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“How thoughtful,” I say. “But wouldn’t you recognize your own?”
“I don’t know.” He grimaces. “I mean, maybe. But we only really get to see the top of it, don’t we?”
“That’s a good point that I hadn’t even considered.”
“Our ex-girlfriends would have more luck making that kind of identification.”
“Unless they’ve wiped the sight of your junk from their memories,” I say with an arched brow.
“My junk is unforgettable.” Jonas runs a hand through his sun-lightened hair, his liquid steel eyes boring into mine. When he folds in his lips to moisten them and shoots me a grin and a wink, I’m momentarily dazed by his presence.
“Hey,” Jimmy barks at his friend. “Less of the flirty stuff with Allie. We’re not here for that. We’re here so she can find out all our deepest, darkest secrets and publish them for the world to hear.”
“Exactly.” I blink myself back into the moment as Jonas’s eyes trail over my body. I swear it’s like his gaze has fingers that explore every inch of my skin.
“I’m sure Allie can take a little flirting. She must be used to it.”
I’m not, but I’m not about to tell Jonas that.
“So, Allie, you want to ask us some questions?” Stefan moves closer, his gait smooth and considered as a panther. The soft dusting of dark hair across his chest has me feeling all kinds of ways and none of them are professional.
“Truth or dare?” Jonas suggests.
“Now, how would that work?” Jimmy rolls his eyes and bounces on his toes. “Seriously, dude. We’re supposed to be opening up, not taking dares so we don’t have to answer Allie’s questions. That game would fuck up the interview process.”
“No…it’s okay. It could work,” I say, my mind already flashing through the potential. Finding out what they’re not prepared to share would be as interesting as hearing what they are willing to be open about.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m hotter than Satan’s balls.” Carson jogs past and swiftly jumps into the pool, sending a wave of spray over the side. Clay follows him, and then Tom. Jimmy, Jonas, Oliver and Stefan wait to hear what I need from them, which is sweet.
“We can play in the pool,” I suggest. “Might as well keep cool and make the most of the facilities.”
In a flash, the rest dive into the pool and I’m left alone on the side, stifling a smile. Forget feeling like a kindergarten teacher. I’m more like a dog sitter with ten eager puppies.
“We’re done,” a deep voice says from behind me. Theron and Gabe each grip their purple dick replicas in their hands, holding them out to me eagerly. My hands hang by my sides as limp as dish rags because reaching out to take their offerings is a step I don’t know how to take.
“Leave them on the table,” Oliver yells. Maybe he notices my uncertainty or maybe he’s just a born organizer. Either way, I’m grateful.
“And mark them with the first two letters of your name,” Stefan calls. “On the base.”
Both men drift to the table as instructed, and I use the distraction to take a seat on the edge of the pool. Carson’s having none of it, though, and he tugs my legs with his big strong hands until I’m neck deep in the water and pressed against his rock-hard body. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He holds me above water with his hands spanning my waist. Hands that feel huge, strong, and very capable.
“I don’t know, Carson. Is it?” I snap and he laughs, the movement of his body flexing his hands against my flesh.
“It definitely is.”
I reach out for the edge of the pool, and he reluctantly lets me go. “That’s minus one point for you,” I say as I swipe the water from my face and slick back my hair.
“No, baby. Don’t say that.” His hangdog expression is too adorable for me to hold anything against him.
“Is he always like this?” I ask Clay, who nods as he swipes back his wavy blond hair, water droplets spraying out behind him.
“Always. Girls either love him or hate him. There’s nothing in between.”
“Mostly, they love,” Carson grins.
“I’m reserving judgment.”
“Awwww.” Carson presses his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
