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Chapter One
Sam
“Umph.”
A sharp collision against my ribcage nudges me from my warm, sleepy cocoon.
“Whattt?” The word comes out as an inaudible grumble. My tongue is so dry it’s adhered to the roof of my mouth. Rolling over, I bury my face in the pillow, not ready to face the day. Until the rustling of my brother’s thousand thread count sheets has my lids fluttering in confusion. I clamp them down quickly in response to the sunlight pouring in through the window, but not before I get an eyeful. The momentary flash of tan skin to my left is my first clue I’ve screwed up. Again.
I blink against my pounding, tequila-soaked brain, forcing one eye open to see a tangled web of arms, bare legs, and long, glossy hair. Correction. It’s not a warm body.
It’s two.
One blonde, one brunette.
The sight causes a groan to escape my lips. Shit. And here I was dreading waking up because that meant dragging my sorry ass to work. This is worse.
Facing my indiscretions in the light of day is much worse.
I really need to stop drowning my problems in high-priced alcohol and women with incredibly low standards. Because let’s be clear. Any female choosing to spend her evening with the likes of me has a low bar for male companionship.
As my vision sharpens enough to see past my ambiguous morals, I again wince at the aggressive morning sun making my brain pound within my skull. Can’t that filthy rich bastard have the decency to hang blackout curtains instead of these bespoke silk drapes? What the hell time is it, anyway?
Yet before I can lift my Audemars Piguet Offshore wristwatch to glance at the time, the bedroom door flies open. There stands my nephew with a bowl of neon-colored cereal in his hands and a completely blank expression on his face. “Hi, Sam,” he greets before shoveling a spoonful into his mouth.
While this six foot tall twenty-year-old looks like an adult to the outside world, Austin often fails to read the room. Being on the autism spectrum can come with some unique challenges. He’s a brilliant artist and a joy to be around.
Just not at this exact moment.
Before I can fully piece together what my nephew’s presence means, his next question has me clambering. “Daaaad?” Austin bellows over his shoulder, his voice bouncing against the walls of the quiet house. “Is Uncle Sammy having a sleepover?”
Fuck!
How had my hungover brain not connected the dots? If my nephew is here, his family must also be here. And by his family, I mean my big brother, Sebastian. They were supposed to be on vacation until tonight or tomorrow.
Jesus. This is bad. Like really, really bad.
“Sam!” My brother’s voice snaps through the hallway like a thunderclap.
“Party’s over, girls,” I blurt, scrambling up and prodding the exposed butt cheek of the blonde to my left. Darting across the hardwood floor, I give my nephew a fist bump, the act gently prodding him back a step. “Good to see you, Austin. I’ll catch you later, dude.”
Slurp. “Okay. Bye.”
I close the heavy bedroom door and flick the lock just as Sebastian’s heavy footsteps bound down the hallway toward us. Throwing myself into a panicked frenzy, I scoop up a scattered trail of designer clothes from the rug, tossing bras and heels at the bed.
Hell, these two must’ve had more to drink than I did if all of this racket hasn’t roused them. Grabbing the brunette by her bare ankles, I drag her to the edge of the mattress, hoping to fully wake her up. What the hell was her name? “Gotta go, chica.” I clap loudly. “Grab your things. Let’s move!”
“What’s happening?” The blonde yawns, blinking up at me with confused, mascara-smudged eyes.
“We came back to my brother’s place last night because it was closer than my house.” I conveniently leave out the fact I no longer take women to my home after one didn’t catch the true meaning of a one-night-stand. She mistakenly thought there was an open invitation to return. Then another’s not-so-ex-husband tracked her to my door. “Apparently, Bas came back from his weekend trip early and isn’t too happy about our being here.”
“Bummer. I thought this was your place, Sam.” The brunette pouts as she climbs out of bed, striding toward me wearing only a coquettish grin. She appears completely unfazed by my frantic goading to get the hell out of here. The obstinate tart runs her hands up my chest, her manicured nails trailing lightly over my pecs. “It’s not like it’s that big a deal. Tell him to chill.” She rolls her eyes, turns to peer out the sliding glass doors toward the lavish pool momentarily, then glances knowingly at her blonde friend whose name also escapes me. The dark-haired temptress cocks a brow and licks her lips. “Unless we can repay him for his hospitality.”
Yeah, I’m sure his wife would love that.
Before I can answer, the doorknob jiggles erratically, vibrating against the lock. Sebastian’s voice booms through the wood, dark and furious. “Get out, Sam. I told you the next time I caught you treating my home like a brothel I’d fucking kill you. And I meant it.”
The brunette’s hand freezes on my chest, her face mimicking the color of the crisp white sheets now strewn about the floor.
