Page 53 of River & Rue

That wicked smile reaches dimple-level wattage. My brain misfires. For a few seconds, I can’t pull air into my lungs.

Then he winks. Winks.

And to my dismay, unlike 99.9 percent of men, he doesn’t look like a scumbag doing it.

I’m still processing that upsetting fact when he leans back and kicks his feet. The loud splash breaks the trio apart, giving me a clear view of three surprised faces—two of which make my jaw drop.

Warm breath skates across my cheek as River whispers, “Close your mouth.”

My teeth snap together.

Matteo recovers with an easy chuckle. “Hey, guys. Didn’t see you there. How’s it going?”

My laugh is several light years from natural. “Fine. Great. Nice night, right?”

River snorts.

“Oh my gosh, is that Rue?”

The excited, slurred voice belongs to Penelope of all people. She’s grinning and waving at me. With her eye makeup smeared, her hair a mess, and a nipple visible outside her twisted bikini top, she looks and sounds nothing like herself.

“How many personalities does this woman have?” I mutter from the side of my mouth.

“At least three,” River murmurs back.

Penelope rushes forward like she doesn’t see the pool. “It is you! I’m so happy you’re here.”

Wyatt darts after her, catching her before she walks off the edge. “Whoa there, sweet stuff.”

Penelope leans over his arm, stretching her hands. “Rue. Rueeee. I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool I think you are. You’re so cool and pretty and smart. You should come play with us.”

Matteo grins and shrugs. “More the merrier.”

“Cool with me,” adds Wyatt.

Struck mute, I swing my gaze to River and scream Help me! with my eyes.

He glares across the pool. “Fuck. Off.”

Matteo only laughs. “Message received. Feel free to enjoy the show.”

“I’d rather castrate myself,” River mutters. He faces me, his expression gentling. “Time to get out of here?”

“One hundred percent yes.”

We slip off the bench and swim for the pool ladder nearest the cabana. River’s strokes have twice the power of mine, and by the time I reach the ladder, he’s already out.

I’ve just grabbed the aluminum rails when Penelope releases a theatrical moan. I shouldn’t look. But I do.

Matteo and Penelope are making out—if you can even call it that. They look like they’re trying to swallow each other’s faces. Wyatt rocks against Penelope’s ass, his arm around her hip and a hand unquestionably between her legs.

“Move your butt, Princess.”

Jerking into motion, I quickly ascend the ladder. River stands a few feet away, scowling in the direction of the trio. At the grating sound of wood dragging over stone, I give myself permission to see what’s happening now.

Matteo is shoving two of the wide, padded loungers together and dropping their backrests. As soon as they flatten, Wyatt lowers Penelope to the surface and slithers down her body. Her spine arches as his head dives between her thighs. Matteo falls to his knees beside her head and rips his shorts open.

I’m grateful for the shadows and bad angle when slurping sounds reach my ears. But I still can’t tear my eyes away.