Page 100 of Sour Notes

The toad certainly didn’t. He only felt threatened because he was worried a decent guy would show me just how toxic his fuckery was.

The way Swayze just pulled me in front of him, wrapping himself around me like a cling-on was everything. My Wolff essentially peed all over me, declaring to everyone here that I’m his and I’m not mad at it.

I liked it, even.

And pee play isn’t even one of my kinks.

If it is all for show, maybe I can try to forget. Pretend I really am his. Just for tonight. Maybe even just for this trip—until we get home and I have to let him go.

Would that be so bad?

Excitement bubbles low in my stomach, the idea taking root, and my brain whirls. It might be the wine talking, or maybe the sun, but fuck it. For once in my life, I’m going to let myself have this.

It’ll be fine. We’re supposed to be a couple, anyway. It’s not fake to anyone else, so why not have a little fun while we’re here? I could let go and just live. Stop reminding myself every few seconds that this is all total bullshit. Vacation romances are a thing, right? They don’t all end in wedding rings.

When we get back home, we’ll be with our friends. He’ll be back at work. Real life will resume… well, after I put that stupid bitch in her place at his fundraiser thing, so I’ll have one last ride I guess—no pun intended.

I’m sure it won’t take long for the badge bunnies to start sniffing around him again.

Everything will go back to normal. Maybe even a new normal, where we’ll argue less because we’ve worked off any residual tension on this trip. Then we’ll forget all about it, like a dream that slowly fades when you wake up, until it disappears entirely.

I’m ready to live the dream.

Leaning my head back onto his chest, I look up at this man, my friend, my one wild night Ghostface stranger, and let go, trusting he’ll keep me safe. I tug his head down to mine, losing myself to his drugging kiss. The rumble that escapes his chest hits me straight down there, kickstarting a whole other pulse.

Oh god.

Trust is one thing, but staying sober enough to not ride his dick like a pony?

That’s the whole ass problem.

Because while I’m playing this arguably dangerous game, blurring these lines—that’s one rule it’s probably smart not to break. Not if I want to keep my poor little shattered heart still beating.

Right?

Pulling away, giving myself a second to breathe, I tug Swayze over to the loungers and push him into one, curling myself onto his lap like the horny hellcat I am. His arm automatically curls around my waist, his thumb stroking little circles just below my ribs while he jokes with my brother.

The rest of the group gathers around too, but I swear I have the worst luck because the toad and my ex-cousin—because fuck her, she doesn’t get that title anymore—end up sitting directly opposite us, ruining my view of the sea.

Ughhhh.

Why are they even still here? No one wants them to be. I wish they’d just stayed home with the kid instead of dumping him on her parents.

How did they even find their way here with both their noses stuck so high in the air? No way they can see in front of them. None.

What’s even the point when they barely speak to anyone.

Although, it’s not like I want him coming anywhere near me, let alone speaking to me after his attack the other night.

Unfortunately, I think I just cursed myself because Pete catches my eye for a second and a slimy smile spreads slowly over his face.

I fire back the biggest death glare before turning back to face Swayze.

He leans his head back against the lounger, tilting it to lock eyes with me.

God, I love his eyes. They look so clear, but so haunting. They’re as unusual in coloring as mine. Makes me wonder what color our kids would end up with?

Woooooah.