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“At least you’re living in a mansion now instead of that little apartment.” Robyn grins at me on the screen. She’s back in her place in Austin, curled up on a couch near a bay window. The sun shines on my face and warmth rolls down my spine, and I try not to let thoughts of my grandfather intrude on this nice moment but I can’t help myself. Every time I think about my family, it’s like I’m Wile E. Coyote realizing there’s no ground under my feet.
I sip some iced tea Haleena made. It’s delicious with a bitter aftertaste, and when I asked her what her secret is, she only smiled and saidvodka,and I genuinely don’t know if she was joking or not.
“The place is big and nice but it feels so empty.” I sit on a lounge chair and stretch. “I know, listen to me complain, right?”
“Where’s your future husband? I bet he makes it feel full.”
“If that’s a lewd commend, I will not engage with it.”
“Oh, come on, Brice. I know Carmine wasn’t your idea of a husband but you have to admit he’s good looking.”
I glance toward the house. “Yes, okay, he’s handsome.”
“He’s freaking devilishly handsome. He’s like one of those models you only ever see on TV, except he’s real and in the flesh and sleeps in your bed.”
I close my eyes. I don’t need to hear this right now. Fortunately, Carmine isn’t home at the moment—he’s off interviewing potential security companies—so I don’t have to worry about him overhearing.
Robyn’s right. As much as I hate it, she’s absolutely dead on—Carmine is gorgeous. He’s stupidly attractive in a way that should be shameful. He makes me feel things I never dreamed I’d feel, like when his mouth is down between my legs doing things—
I feel flushed all of a sudden and Robyn laughs. “You’re blushing!” she says.
“I’m not, it’s just hot out here right now. It’s freaking Texas, remember?”
“Come on, tell me you and Carmine haven’t at least—I don’t know, dry humped or something?”
“We haven’tdry humped,” I say, making a face, which is totally true. We haven’t dry humped. We’ve done other things but I’m not about to tell her that.
Robyn’s expression gets a little contemplative as she looks at something off-camera. “I know this hard for you, Brice. I mean, I remember what he was like in college. Remember that softball game? The one where he freaking tackled you?”
“I can’t forget it.”
“Everyonehatedhim for like a few weeks after that. Who the hell would tackle you, of all people? You’re so sweet.”
“I don’t feel sweet.”
“Whatever, you are, and he was such a dick. But he’s got to be older and better now, right? Or at least less of a bastard.”
“I’m not sure if he’s changed much at all. Except he hasn’t tackled me. Yet, anyway.”
“Give him time, he’ll tackle you right into bed. And you might even enjoy it.”
“Stop,” I say, closing my eyes. I take another sip of iced tea and maybe there really is vodka in this stuff, because I say, “We kissed once.”
“Oh my god!” She sits up straight and stares at me. “You KISSED?”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I say, grimacing because I really shouldn’t have told her that.
“It’s amassivedeal. I know you have to marry the guy but nobody said anything about kissing. Did that kiss lead to anything more?”
“Stop. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“You can’t dangle a juicy little tidbit like that and not expect me to freak out. Brice! You kissed him! That’s absolutely huge. Here I was thinking you were probably going to stab him in his sleep before ever giving him children, but apparently I was wrong.”
I laugh at the idea of killing him in his sleep. It hadn’t occurred to me, but it’s not a terrible idea. “He is very attractive though.”
“Oh my god, you’re sick! You’re totally sick. I love it.”
“Attractive or not, Carmine’s—” I grasp for the word and settle on, “Rough. Very rough.”
