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As normal a life as one could live being a professional skydiving instructor six months after shattering her hip in a bad landing.
It had also been a while since she’d had any kind of “action” apart from her vibrator. Of course, finding her boyfriend well and truly making out with her physiotherapist—her physiotherapist, of all people—five months ago had contributed to that situation. Although, to be fair, she’d come to realize she’d loved Simon’s butt more than his brain.
Owen Blackthorne had both—butt and brain.
But was he also a cheater?
You’re not planning on falling in love with him, stupido.
Narrowing her eyes at him again, she took another sip of her cocktail. He slowly cocked an eyebrow. The flutter in her belly intensified.
Damn it, why hadn’t she and Elisa and Zeta tee’d up a secret code for “I’m going to be banging my brains out tonight so be prepared if you come home early?”
Sliding her attention to her sisters, she opened her mouth to tell them she was going to show Owen around, wink wink, nudge nudge, when Zeta’s face darkened into a scowl. “Umm…Bri,” Zeta muttered, her stare drilling into the space over Bria’s right shoulder.
Elisa gasped softly, shaking her head. “Is he really coming over?”
“What? Who?” Bria turned, the dog-ears headband on her head taking a second to catch up, and locked eyes with Simon Galston.
Her stomach clenched. He looked good, even wearing a ridiculous He-Man costume. But then he always did like to show off his body, the duplicitous bastard. He unfortunately had an ego to match the size of his cock, which led him to foolishly believe he could do whatever he damn well wanted.
Like coming up to her at a party five months after being caught out.
Prick.
“Umm…” Owen said, even as he seemed to draw a little closer to her side.
Simon flicked Owen a look, somehow puffing up his chest even more like a goddamn peacock, and then slid his attention to Bria. He raked a look over her, raising his eyebrows. “Hey, Bri Bri. We didn’t think you’d come.”
Bria grit her teeth at the “we”. God, why did her ex-physiotherapist have to live in the same apartment building as she did?
That’s why you picked her in the first place, stupido. Proximity.
Unfortunately, that proximity had turned out to be far more convenient for Simon than her.
“Fuck off, Si Si,” Zeta snarled.
Simon shot her a sneer. “I haven’t missed you at all, Zeta.”
Simon had always hated how vocal Elisa and Zeta were about their opinion of him. “Nice costume, Elisa,” he said, smirking at Elisa’s Very Hungry Caterpillar costume. “Going for your intellectual level, I see.”
Elisa flashed a wide, cold smile at him. “Stupido coglione imbroglione.”
He frowned. “What?”
Bria grit her teeth. For all her joking earlier about kneeing him in the balls if she saw him tonight, she was trying to behave herself somewhat. Putting Simon and his wandering dick behind her had been a part of her recovery therapy after the accident, no thanks to her physiotherapist.
Besides, today was only her sixth day not walking on crutches, and her ball-kneeing leg was the one attached to her recently healed shattered hip, and she’d never been the type for clichés.
Still…
“Who’s the dude?” Simon threw a contemptuous thumb at Owen, his attention returning to Bria. “If you’re trying to get my attention, Bri Bri, you could have just sent me a text. You didn’t need to drag some poor guy along just to make me jeal—”
“Ah, screw this,” she muttered. She clamped her gloved fingers around his shoulders and yanked him down hard toward her rapidly upward-striking knee. “Stop calling me Bri Bri.”
The collision was perfection.
He oofed.
