. I’m talking about true immobilization of limbs and brain function.

  Timing is everything, and sadly, Dawn has none. “Chloeeeeee, wait for meeee,” she slurs, rushing toward me in the parking lot where I stand, slack-jawed, staring at Austin. “Could you give me a ride home?” She teeter-totters to a stop, unaware she’s preventing me from asking Austin why Lucy ended things.

  “If it’s too much trouble…I’ll just sleep here.” She waves her hand vaguely at the parking lot.

  “No, no,” I pull myself together and say. “Of course it’s not too much trouble.” And I’d do it even if it were. I almost killed a man once, and that’s the sort of thing that haunts you. Leaving Dawn in a parking lot in February would definitely be tantamount to murder.

  “Thank you. Where’s your hawt drummer?” She turns to Austin before I can answer. “Your girlfriend caught the bouquet. Aw. Invite me to your wedding.”

  Technically, Lucy stole it, but that’s not important. What’s important is Austin’s strained smile is painful to see.

  “She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” he says. “We broke up.”

  Dawn gasps. “Oh gosh. How awkward. I’m so sorry,” she says, disappointing me when instead of asking what happened, she launches into a rambling story about how if she’d only worn different heels, maybe she’d have caught the bouquet. “Of course, maybe catching it is a bad thing? Phew, glad I didn’t catch it. Not that I have a boyfriend, but if I did, we might not be together anymore. And then I’d be sad.” She scrapes her red nails down the lapel of his tux, nearly causing me to rethink leaving her in the lot. “Are you sad?”

  “I’m good,” he says.

  “You are,” she says. “I can tell. Speaking of telling, don’t tell Charlotte I had too much to drink.”

  After we pinky swear, Austin is a gracious gentleman at foiling her attempts to “help him forget” as we load her drunken body into my car, buckle her in, and shut the door.

  “Do you need me to follow you to her house? And then I can follow you home.”

  An uncomfortable silence lingers in the brisk air before I answer. “Oh, that’s okay. I, uh, was on my way to Logan’s from here.”

  “Ah.” He steps closer, but not close enough in the dim lighting of the parking lot for me to read what’s going on in his mind. “Chloe…I…”

  Dawn knocks on the passenger window with a succession of sharp raps. “Ready when you are.”

  “Just one minute,” I say, and turn back to Austin. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  Dawn opens the door and sticks her head out. “Set a timer on my phone. Forty-five seconds left and counting.”

  “I’ll be right there,” I say as she counts down how much time remains.

  Austin chuckles. “You should get going. We can talk later.”

  “I can drop her off and come home—”

  “No,” he interjects, “I need to run by the restaurant and check out some things.”

  Call it intuition, but I don’t believe that. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he says, but I’m not convinced. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He walks away, and I do the only thing I can think of to make him feel better.

  “Austin,” I call out as he opens the door of his car. “Did you know the moon is actually shaped like a lemon and not round?”

  His crooked grin makes me grin. “I did not know that. That’s why I like you so much.”

  Of course he waits for me to leave the lot before he drives away. I blow out a breath. They broke up. There was a time I dreamed of this very thing happening. But now that it’s happened, I don’t know what to think. Chances are they’ll get back together, so it’s best I not think about it at all.

  But thinking about it is all I do as I drop off Dawn at her apartment and get her inside where she hooks me up with a change of clothes so I don’t have to do a walk of shame a second time.

  I think about it more as I drive to Logan’s and park in the driveway. Then I don’t want to think about it any longer and tuck it away so I can regroup and focus on having a good time with Logan…and the band?

  “Hey, C,” Liam greets me as I enter the kitchen with Logan. “Want to join us for poker?”

  “They cheat,” Belinda says from her spot at the island. “Fair warning.”

  I scoot on the stool next to her. “I’ve never played so I’ll just stay over here.”

  Logan kisses the top of my head and joins the guys at the table, and I put my focus on having a great night. Sort of.

  “How’s Lucy?” Belinda asks. “Liam said she nearly killed you catching the bouquet. Guess there will be a second wedding soon.”

  “I don’t know,” I say, squirming in my seat. “She and Austin broke up.”

  Her brows raise. “The last time I saw her, she said they were moving in together. Huh. That’s a shocker. Maybe when she thought about what catching the bouquet truly meant, she freaked out.”

  Belinda tells me a cute story about how she panicked and ended things with Liam when he proposed to her. Right now, I kind of wish she were boring, so I could tune her out, but I listen with rapt attention as she tells me it’s normal to get cold feet with serious commitment and more than likely they’ll get back together.

  “So does that mean he’s staying at your place?” Logan asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  “Does that mean you’re not moving? Because my offer still stands.”

  I have no answer and luckily, I don’t need one because Will throws down a royal flush. Logan asks to see what he’s hiding in his pants.

  “You just want to see my dick again.”

  Their continued banter makes me laugh. This is how my life would be if I lived with Logan all the time. And it’s…nice. Not like my home, but nice. Huh. When did I start thinking of the place I share with Austin as home? It is, though. More than just the place I live. It’s where my heart is. Where I live, love, laugh. Where throw pillows get their inspiration.

  Once everyone leaves, Logan takes my hand and brings me to the couch. His pillows don’t say anything, but they are extremely comfortable. “So, I feel you should consider an important perk of living here.”

  “Oh, really? And what perk is that?”

  He picks up a remote from the coffee table and music filters into the room from the surround sound system. “A striptease. One of many perks you’d get as my roommate.”

  A slow, sensual song filters from the surround sound as he eases up his T-shirt, revealing luscious abs, inch by etched inch.

  The black cotton sails across the room, giving me an unobstructed view of rippling muscles beneath golden skin.

  “I’ll need to see more,” I say, mesmerized by the sway of his hips.

  He nudges my knees apart, stepping between them to lower his zipper and discard the remainder of his clothes in a slow tease. His cock points at me, and my nipples point back. As the music wraps us in a sensual cocoon, as he not only strips himself, he undresses me too.

  “Not only will you get stripteases”—he leans down and scoops me into his arms—“you’ll get treats.”

  “I do love treats,” I say as he stalks toward the kitchen, depositing me on the cool granite island.

  “I do too. Especially when they’re eaten off of a beautiful woman.” He opens the fridge and withdraws a tall can of Reddi-wip. Extra creamy. The kind Austin never buys because he creates his own dessert topping from scratch. Also, extra creamy. In the roommate wars, I’d have to give the point to Logan, because Austin never preferred to eat his off of me.

  Logan: 1

  Austin: 0

  Okay, maybe half a point for Austin’s homemade cream because it’s so delicious. Once, I ate the whole bowl.

  Logan: 1

  Austin: 1/2

  “I’ve wanted to taste your tits all night.” Logan squirts a mound of whipped cream on my breast and sucks it into his mouth, grazing my nipple with his teeth. I grip the counter’s edge. Playing with food is a new sexual experience, and it’s definitely upping the chances of me accepting his roommate offer.

  “Mm,” he murmurs as he applies the same decadent attention to my other breast.

  “That feels so good,” I pant out.

  “We’d have dessert nights,” he tempts. “I’d make a sundae on your pussy.” He squirts a fresh trail across my collarbone, lapping it up with his tongue, sucking a path up my neck and nipping my lobe. “Then I’ll fuck you in the shower.”

  I moan as he slips his hand between my legs, exploring my seam. “That’s a damn good sales pitch.”

  “You’re so wet,” he marvels, peering down at his fingers pumping inside me.

  Finally, he kisses me, and I wrap my palm around his hardness, stroking. When his skilled hand has me edging toward an orgasm, he lifts me and stalks toward the bathroom, straight into the shower.

  Our hungry kiss continues as he twists on the water, and a steamy spray fills the tiled enclosure. Logan wins another point when he sinks to his knees and glides his tongue inside me, gripping my ass to bring me closer to his face. Although, if I’m being fair, Austin has this cool shower bench that makes it really easy for me to sit and shave my legs. If not for that, the leg now over Logan’s shoulder as he devours me might not be as smooth. But I’d say Logan wins again when he rises and spins me around, reaching around the shower curtain to pluck a condom from a drawer before entering me from behind.

  “Oh God,” I cry out as my hands slap against the tiled wall, bracing myself for his deep strokes.

  Logan: 2

  Austin: 1 (I really enjoy that shower bench, so another half point.)

  “Damn, Chloe,” he says. “I could come just watching you. No one has ever made me think about that.”

  I deduct half a point from Logan’s total because now I’m thinking about how many people Logan’s had sex with in this shower. I’m sure he’s had his fair share, given the amount of females hanging around the band at their gigs.

  Those thoughts swirl out of my head and down the drain when he slams into me and adds a twist of his hips, sending tingles all the way to my fingertips. My orgasm hits me so hard, my knees buckle.

  Logan grunts and pumps faster, until he releases on a sexy moan. Shower sex is a definite plus, in the perk department. So is watching him wash himself after the deed. And watching him watch me as I dry my hair.

  Once we’re in bed, Logan traces circles on my shoulder. “How’s Mae’d doing?”

  Great sex and pillow talk? Unf. I fill him in on my business and how it’s booming with website orders and tell him about my new project with Something Borrowed.

  “You’ll be taking over the pottery world soon,” he says in a drowsy voice. “My back deck would be a perfect place for your pottery wheel.”

  We briefly talk about me possibly moving in, but avoid talking about whether I’d be moving in as a “roomie” or a “girlfriend.” Oddly, I’m okay that we haven’t said that word. It’s nice to have no labels. My heavy eyelids can barely stay open when he mentions it would be awesome to have someone there to water his plants when he’s on tours.

  Hm. I’m a little fussed that it might be the former, but too tired to analyze it.

  In the past, I probably would’ve found a reason I should agree and then made excuses why I agreed. But, I realize, I don’t know if I want to water his plants. And that’s okay.

  So I say I’d rather not decide yet, and I’m going to see if Austin will sign a month-to-month lease while we figure out our Next Steps In Life.

  Winner: Chloe

  Two

  Messy breakups are more likely to cause depression than other tragic moments in your life. Believe it or not, even more so than death. It worries me. I needed help, and the internet never fails to provide. So as Logan made pancakes this morning, I searched the web for tips on the best ways to help Austin through his split with Lucy, because this isn’t an ordinary breakup like the ones I’ve experienced.

  I mean, he’s been part of a “we” for over a year. Now, he’s just an “I,” and that’s a tremendous change. According to the internet gurus, it’s possible he could even suffer an identity crisis, so it’s best I am prepared for anything and everything.

  You’d think since I’ve had more than my fair share of breakups that it would be smooth sailing for me to navigate Austin through the tumultuous sea of heartbreak. But that’s not the case. Unlike my failed relationships, Austin and Lucy were pretty darn serious, so I can’t relate to the depth of what he’s probably feeling now that they are over. Even if what he’s experiencing is foreign to me, I can still support him with all the expert knowledge I gained this morning.

  I even made an anonymous post on FriendsOfFriends and the consensus is that I need to ease his burden by distracting him from thinking about it and also that I am still in love with him. Which I am not.

  I closured.

  My plan involves just being there for him with no judgments. That’s what he did for me, and I’m going to return the favor and be the best friend I can be for as long as he needs me. It’s important for me to approach things with compassion and no matter what he tells me, be careful with my words because what if they get back together?

  When I arrive home and walk in the door, Austin is unleashing his emotions on the hardwood floor, Swiffering at a rapid pace across the living room. The music notes on his arms dance as his biceps flex from the amount of muscle he’s putting into it. Other than that, he looks normal. You’d never guess he’s experiencing emotional trauma. He’s not moping nor schlubbing around in wrinkled pajamas, like I tend to do when I’m upset with life. He’s dressed in worn jeans and a black T-shirt, hair gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the open blinds on the windows.

  “Hey,” I say, in the gentle tone I used on Coco, because I’m not sure what mood to expect.

  Anger, sadness, and confusion are all possibilities.

  He glances up and hits me with a devastating smile. “Hey, roomie.”

  I smile, but I don’t know how to respond. Ov er this past year, I’ve learned it’s not beneficial to me to hold things inside and just hope it works out in my best interest. In a glorious sign I’ve matured, I blurt out, “Are we roomies? Logan asked me to move in, but with you and Lucy…”

  “Wait. Hold up.” He props his duster against the wall. “He asked you to move in?”

  I perch on the couch’s arm. “Yeah. Last night after the wedding.”

  “You barely know him.” He runs a hand through his hair, rumpling the dark tresses. “Why would he ask you to move in so soon?”

  Lucy’s comments about “big brother” blare in my head. Will he ever realize I’m a grown woman? “I don’t know, because I needed somewhere to live?”

  Is it really that odd? Not everyone lives by society’s acceptable timetable. Granny Mae only knew my grandfather for a week before they got hitched. What’s normal to one person isn’t necessarily normal to another, but now Austin’s got me thinking that—what if it really is all about watering his plants?

  “You have somewhere to live,” he says. “You know you can stay here if you want. Do you not want to stay?”

  This is not going how I planned. It’s not supposed to be about me. I’m here to help him through his suffering and find out what happened. “Well, I didn’t have a place twenty-four hours ago when he asked me. He was just being nice.”

  “Are you going to move in with him?”

  A crease forms between his brows, and even though I want to smooth it out by assuring him, the new and mature me isn’t rushing into decisions anymore. I should give it more time to decide where I’ll end up living permanently, wait until he’s stronger and less vulnerable. After all, what happens if I decide to stay and then Lucy comes back into the picture? The only thing worse than not having Austin as a roommate would be having them both.