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Dylan arches a brow. “But you do play.” He turns his attention to Vaughn, moving his arm so the cup he offered me is now in front of his friend. “Here, bro.”
“Thanks,” he says. “But I’m good, too.”
“Suit yourself. Means more for us.” He raises the cup, taps it to Dixie’s, and then downs half the contents like it’s water. When he’s done, he flashes another smile. “What do you think?”
Dixie takes a small sip. “Not bad.”
I stifle a laugh. Dylan has no idea Dixie is an expert at making drinks. He leans over so he’s in her personal space. “I can make it better. Want me to show you how?”
“Oh, would you please? Maybe while we’re naked?” Dixie’s delivery is so over-the-top there’s no mistaking the mockery in her voice.
He scoots back and aims a grin at Vaughn. “Oh, I really like this one.”
“Of course you do,” she says. “You think you see ‘fuck me’ written on my forehead in invisible ink put there just for you.”
“You mean it’s not?” Dylan deadpans.
“How’s the house-sitting going?” Vaughn asks me with a shake of his head.
“I haven’t burned down the kitchen, so good.”
“Hold up,” Dylan says, eyeing the oatmeal raisin cookies on the table between me and Dixie. “Those are fresh baked?”
I pick up the plate. “Yep. Would you like one?”
“Hell, yeah.” He takes two. I offer them to Vaughn. He also takes two, and I wonder if these boys ever get anything homemade.
“Fuck me, these are good,” Dylan says, talking with his mouth full of cookie.
Vaughn nods and when he’s finished chewing says, “They’re fantastic. And I don’t really like raisins.”
I laugh. “Maybe I’ll make you some chocolate chip ones.”
“By ‘you,’ you mean ‘us,’ right?” Dylan says. The puppy dog look on his face makes it hard not to like him.
“No, I meant Vaughn,” I tease.
Dylan feigns a sad face then reaches for the plate. “In that case, I’ll polish these off now.”
Vaughn leans over, his arm brushing my shoulder, his mouth at my neck, and little shock waves race across my upper back. “Dylan grew up on reservations and takeout.”
“And you?” I whisper back.
“Pretty much the same.”
“I hate to break up this little foursome,” Dixie says with a glance at her cell, “but I need to head out.”
“Where you rushing off to, Dix?”
“Word of caution, Dyl, the last guy who called me Dix couldn’t use his for a week.”
Dylan leans back in his chair and with a straight face says, “Punish me, Dix.”
Dixie stands and rolls her eyes. I suck in my bottom lip to keep from laughing and peek at Vaughn. He’s staring at my mouth. So of course I look at his. His lips are full, the bottom lip a little more so, and I want to slide my tongue over it and then taste inside his mouth.
I quickly turn away. “Where are you going?” I blurt out. I need something else to focus on before I fall face first into my hot neighbor. I haven’t wanted to kiss anyone since Mason. Mason. I picture his handsome face, his smile. What does he look like now?
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve got a guitar lesson.” She gathers her towel against her chest with one hand while she holds her notebook in the other and slides her feet into a pair of black flip-flops.
