Fuck.
My dick twitches, already getting hard again just from the memory. She hasn’t come out of the bathroom yet—maybe I could go back for another round.
No. Get it together, Evans.
I crack my neck and subtly adjust my pants before taking my seat. Madison, Dash, Cade, and Savannah are all still sitting in their spots.
Madison turns to me instantly. Her eyes are wide, and she’s grinning.
I don't say anything or acknowledge her on purpose. Instead, I clear my throat, adjust my bow tie again, and glance at the bathroom door.
She’s still not out. So she’s either really committing to the bit that we’re not together, or she is trying to figure out how to wear that dress while I’m still dripping out of her. Yeah, I didn’t use a condom. Honey’s been on the shot for as long as I can remember, and as per usual, she didn’t stop me.
Either way, her not being here has given me time to find the perfect viewing spot.
“Are you seriously going to ignore me?” Madison asks indignantly. “What happened?” she squeals, her voice cutting through the music.
“Nothing.” I grab my drink, taking a long swallow, focusing fully on that bathroom door.
“Pfft. You think I believe that?”
“Madison, don’t push,” Dash warns, leaning back and brushing his hand across her back.
She turns to her fiancé. “Oh, please. He literally dragged her off the dance floor and out of the room. Don’t you remember how that ended for us?”
Dash’s head jerks toward her. “Madison.”
“And how exactlydidthat end for you, Dash?” Cade asks flatly. He looks between his best friend and sister, his brow furrowed. Okay, I thought I had it bad with the whole Tiff’s baby daddy situation, but maybe this dude has it worse.
“Nothing,” Dash says.
Madison lifts her chin in mock defiance. “If nothing means he kissed me, then sure. Nothing happened between us.”
Dash makes a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a growl, but Madison just shrugs, smug. “Come on, we’re engaged now.” She flashes her giant ring like it’s Exhibit A. “You can’t be mad about it anymore.”
“I’m not mad about it,” Cade says, leaning toward his wife, Savannah. “I’m just trying to stop you from over sharing.”
“Too late for that,” I mutter.
When I see the hint of her dress, all my attention is on her. The music drowns out; the voices aren't there. It's just Honey walking out of the bathroom, clutching the skirt of her dress, flustered and embarrassed.
I track her every step, watching the way she walks. She keeps her chin up, trying to look composed even though I know she's anything but.
She doesn't look my way, but she knows I'm watching.
She always knows.
When she slides back into her chair next to Chris, I see her shifting her weight, then crossing her legs. A tiny wince flashes across her face—so quickly that most people would miss it, but I don't miss anything when it comes to her.
She's sore. Good. Let her be reminded of me every time her tight little pussy clenches.
Chris leans in to say something to her, and she forces a smile, nodding at whatever the hell he’s talking about.
Her eyes flick toward me for just a second, and when our eyes meet, her cheeks go pink. She looks away quickly, smiling at Chris as though nothing happened between us in that bathroom.
Yeah, Honeycomb. Try pretending you're not thinking about me now.
Try pretending you don't still want me.
