Secretly More

  Secretly More

  Lux Zakari

  What if the one you love IS the one you’re with…

  Jay Navarrete has been in love with his best friend Kimber York for years. When she ends her frustrating long-term relationship with an apathetic musician, he decides the time is finally right to tell her how he feels.

  But Kimber has an agenda of her own, one that doesn't include returning Jay's feelings. Instead, she's eager to make up for lost time by becoming more sexually adventurous. Her mission leads her to an upstairs bedroom at a wild party, where she agrees to be blindfolded and await a mystery lover. Although Jay knows it's wrong, he's unable to resist the opportunity to be with her.

  But Jay soon finds himself in a complex tug-of-war between his integrity and his heart, one that threatens to ruin everything between Kimber and him-especially when she falls hard for someone else: her mystery lover.

  Lux Zakari

  Secretly More

  Copyright © 2011 by Lux Zakari

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to my editor, Char, for cracking me up and finding those pesky word gremlins.

  To those who are in love with their best friend, whether they know it or not.

  Chapter One

  “You won’t believe what Dane did this time.” Kimber shook her head as she poured a dash of sweet vermouth in the rocks glass.

  “I bet I will.” Jay didn’t look up from the book he was reading on the floor behind the casino’s downstairs bar. His knees to his chest, he stretched Proust’s In Search of Lost Time in front of him while twisting a piece of his curly dark hair around his finger.

  “Smart ass.” Kimber sidestepped her friend and added a cherry to the Manhattan, which she placed before the customer on the sleek gold-and-mahogany surface of the bar and flashed a brilliant smile. Although her teeth were slightly crooked and her lips might’ve been considered too large, she knew her mouth was her best asset and used it to her advantage. As if proving her point, the customer-a white-haired gentleman in a neatly pressed suit-gave her a wink, raised his glass, and walked away, leaving her an impressive tip.

  The money improved her mood only marginally. The slow pace of Airy Peak Racetrack and Casino on a Tuesday afternoon did nothing to distract her from Dane-centric thoughts. She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms and ankles, and sighed. When Jay failed to react, she released another sigh, then another, each deliberately louder and more melodramatic than the one before.

  Jay lifted his gaze toward her and closed his book with a roll of his eyes. “So what did Dane do?”

  “Well, you know we were planning on living together.”

  “I know you were. I doubt Dane’s ever made a plan in his life.”

  “Living together was his idea.”

  “Was he stoned when he suggested it?”

  “No.”

  “Drunk then?”

  “That isn’t the issue.” Kimber bristled and lifted her gaze toward the Tiffany-style ceiling made of amber glass and a filigree network of stars, butterflies, and leaves. “The point is, we had a plan to live together, so I found us a place and signed the lease. All I needed was his signature next to mine. But during the two seconds we were broken up last week, his old lease expired and he had nowhere else to go, so he moved in with Sam and Wendy.”

  “The two girls who hate you?”

  “All his friends hate me. They think I suppress all his fun Dane-ness.” She leaned against the counter with her chin in her hand and remembered how Dane had cried when he’d told her about his new living arrangement. He’d said he hadn’t known what else to do, he’d had no other choice, he hadn’t thought she’d ever talk to him again, he couldn’t afford anything else, and if he’d known it would jeopardize their relationship, he wouldn’t have done it. The memory of his tearful excuses-and how she forgave him and took him back all the same-roiled in her stomach.

  “But now you’re back together so…”

  “So he’s still living with those other girls because he thinks it’d be wrong to back out on their lease and screw them over. Meanwhile, tomorrow I’m moving into the apartment I was meant to share with Dane, only now I’ll have to live in it myself, wondering what the hell he’s up to all the time. What am I gonna do?”

  “Call Dane and dump him for the hundredth time, and make it stick for once.” Jay lifted his shoulders. “He’s a dumb fuck. I’ve told you this before.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “I thought it was heavily implied every time you complain about him and I tell you to dump him. It’s time to move on.”

  “Yeah…” Kimber raked her teeth over her lower lip and looked toward the stretch of jangling slot machines and fast-paced table games. Move on wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, especially when it concerned her six-year relationship, no matter how tumultuous it was. “You used to like Dane though. You were the one who set us up.”

  “I introduced you. That’s not the same thing as setting you up. And it’s not like Dane’s a bad person or anything. He’s nice enough, a great guitar player.” Jay shrugged. “But he’s not the guy for you if he’s not coming through with what you want.”

  Kimber snatched a damp rag and wiped the counter, more for the need to distract herself from her panic than to tidy up the bar. “That’s what Ferney said, too.”

  “Right, and it’s not often your sister and I have the same viewpoint, so maybe this is a real sign if we’re saying the same thing.” Jay pushed himself to his full height of six feet, two inches, and stretched with a yawn. “Well, that’s that.”

  “‘That’s that’? That’s all you can say?”

  Jay wrapped his arm around Kimber’s neck and pulled her close, messing up her blonde ponytail with his knuckles. “I meant that’s that, as in I have to get to class now. But yes, the same goes for you and Dane. As shitty as that is, sometimes that’s just the way things are. Some things work out, some things don’t, and that’s the score.”

  “Hmph.” Kimber shoved him away and tore the elastic band from her hair, trying to comb out the tangles with her fingers. “Are you coming back to pick me up after my shift tonight? My car’s still in the shop.”

  “Kim, your car’s been in the shop for like, three weeks. Face it-it’s been stripped and sold for parts by now.”

  “Just be here by eight. We need to iron out the details for my move tomorrow.”

  “Oh shit.” He winced. “That’s tomorrow?”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “Jay! I just told you-”

  “Kidding.” He laughed and gave her shoulder a light punch. “I’ll see you tonight, okay? We’ll talk all the strategy you want.” He ducked under the bar counter and gave it a slap as he sauntered away, book in one hand, his crumpled dealer’s uniform over his shoulder.

  Kimber watched him leave with amused affection. If Jay wasn’t her best friend, she didn’t know what she’d do.

  * * *

  Jay slid into the driver’s seat of his rusty white Monte Carlo and tossed his uniform and book in the back seat to join the rest of the junk piled there. Then he gave a groan as his forehead crashed against the steering wheel, the horn giving a brief toot in sympathy upon contact. He wasn’t sure who the biggest fool was: that idiot Dane for treating Kimber like shit, Kimber for letting him, or himself for thinking that she’d ever see the truth.

  He twisted the key in the ignition with a heavy sigh, and as the engine roared to life, the passenger door swung open. His friend Matt Moquest tumbled into the seat beside him, slamming the door with a force that shook the vehicle.

  “Good, you haven’t left yet,” Moquest panted, his round face ruddy from exertion. “I need a ride.”

  “Dude, I gotta get to class. The final’s next we
ek.”

  “It’ll just take a sec.”

  “What will?”

  “You dropping me off at the beauty school. It’s just up the road.”

  “Really? Last I checked, Empire was a half hour away in the complete opposite direction.”

  “Come on, man.” Moquest jutted out his bottom lip and drummed on the dashboard. “Be a friend. I’m good for gas money.”

  “Where’s your truck?”

  “At Empire. I lent it to Gina so she could get to her shampoo class on time.” Moquest flipped down the passenger-side visor mirror to peer at his short, spiky brown hair, which was currently sporting new frosty blond tips. “Do you mind if we step on it? I don’t wanna be late meeting her.”

  “A thousand apologies, my liege.” Jay shifted the Monte Carlo into reverse. “Apparently Gina’s education is more important than mine-especially if she’s the one who did that to your hair.”

  Moquest made himself comfortable, reclining the seat and sliding it backward for maximum leg room to better suit his tall, hefty frame. “Question. If my name was Kimber York, would you be bitching so much about giving me ride?”

  “Har har.” Jay rolled his eyes, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main highway. His gaze flicked between the road and the car’s clock as he accelerated, the latter based on reflex. He’d bought the car for five hundred dollars off eBay a few months ago and the clock-as well as a few other features, including a jammed sunroof-had never worked. Instead, Kimber had used a label maker to create the standing time of 12:52 during one of their rides to the casino together, leaving yet another of her many marks.

  “You know I’m right.” Moquest stretched, putting his hands behind his head. “Face it, Navarrete. You and Kimber? Not in this lifetime. If it was meant to happen, it would’ve by now.”

  “Right, like I’m going to take relationship advice from a guy nailing a stripper.”

  “An ex-stripper. Gina’s trying to turn her life around.” Moquest grinned. “Fortunately, she’s still got all the perks and knowledge from the gig without having the gig itself, if you know what I mean.”

  “I always know what you mean. You’re not exactly Joyce or Eliot.”

  “I’m just gonna ignore what was probably one of your geeky, literary insults no one gets and tell you I know someone who’s into you.”

  Jay narrowed his eyes and cranked down his window, the glass jarring with every twist of the handle. “Who?”

  “Nicole.”

  “I don’t know a Nicole.”

  “Yeah, you do-the chick from the cash-out counter with the sexy flower tattoo on her spine. Don’t ask me how I know that. Trust me, she wants you, man. You should go for it. Bring her to my party Saturday.”

  “What’s the occasion, a celebration of you dating an exotic dancer?”

  “An ex-exotic dancer, and yes, more or less.” A wicked gleam shone in Moquest’s eye. “It should be a wild night.”

  Jay rested his arm along the window, his elbow feeling the fading, late-spring sunshine. “Isn’t it always?”

  “Yeah, but this one should be especially interesting. Gina’s been giving me ideas.”

  “I’m sure she has been.”

  “I’m telling you, you’ve got to bring Nicole. I can’t predict a surer thing.”

  “I guess.” Jay shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  Moquest crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked out the window, shaking his head. “I repeat-never gonna happen.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I wish I could, man, but you’re just so pathetic. Does Kimber have any idea how long you’ve been into her? Seriously, you need to tell that girl what’s what or move on and finally get a life. I know so many girls you could be gettin’ it on with, it’s painful. I can’t stand to see you waste the prime of your life like this.” He paused as the car veered off the highway and slowed along the shoulder. “Why’re we stopped? Where we going?”

  “I’m going to class. You’re going there.” Jay pointed out the windshield, where several Indian women mingled around a battered bus stop covered with graffiti and defiled posters urging citizens to vote.

  “Are you kidding me?” Moquest sputtered as Jay reached over him to open the passenger door and push him out of the car. “I’m just trying to get you laid for the first time in eons, and this is how you repay me?”

  “Tell Gina I said hi.” Jay pulled the door shut and, with an exaggerated wave to his friend, made a U-turn and merged into traffic again.

  “I’ll get you for this.” He heard Moquest yell after the vehicle. “Just you wait.”

  Jay snickered as the rest of Moquest’s threats faded with the distance, but his mirth was short-lived. He knew Moquest was right about Kimber. It was time he did something about his feelings for her, and with Dane edging more and more out of the picture, now could be the perfect opportunity.

  * * *

  Later that evening, the Monte Carlo rolled to a stop in front of a renovated Victorian house, its first-floor apartment the one Kimber currently shared with her older sister Ferney. Jay lowered the volume of the stereo, currently blasting Sly and the Family Stone, as Kimber gave a sigh.

  “I’ll miss this dump,” she said.

  “I’m sure it’ll miss you, too, but you’re onto bigger and better things.”

  She turned to him, her blonde ponytail swishing with the movement. “You think?”

  “God, yeah. Having your own place is awesome, you’ll see. You should be proud you can pull off living alone.”

  “You’re just saying that-but I think I needed you to.” She grinned and leaned toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “So I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Obviously. How else are you gonna get your stuff there with no car?” Jay gave her a squeeze back then loosened his embrace, but he didn’t let go until Kimber did. She chalked it up to the hug etiquette she’d taught him when they were juniors in high school. The day they met, she’d been milling around with some mutual friends, insisting it was Free Hug Day. Then Kimber, ever the extrovert, grabbed him, the new kid from the next town over, and gave everyone a demonstration on giving the perfect hug. Part of the tutorial was never letting go until the person who initiated the hug did. Kimber pulled away with a smile, thinking how much she’d probably embarrassed him then but how the lesson was apparently instilled in his brain anyway.

  She gave his nose a tap goodbye. “Don’t forget to bring your muscles tomorrow.”

  “I’ll try to remember.”

  She exited the car, half-skipping to her apartment while the Monte Carlo idled outside until she reached the porch. Kimber waved as Jay beeped the horn and drove away, then turned to go inside, almost bumping into Ferney, who met her at the door with a glass of merlot.

  “Hey there.” Ferney passed Kimber the wine. “I thought you could use a drink after a long day at work.”

  “Fern, I work at a bar.” Still, Kimber accepted the glass and took a sip, although not without giving Ferney a suspicious look.

  Ferney elevated her chin and pursed her thin lips. “It’s the thought that counts.” She beckoned for Kimber to follow her into the kitchen, where Ferney’s fiancé Paul stirred a pot of brown liquid. Tall and rail thin with delicate cheekbones and pale skin, he looked more fey and elfin than usual, wearing her older sister’s frilled cherry-print apron. “You remember Paul.”

  Kimber slanted Ferney an exasperated look then turned to Paul, who’d been her sister’s boyfriend for the past three years before he recently proposed. “Kimber York, how do you do?”

  “Paul Langham.” He jutted out his hand, and she shook it. “Good to meet you. Ferney’s mentioned you once or twice.”

  “I can only imagine what she said.” She peered into the pot. “What’re you burning?”

  Paul’s lips twisted into a pout. “It’s supposed to smell like this.”

  “Never mind Paul and his ways.” Ferney slid into the breakfast nook’s booth with her
own glass of wine and scooted over, patting the seat beside her. “Come here and let’s have a little chat.”

  “Oh boy.” Kimber sat with a groan. “I knew something was up. You’re never this nice to me when I come home.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ferney’s voice rose, indignant. “I’m always freaking nice to you.”

  “All right, fine.” Kimber laced her fingers atop the table with a stifled sigh. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I just want to make sure you’ve got everything ready for the move.” Ferney covered Kimber’s hands with her own and stared at her, her gray eyes brimming with distress.

  “I think so. But I’m moving, like, eight blocks away, so if I forget something, I’ll just pop over.” Kimber turned her attention to her orange striped cat, the eight-month-old Pepperoni, who trotted into the room and flopped onto his back. She bent toward him, rubbing his stomach. “Hello, little man.”

  “Which reminds me, don’t forget to take that mangy thing.” Ferney gestured toward Pepperoni.

  “He isn’t mangy. He’s clean.”

  “He’s a menace. He’s constantly in my ear, meowing and playing and carrying on.”

  “That’s what kittens do.”

  “Whatevs. I’ll be glad to be rid of him. And now that he’s gone, you can finally concentrate on going back to school, getting your business degree, and opening your own bar like you’ve wanted,” Ferney said. “I hope you’re still planning on calling it Ferney’s.”

  “Totally,” Kimber said, deadpan. “You know what a brilliant idea I think that is.” She slanted her sister a look. “While we’re on the subject of the future, you will be helping me move tomorrow, right?”

  “Of course.” Ferney made a face. “I’m offended you’d even question me. The one you should doubt is useless Dane. Is he going to come through for you? That’s the real mystery-and one I probably know the answer to, if his track record is any indication.”