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“Have you been drinking?” he asked.
It was probably a stupid question. She was a young woman who knew how to have fun, and hello, wedding reception—most likely a few drinks had been involved. Though he couldn’t recall her ever drinking to excess at any of the parties or events they’d both attended.
“A little. Enough to not be put off by your surly ways, Sparks Pruitt.” She gave him another look under her lashes, except this time she lingered until he shifted. Had to, because she’d pinned him in place with her stare. Her eyes were far too knowing, and they peered too deep. He didn’t want to be examined that closely, especially by her.
Not when he knew his best friend was waiting for her upstairs, probably naked. After they’d been naked together.
Obviously.
Hell, he could smell Tristan on her. Her scent was a rich fruity one he could never quite place. Something exotic and juicy and ridiculously hot. Tristan’s spicy citrus cologne layered over that, clinging to her hair and her skin as she leaned in close to finish the last few buttons. She’d risen up on her tiptoes, and her head was on the verge of bumping his chin. For some reason, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her task took all her focus.
“It’s not your job to dress me,” he rasped as her fingers fumbled on the last button, the one closest to his collarbone—and his heartbeat. His currently rocketing heartbeat, to go with his unsteady breathing and the throb in his dick.
His whole body was pulsing for her. Tuned to her every movement.
She slipped the last button through the hole and stepped back, viewing him as dispassionately as she might a new setlist. Analyzing him without emotion, because she had none for him.
So when her gaze flicked upward, and something stirred in her eyes, he figured he had to be imagining it. Either that or the “little” bit of alcohol she’d had was enough to make her see him in a way she’d never quite managed before.
Ever.
Fucking ever.
He’d waited for any possible sign there was room for him to make a move. Eventually, he’d decided wanting her from afar was way better than getting his cock crushed. Never mind any other vital organs.
“I didn’t dress you.” He was so lost in his thoughts that her voice was a shock. “I just set you back to rights. You’re not the type to parade through here showing off your body.”
He didn’t say a word. Was he dreaming?
“Trust me on that one.” She nodded at the beer he still gripped. It had started to sweat, probably due to his now stratospheric body temperature. “You’ll regret it in the morning once the hangover wears off.”
He grated out a laugh. “You think I’ve been drinking?”
“Newsflash.” She tapped the side of his beer with her thumb. “Drink.”
“Newsflash.” He grabbed her wrist when she lifted her hand to pat him on the shoulder like she would a confused toddler. “I’m perfectly sober, and it’s not your job to worry about my bare chest.”
“Who said I was worried? I was just being a…friend.” Her hesitation said it all.
They weren’t friends. Sure, they were friendly sometimes, in a cool, casual way.
Buddies they were not.
“Why? Why now, Juliet?” He stepped closer, still gripping her wrist as he got into her space. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, especially not with a woman his pal had moved in on. But hell, she was right there, and she’d touched him, and how was he supposed to pretend it didn’t matter when his blood had been on fire for her for months? “Let me guess. You think playing with two is more fun than one. I don’t know what you overheard earlier, but I can assure you it isn’t what you think.”
Her throat bobbled as she swallowed. “Not a whole lot of thinking going on right now, Sparks.” Her voice was barely a breath, it was so low. “And I didn’t overhear much of anything. Just two males circling each other like they were marking territory.”
Randy gentled his hold on her wrist. God, her skin was so pale that he could bruise her if he wasn’t mindful. He needed to be careful with her. With himself.
With this whole fucking ticking time bomb of a situation.
Yet he also wasn’t going to lie. He’d lied for so long now, mostly to himself. He’d figured if he denied his wants to himself, one day they would simply vanish. That’s what happened to a flame without enough oxygen. In time, the light extinguished itself.
If his rock hard dick was any indication, that wasn’t happening here.
Not by a long shot.
“We weren’t circling each other for no reason. There was something we wanted,” he said softly. “Make that someone.”
