Interesting.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that.” John sticks out his hand in Jeremy’s direction. “John Evans, Lincoln’s dad.”
“Mmm,” Jeremy says, shaking John’s hand with a wide smile, “I see where Link gets his mouthwatering looks.”
“For fuck’s sake.” This time, Marcus doesn’t hide the glare he directs at Jeremy, who gives him a dramatic eye roll. Marcus glances between Trey and Charlie. “You all went to high school together?” He gives Jeremy an accusatory look. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“We went to high school in the same town, not the same school.” Jeremy shrugs. “And it never came up.”
“How do you guys know each other?” I interrupt.
“Oh.” The tips of Marcus’s ears turn pink. “He’s…our interior decorator for the Seattle pub.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m your…decorator.” Frustration flitters across Jeremy’s features, but it’s gone so quickly, I’m not sure I saw it. “You must be Sebastian.”
“That’s me.” I look at Marcus, raising my eyebrows. “You brought ourdecoratorwith you?”
When Marcus doesn’t say anything, Jeremy gives him an exasperated look. “I was free this weekend, so I brought some designs with me to show you. Marcus felt like he wouldn’t be able to explain them well.” Jeremy looks at Charlie. “I hope that’s okay. I don’t mean to crash the party.”
“Are you kidding?” Charlie says. She’s back in the kitchen finishing up drink mixing. “You’re always welcome, Jeremy.”
We all go back to chatting, but I can’t help watching Marcusand Jeremy interact. It feels like there’s a lot of tension between them, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say?—
The doorbell startles me out of my thoughts, and Trey jumps up, rubbing his hands together. “Pizza time.”
I’m aboutfour drinks in, and I switched to something fruity with vodka after my first because Jeremy makes delicious—whatever this is. It’s red.
We’re all sitting around a huge table made from some sort of beautiful oak wood, stained in a way that brings out the warm brown colors with what Jeremy called live edges. I finger the smooth, raw-looking finish.
“You okay?” Fi asks quietly, reaching for my hand. I watch her small palm overlap mine and smile stupidly at the contact. I look up, taken by her deep emerald eyes and the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her hair is a sexy mess of loose curls, and she smells like something flowery and fruity.
It’s making my dick hard.
I look at Michaels, who’s sitting across the table from us, smiling ear to ear while he talks with Charlie. Every once in a while, his foot grazes mine, and it reminds me of our day in Flurry when I realized that I want him just as much as I want Fi. He glances at me, his hazel eyes twinkling, and he winks.
And now my dick’s even harder.
“Right, Seb?”
“What?” I look over at my stepsister, who’s giving me a knowing smile. Michaels is staring at me expectantly too, but his look is more curious. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” I must be drunker than I thought because the room has quieted like everyone is waiting for my answer.
“I was just telling Brantley about your cute obsession with him.”
I freeze, and my eyes lock with Michaels’s. “My obsession?” I croak, and then take another drink because how did my throat get so fucking dry?
Charlie gives me an innocent look, and I narrow my eyes. My sister suspects something, and she’s trying to force my hand. “You’ve been following Brantley’s career religiously since Whitmore U.”
“Actually, that’s true,” Marcus cuts in with a grin. “After his first time visiting Charlie, he started watching college hockey.”
“I–I wouldn’t call it an obsession,” I stutter. “Stitch just happened to be on my favorite team…”
Charlie tilts her head, giving me a questioning look.
“Stitch?”
Shit.I didn’t mean to call him by that nickname.
When I don’t immediately respond, Michaels answers for me. “It was my nickname when I played for the Canucks.” His stare is so intense that I have to look away.
