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Those calloused fingers between my legs.
That hard cock—
His cell’s buzz pulls me from my dirty thoughts.
He pulls out his phone and checks a text. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“Dean.” He taps a reply into his phone. “He’s throwing us a pool party.”
“Why?”
“To celebrate our anniversary.”
“How long have we been dating?”
“Six months.”
“Not bad.”
“All bad.” His brow furrows as he stares at his cell. “He’s inviting their mutual friends. His friends. Everybody.”
“It’s a chance to rub this in Penny’s face. That’s good.”
“It’s Dean. It’s bad.”
“Does he even have a pool?”
Ryan’s eyes fix on mine. They fill with confusion. “You’ve never been to his place?”
“Why would I?”
“You hang all the time.”
“At the shop. At bars. With Walker. And sometimes with you and Brendon. But never alone.”
“Never?”
“Okay, sometimes.” It’s only natural for us to talk a lot. There are slow times, between appointments, where there’s nothing else to do. Dean is nosy, obnoxious, and over-the-top, but he’s also entertaining. “But not at his place.”
His eyes bore into mine. “You and Dean haven’t?”
“Haven’t what?”
He stares back at me.
“No. God no.” I would never sleep with Dean. Ever. He’s a good friend. But he’s so…
He’s a slut.
And that’s good for him.
But I don’t want to wonder where his dick has been.
That was it at first. But now…
He’s like a brother. It’s weird even considering the possibility of kissing him.
