“How many bathrooms did you say you have?” Tate asks.
Jace sits up and frowns at Tate. “You too?”
“Come on, Meeks. Let’s go find our own bathroom.”
Meela giggles and claps her hand over her mouth. Her fiancé stands up, pulling her along. My shy friend goes with the tall blonde man, happy as a damn clam. Lucky bitch.
“I’m going to put Valentina down. Then I’m coming back, Sparta. We can’t be the only one’s not fooling around.”
“You that hard up, Park?”
“When it comes to you? Always.” He leers, leaning down to kiss her lips.
Jace jumps back up, opening his arms. I regretfully hand over Valentina’s curled-up body. Jace kisses the top of her head, and his soft smile spears me right in the chest. He ventures toward the house.
“I’m ready to party bitches!” Jacqueline’s shout has me turning, and I watch as she enters the backyard dressed in asilvery bikini that makes her beautiful brown skin appear even silkier.
She frowns. “Where the hell is everyone?” She lifts a plastic jug. “I made batch cocktails!”
“Everyone is getting fucked right now.” Sophia cackles, removing a circular breast pump from each breast. She opens an ice-filled cooler at the base of her chair and removes a few bottles, expertly filling them with milk before repacking them.
“Excuse me?” Jacqueline laughs, flopping into the seat that Tate and Meela vacated. “You mean people are having sex in your house right now?”
Leaning back in the lounge chair, Sophia nods. “Yup. Silas and Dru, Tate and Meela and in a few minutes Jace will drag my ass out of here too, and I won’t mind a bit. Valentina is a cock blocker for sure.” She grumps and then switches gears. “What kind of batch cocktail did you make?”
“Rum punch.”
“Oooh. And I just pumped. Perfect. I’ll dump what I pump later. Let me put her milk away and I’ll be right back.”
Sophia picks up the cooler and walks inside. I sigh, pulling off my sweatshirt to reveal my tank top underneath. The cool air blows across my heated skin.
“Is everyone having sex but us?”
“It would seem so,” I grump, resting back on my lounge chair, putting back on my shades, determined to ignore the fact that the man I want to fuck is ten feet from me. Please don’t let him walk over here.
“Well fuck it. At least we have alcohol. Since we aren’t getting dick, more for us.”
Jacqueline pours me a glass of the bright pink drink, and the strong scent of rum and something fruity hits my nose. Jacks lifts her plastic cup to mine. I touch hers, but before I can take a sip. Renee Rapp’s“I Think I Like You Better When You’re Gone”comes to mind. Maybe the more I drink, he’ll disappear and give my body and mind some peace.
A deep voice echoes behind me. “What are you drinking, ladies?”
I jolt, both relieved and disappointed that the deep baritone doesn’t belong tohim. I recognize Riggs’s voice and turn around. To my horror, the very man I’d hoped to avoid is standing next to him, close enough that I can smell him. That delicious fragrance he wears mixed with cigarette smoke that never in a million years did I think I’d enjoy, much less crave. Jacqueline’s flirty response saves me from having to say anything, and I resolutely look away, hiding behind the dark lenses of my sunglasses.
“Rum punch. We’re toasting to babies, engagements, and,” she looks at Riggs and I see the charming grin on Jacqueline’s face, “getting fucked all night.”
Riggs lifts a brow and matches her sassy sexual energy. He lifts his dark beer bottle. “Sounds like a great toast.”
It feels like the temperature around us rises ten degrees, and I’m not surprised when Jacqueline gets up, pulls down her cut-offs, and walks to the pool, executing a perfect dive.
“Dayum,” Riggs mutters, smiling as he walks toward her.
The butterflies in my stomach pick up speed when it’s just Stone and me. Growing up the way I did, small talk and fake surface-level conversation are an art, but not with him. I can’t pretend. I can’t fake like the man didn’t eat me out better than any of the three lovers I’ve had since I started having sex. I can’t pretend like I don’t want him to do it again, despite him being a world-class asshole.
Bringing the sweet drink to my lips, I take a sip and hope he follows his friend, but like the bastard that he is, he sits down in Jack’s seat. I hold myself still, not wanting to move an inch. I keep my eyes focused on Jacks leaning on the edge of the pool with Riggs looking down at her. Sloane and his son are alsoplaying in the water, with Scott being thrown in the water by his father. I wish Lara were here. She would love playing with them. Her calm, psychologist-like energy would also help keep me off the ledge with the man I could feel staring at me.
Annoyed, I turn to him. He looks tired and haggard, and perversely, it makes me happy. I hope he’s losing tons of sleep. Asshole. My temper comes out, the words bursting from my lips. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He doesn’t respond, and I keep going. “Like, why? You knew I’d be here. Since I’m apparently some slut who’s been throwing herself at you and forcing my unwanted attention on you, why show up? Huh?” My impassioned speech doesn’t seem to have much of an effect. At least not the way I’d hoped.
“Your brother invited me.”
