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“Between her thighs? That’s an odd place to plan a wedding.” I laugh, and his face turns beet red. “Don’t worry,babe,” I mock, “it’s all in the past. Now, I better mingle. We wouldn’t want gossip columns to start spreading lies, would we?” I kiss his cheek, seeing the flashes of cameras and hearing his sharp inhale. For a moment, his familiar scent calls me home before it’s twisted by all the pain he caused.
He used to smell like home, but now his scent is just bitter and painful and makes me sad.
“It’s good to see you, Tucker. Enjoy your night.”
I leave him staring after me, calling my name as I step into the crowd.
FOUR
Iwake up way too hungover. My head pounds, and my body feels shaky and hot. I take a quick shower, and without bothering to dress or dry, I head downstairs. I need fresh air, and when I see my pool filled with sunlight, I grin. Heading outside, I stop at the edge of the pool and dive in, letting the slightly warm water wake me up and wash away the night before.
The looks, the lies, the drinks . . .
Those who knew me pretended to be my friends in an attempt to get answers with carefully veiled jokes and questions. I was the center of attention, and it was draining to keep up the facade. The “Oh, let me get your number and keep in touch” remarks, fake smiles, and dumb acts were exhausting.
The booze was good though, so there was that, and seeing Tucker sullenly watch me all night made up for it. There was hunger in his eyes, as well as regret, and I must admit, it felt good. I didn’t come back to hurt him or to get revenge, but damn if I didn’t eat it up. It was the closest he would ever get to my body and heart again, and when I went upstairs with the rapper who had been flirting with me for years, I felt his eyes on me.
He was angry and jealous.
Oh yeah, I had a good time alright. My pussy still aches from that good dick, but I knew better than to stay. I got what I wanted and then I left them high and dry, waiting for a meltdown or a show. They got nothing other than pictures of me drinking, playing, and flirting.
I haven’t checked the news or my phone this morning, but I know the images will be everywhere, and it makes me smile as I dive deeper and then swim back to the surface, pushing my hair back. I leave my eyes closed as I let the sun wash last night away before doing laps. While I was away, I learned that swimming centers me and my mind. I didn’t have my fancy pool then, just a lake, but my heart aches for it for a moment as I remember the trees swaying around it and the slightly uneven wooden dock I spent hours sunbathing and creating music on. It was just nature and me.
Nothing else.
No expectations, no eyes, no judgment.
Just peace.
This is as close as I can get it now, so I push myself harder in the water, sweating out the alcohol. My mind clears as I swim, until my muscles finally begin to ache, and I slow before diving down once more. When I break the surface, it’s at the far end of the pool, facing the house, and I blink.
Standing there are four muscular men dressed to the nines, and they definitely weren’t there when I dived in.
Wiping the water from my face and slicking my hair back, I cock my head and run my eyes over each of them.
The one on the left is literally the biggest bastard I have ever seen in my life. He’s easily over six feet and stacked with muscle, so he either has to be a gym junkie or some sort of military personnel with the way he’s standing, but his hair, which is almost black at the roots but fades to a soft blond at the edges, is longish and tousled wildly around his head, giving him a roguish appearance. His eyes are a deep, dark brown below thick eyebrows. His full lips are framed by a neatly trimmed beard, and he has a nose that’s been broken one too many times. He’s fucking stunning in a rugged sort of way. Wearing a black shirt that clings to his huge pecs and arms, black jeans, and boots, he shouldn’t stand out amongst those dressed in expensive, designer clothes, but he certainly would, and when his eyes run over me and heat, I quickly look away before I get lost in those bottomless depths.
The guy next to him is tall, but not as tall as his friend. Unlike the dark, rugged man, this one is all sunshine. He has bright emerald-green eyes that remind me of the ocean I swam in last year, with vivid red hair and a matching beard. His hair is longer on top and shaved on the sides, and he has tattoos crawling down his neck into his suit jacket. He’s also muscular, just like the first man, but he’s wearing a gray suit that molds to every perfect line of his body. His wide grin shows his straight white teeth and perfect pink lips, and the small scar dissecting the top only enhances it. There’s a playful air about him, and I find myself smiling back.
The man next to him watches me carefully, his face blank and almost cold, but that coldness only adds to his sexy aura. Did I accidentally get drunk and stumble into a house belonging to models? Jesus fucking Christ. His deep, inky black hair is perfectly styled, and his black eyebrows enhance his deep brown eyes, which are surrounded by thick lashes. Unlike the other two, his face is freshly shaven and perfect, with a sharp jaw and cheekbones. Korean maybe? His lips are pursed and so thick that I’m actually jealous. Everything about him is perfectly pressed and sharp, down to his pinstriped shirt and shiny dress shoes.
I drag my eyes to the last man and swallow hard. This definitely must be the wrong house. His olive skin is proudly on display, and he wears a crooked smirk on his thick lips. He has stubble on his jaw with perfect, clean lines, and his dark hair is slicked back. I briefly catch a glimpse of his bright brown eyes with amber flecks before he slides some shades on to cover them before running his hand through his hair. Cocky fuck. I have to admit, though, he’s hot as hell, and his body is perfectly encased in a black button-down, with the buttons undone to expose his chest, and snug blue jeans. He also easily has to be the second tallest.
My eyes run back over them again as I wonder what the hell they are doing in my house. Don’t get me wrong, they are pretty to look at, but I still don’t know them.
The east asian man steps forward.
Rolling back his sleeves with deft, quick fingers, he exposes thick, muscular forearms as he reaches down and offers me his hand. Grinning, I place my hand in his and let him tug me from the water before he steps back. I see him gulp as his eyes drop to my very wet, naked body. I don’t hide myself as I look them over, hearing the olive-skinned one groan.
“God damn, I’m going to love this job,” he mutters.
“Do you greet everyone like this?” the ginger-haired man asks.
Water sluices down my body as I bring my hair over my shoulder and ring it out, still looking them over until the huge one steps forward. “Miss Harrow—”
“Reign,” I correct, pushing my hair back and propping my hands on my hips.
“Reign,” he says, though he seems reluctant. “I am Raffiel, head of your new security team, and this is Cillian.” He jerks his chin at the redhead who winks. “Dal.” The Korean man nods. “And Astro.”
