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I stare at the text message on the lock screen of Desmond’s phone. Sexy beast? Stupid Enzo. This shouldn’t make me smile, but it does. I’m still pissed off, though. His brother locked me in a fucking bathroom, and he hasn’t even come to bug me.
Me: Desmond? What’s going on? It’s been weeks. Save me. You’re obviously the only one capable of handling me. I need you.
I bite my lip, clutching the phone in anticipation. There isn’t a point in trying to yell at him through a text message, and deep down, I know he’d be here if it weren’t for his brothers. I can’t resist punishing him, though.
Sexy Beast: Baby, really? I can handle you better than any of my fuckhead brothers.
Me: Come on, Des. Don’t play with me. I know it’s you. You don’t have to fake being Arsenio. I’m so over alphas right now. I need you. I’m lonely, and my mom always told me betas were best for comfort.
Sexy Beast: Seriously, Kinsey? It’s Enzo. Why you gotta fuck with my head?
Me: Oh, Enzo. I had no idea. I’m sorry. The contact said Sexy Beast. I thought you were Dickhead.
Sexy Beast: Dickhead? That’s Wilder. Plus, none of my brothers would ask you your favorite dessert or ensure it gets to you. Don’t you think Sexy Beast is more fitting anyway? I mean, look at me.
A photo pops up on the screen with Enzo pulling up his shirt to reveal his abs. I glimpse the table he stands in front of, catching sight of a collection of mini desserts like cupcakes, fruit tarts, and chocolate truffles.
Me: You’re blocking the real goods. Can I have a picture of the desserts?
Sexy Beast: …
Me: You asked me what kind of dessert I like.
Sexy Beast: Damn it, baby. Your teasing is going to get us both in trouble.
I can’t stop the smile stretching across my face. I wish I could see his reaction. I know he’s fishing for a compliment, but I refuse to give him one. Not now. I know that it’s Wilder who commanded I get locked in this bathroom, but Enzo hasn’t even come by. I shouldn’t hold it against him, except I know better than to take his bait. I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing or if he’s just messing with me because he’s bored.
The phone buzzes and another picture pops on the screen with Enzo lying on the table with two cupcakes resting on his pecs. I flush and laugh, enjoying his teasing way too much. Setting the phone down, I decide not to respond. I can’t. The emotions coursing through me feel too good, and I don’t want any part of this madness. I just want out of this fucking room, and if he wants to know what kind of dessert I like, he can come here and talk to me face-to-face.
The phone buzzes again with another picture in the message.
Sexy Beast: What about this?
Enzo stands shirtless behind the table, the deep V of his hips drawing my attention to where the red velvet cake blocks the view of his naked body. Heat blossoms between my legs, and I squeeze my eyes shut and set the phone down, once again not responding.
Sexy Beast: Baby?
Why do I keep torturing myself by looking? It’s as if something draws me in and restrains me. I shouldn’t feel this attraction toward Enzo, but I do. And he feels it too, because I know he wouldn’t call me anything other than Kinsey otherwise.
Sexy Beast: U OK?
This time, I slide the phone away and watch it smack against the cupboard beneath the counter. I turn over and lay back down on the makeshift bed, pulling the throw blanket and towels over me.
The phone buzzes again and again. My lack of response must be driving Enzo crazy. It drives me crazy too. I just...I can’t deal with this. His flirting is getting to me in a good way. I know better than to allow him in.
Muffled voices sound from outside the bathroom, and I remain in my spot, pulling my knees to my chest. Something crashes. Glass shatters again. I tense, half-expecting the door to explode off its hinges.
“Get out!” We both know you can’t be here,” Arsenio hollers, his voice booming through the door.
“I don’t fucking care!” A bang sounds on the door with Enzo’s words.
A couple more thuds startle me. Curling in on myself, I train my eyes on the door, waiting for it to crash down with the fight between Arsenio and Enzo. My heart races, the anticipation as painful as the not knowing what to expect. Footsteps grow louder, and I quickly turn over, facing my back to the door.
Silence blankets over the commotion, and the door creaks open, the soft whoosh making me hold my breath.
I expect Enzo to come tiptoeing into the bathroom, but it’s not him. I’ve already become accustomed to his scent and the fresh minty, woodsy fragrance. It’s not Desmond or Wilder either. It’s Arsenio. I guess he won the fight with his brother.
“Kinsey, it’s me. I’m sorry for the commotion with my brother. I hope we didn’t scare you. Things are a bit tense right now.” The scent of apples wafts through the bathroom, Arsenio’s fragrance captivating me. It’s more intense than before...or I’m more aware. He surprisingly doesn’t act gruff and distant like I expected.
