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Maybe someday…
Ugh. No way could she count on it, at least not with Flynn. He’d leave her in the dust the moment he found out the truth.
“He didn’t cheat on me,” Willow said, her voice soft as she tilted her head back and smiled up at Nick. “We were young and dumb. It probably wouldn’t have worked out if we’d tried that first time around.”
“You really think so?” Nick sounded incredulous.
“I know so. I wasn’t even twenty yet. You were in your first pro season and horny. I couldn’t have kept you satisfied,” Willow said wryly.
“You keep me satisfied, baby.” Nick kissed Willow on the tip of her nose. “You were the one I always wanted. I hope you know that.”
Aubrey barely kept in the sigh that wanted to escape. They were having a total moment right now, and it was the cutest thing. But it also felt like she and Flynn were intruding on that moment.
“Maybe we should think about heading back to the hotel,” Aubrey suggested, her voice soft.
“Why? That eager to get back to that hotel room?” Nick laughed when both Aubrey and Flynn turned to glare at him. “What? You know it’s true. Your woman is buzzed. She’s been all over you since we came here.”
She couldn’t deny Nick’s words, because they were all true. As much as she wanted to hold a piece of herself back, out of Flynn’s grasp, that didn’t stop the constant yearning she had for him. It was just embarrassing to be called out for it.
“Oh, stop,” Willow said, giving him a slight shove. “You know you’re eager to get back to the room, too. You love nothing more than fooling around in a strange room that doesn’t belong to us. Ups the excitement for you.”
They both laughed. Aubrey wanted to die. She really didn’t need to hear those ultraprivate details about one of her clients. If she could, she’d plug her fingers in her ears.
“I am pretty beat,” Flynn said, feigning a yawn. Well, at least Aubrey hoped he was feigning it.
The last thing she wanted was to go back to the hotel, get a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, and then watch Flynn slip into his room.
Alone.
Though it would be best, right? The less time she spent with Flynn, the better she could protect her fragile heart. And it was so incredibly delicate right now. Like shatter-in-her-chest-if-she-didn’t-watch-it fragile.
“I’m sure you are,” Nick drawled, looking like he didn’t believe him whatsoever.
“Come on, let’s go,” Willow said, sliding from beneath Nick’s arm and exiting the booth. “I feel like we’re sitting around talking in circles. When, really, we all want to slip into bed and cuddle.”
“Darlin’, are you suggesting we have an orgy with Flynn and Aubrey?” Nick’s eyebrows shot straight up. “I know Flynn’s feeling a little bolder now, what with Aubrey poppin’ his cherry and all, but slow down, girl. You’ll scare the hell out of them.”
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“Great, make them think I’m into orgies,” Willow whispered furiously, though Aubrey could tell she was trying to hold back her laughter. Willow’s gaze cut to Flynn and Aubrey. “He’s full of it, I hope you know. I wasn’t referring to having an orgy.”
Aubrey glanced at Flynn, who was sporting an embarrassed grin. “Of course we knew you didn’t mean it.” And she did know that. Hopefully so did Flynn.
“I’m just fuckin’ with you, Foley,” Nick said, shoving at Flynn’s shoulder when he slid out of the booth. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”
“Yeah, real funny,” Flynn muttered, setting his hand at the small of Aubrey’s back as they left the restaurant.
She offered him a shy smile and he returned it, slowly shaking his head. Her stomach felt fizzy, full of nerves and hope and worry. She liked being part of a couple—probably too much. Shaking their heads together at the outrageous things Nick said. Spending time with friends. Knowing they were headed back to the hotel so they could get naked and stay in each other’s arms for the rest of the night.
But she needed to remember it was temporary. This, too, shall pass.
God, she really hated temporary.
Chapter Eleven
“So.” Flynn swallowed hard, captivated by the sight of Aubrey standing in the middle of his hotel room, shedding her coat and tossing it on the chair nearby. She ran her hand over her hair, her fingers threading through the reddish-hued waves as she smoothed it out and, holy hell, was he really getting a hard-on from watching her touch her hair?
Yes, he was. The entire night had been a different form of foreplay between them. It confused him. She’d been so attentive when the evening started out, but he’d felt her start to withdraw during dinner, and he had no idea why. What had happened?
