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Choosing to disregard Lily altogether, I give Mason’s hand a pull. “Are you coming?” I ask him, and he drags his gaze away from Lily to look down at me.
“You go.” He nods at Chelsea. “I will be there in a minute.”
My eyes skate back and forth between Mason and Lily, reluctant to leave him alone with this she-devil. “I can wait,” I insist and try to retrieve my arm out of Chelsea’s viselike grip.
He leans down and places a kiss on my lips. “Go have fun, baby. I won’t take long.”
“You sure?” I look up at him, searching his eyes. What it is that I’m actually searching for, I don’t know, but before I can think it through further, Chelsea gives my arm an almighty tug and drags me through the crowd. I look back, and he gives me a reassuring smile before disappearing from view.
The denin Nate’s house is huge. Large windows stretch along the wall looking out to the backyard with sliding French doors that open onto the deck. There is a pool table and Ping-Pong table in the center of the room and a full-service bar on the far back wall alongside a dartboard and pool cue rack.
Cheers ring out as Cadence lands her ball in the cup, and she spins around, wrapping her arms around James’s neck while Grayson leans against the bar, his gaze burning into James like he is trying to melt his face off with his eyes.
I spot a very inebriated Big Boy standing at the foot of the table. His large frame is swaying back and forth as he holds the Ping-Pong ball in front of his face, confusion etched on his face as if he can’t quite figure out why it’s not cooperating and landing in the cup like it’s supposed to.
Chelsea wasn’t kidding. Big Boy is definitely three sheets to the wind and as soon as he spots me, he gives me a lopsided grin. “Ava!” His hand motions in a come here gesture. “Be my lucky charm, beautiful?”
I walk over, and he pulls me into his side, wrapping his tree trunk of an arm around my shoulders. “I think you’ve had enough, Big Boy” I pat his stomach affectionately.
“I was just warming up!” he slurs, staggering back and pulling me with him.
Jesus, the guy weighs a ton.
Wrapping my arm around his waist, I do my best to hold him steady. “Come on, Big Boy.” I steer him toward the sofa in the corner. “It’s halftime which means you get to have a break.”
“Halftime?” His forehead creases as we move to the sofa at a snail’s pace, his two-hundred-pound frame bearing down on my shoulders as he leans on me for support.
“Yes, and after you have rested, you can play again.”
He tries to sit down but misses the sofa by a mile and plonks down in front of it with a heavy thud, leaning his head back on the cushions with a groan.
“Who am I supposed to play with now?” Cadence whines.
“I will play.” Grayson slams his beer down and pushes off the bar, then stomps over.
James cocks a brow, and Grayson glares right back at him. Cadence bounces around, oblivious to the pissing match going on between the two men standing next to her, and I feel as though I should have a bucket of popcorn on hand as I watch the show unfold.
As they play the game, James is all over Cadence, finding any excuse to touch her while Grayson counters the challenge by getting more touchy-feely and attempting to lure her away.
“Yes!” Cadence lets out a squeal when her ball lands in the cup and James spins her around, crashing his lips to hers. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him back. If I thought Grayson was pissed off before, that is nothing compared to now. His face turns a deep shade of red, and acting on impulse, he throws the Ping-Pong ball at them. It hits James square on the forehead, ricocheting off and bouncing onto the floor.
James breaks the kiss and looks at Grayson with eyes wide as saucers.
“What the fuck?” Cadence gasps, turning to face Grayson with an incredulous look.
Grayson shrugs nonchalantly. “Oops.”
“Oops?” James snarls, steam billowing out of his ears. “What the fuck is your problem, man?”
“My problem is your filthy paws all over my girl.” Grayson stalks over to him.
“I’m not your girl,” Cadence fires back.
James pulls Cadence to the side and squares his shoulders as Grayson advances. “You heard the lady; she’s not your girl.” Folding his arms across his chest.
“She’s not yours either.”
James lets out a weary sigh, uncrossing his arms and raking his fingers through his short hair. “Look. I don’t want any trouble, kid.”
