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“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll…see you around, then.”
“See you around,” he repeated.
What happened next all took place in a strange blur. Sean tried to step out of the way for me to get in the car, but instead of me gracefully sliding in, I nearly bumped into him, moving my face in such a way that our lips brushed against one another’s.
The feeling, as brief as it was, sent a shiver of electricity through my body. Sean moved more skillfully than I had, and right when I realized what had happened a good few feet of space already separated us.
Holy shit.
“Um,” said Sean, sounding just as shocked by the accidental almost-kiss as I felt. “I’ll be seeing you, Shania.”
He was in his fancy car and gone before I even had a chance to say a word.
And as he drove off, I knew without a doubt that our little plan to keep our attraction in check wasn’t going to be as easily done as said.
Not a single doubt in my mind about that.
Chapter Nine
SEAN
Three days later…
The kiss, or the thing that’d been close enough to a kiss, was still on my mind as I pulled into the roundabout driveway in front of Sam and Will’s Venice Beach home. I’d been giving it my all to forget about it, but it seemed like the closer I drove to the house the more and more it had begun to take up all the space in my brain.
“Come on,” I said as I killed the engine. “It wasn’t a kiss. I mean, seriously—it’d have been one thing if you, I don’t know, couldn’t keep your hands off her and wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her close and looked deep into those eyes and pressed your lips onto hers and—”
I caught myself mid-thought. My damn brain had turned against me. And that little train of thought had brought another part of my body into the picture—a glance down at my jeans revealed a cock tenting so hard I had to do the pinch-the-thigh trick to get it to go down.
Cars were parked all around me, nearly filling up the driveway. Inside the home I saw the few dozen people who’d all been invited to the wedding announcement celebration—the reason I’d driven all the way to Venice Beach. And I knew that Shania would be there.
The whole point of our little coffee thing the other day had been, I’d hoped, to open the lines of communication between us, and to let her know that she didn’t have to feel weird around me now that we were going to be in each other’s faces constantly over next couple of months.
And I thought it’d gone pretty damn well, if I did say so myself. I’d been chill and cool and even a little businesslike about the whole thing. But the second our lips had brushed against one another’s all the damn work I’d put into keeping myself in check had gone out the fucking window—just like that!
The sexual tension that I’d been carefully trying to undo was back, maybe even more than before. After all, now both of us knew that it was pretty much impossible to be around one another without nearly making out, if not more.
I shook my head, wanting to stay in the car and hope the night would pass me by. Not a chance in hell that was going to happen though—I’d have the four of them blowing up my phone within the hour.
I grabbed the bottle of wine on the passenger’s seat and considered. Maybe it was best to go back to how things were? Did Shania and I really need to be on a super friendly basis?
And then there was the wedding. Don’t get me wrong—I was pretty damn psyched to be the best man. That meant certain responsibilities, sure, but anything for my guys, right? Shania would be around more though, and I was going to have to be a grown-up about the whole thing. For my guys.
I was doing a little, as my dad used to call it, “pointless rumination,” my go-to-move whenever I wanted to put off something I knew I needed to do.
I forced myself out of the car and walked to the damn door.
It opened almost instantly at my knock, Will and Sam greeting me with big smiles.
“Hey!” said Will. “Wondering when your ass was gonna get here.”
“Got a little hung up. Sorry, bud.”
Hung up might not be the right phrase.
“Well, get your butt in here,” said Sam, grabbing me by the arm and almost yanking me out of my Nikes.
I looked around the spacious place, taking in their new pad. It was a huge, modern beach house the two of them had finished. Three stories, smart everything, the hippest of interior décor. And, of course, a full-size swimming pool and a view of the beach that even the richest in the city would kill for. Dozens upon dozens of party goers were there, talking and drinking, and some of them were dancing to Drake playing on the state-of-the-art speaker system.
