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“Hmm, yeah, I’ve heard of it. I’ll hook you up when we get back to London.”
Gulping down the casual comment of seeing me in London, I find myself robbed of words, and we manage to fall into a comfortable silence.
Eventually, he speaks again. “Can I ask you something? You can tell me it’s none of my business.” He pauses.
“It probably is none of your business, but ask anyway.”
“You seem passionate about your work. You said only half of your trust fund went to the shelter. What did you do with your other half?” he asks, curiosity marring his face.
“Oh, I don’t actually have all of it yet. Don’t get me wrong, I need it to invest more into the shelter, but my parents have a clause that I either need to be married or turn thirty-five.” My head thumps at the thought of the shelter issues, reminding me that I need to message them to make sure everything is okay.
“Thirty-five? That means your brothers got theirs this week, which makes sense for this trip.” He waves his arms around. “It seems like an outdated notion, though… why bother?”
“Because they live to torture me.”
He nods pensively. That strong, silent aura of his emanating so deeply it’s intoxicating. “One more question, then I’m done with the Zoey interrogation, I swear.”
I laugh, looking at him with a nod. “Go on.”
Clearing his throat, he turns his head to look out at the pool. “Why mountain man?” he asks as I tilt my head back to him.
“Because you’re built like a sexy mountain man with your ruggedness and… beard and muscles.” I gesture wildly at his body as though he won’t know what I’m talking about without my flailing.
He smiles that bright smile again and my belly flip flops. “You think I’m sexy?”
“Less so now.” I roll my eyes playfully, but when I zone in on him again, his eyes are firmly planted on my mouth, and there’s no mistaking what he’s thinking when he licks his lower lip and holds it hostage between his teeth.
“You’re trouble,” he says, growling under his breath. The deep, throaty sound caresses me everywhere, and it’s not nearly enough because Harrison Clarke growling? Ten out of ten in the sounds I’d like to remember for the rest of my life.
“With a capital T, baby.” I wink and watch him watch me. He’s unnerving, and I need to remind myself that sleeping with this beautiful man is a bad idea.
Chapter 7
Harrison
I’mallkindsofexhausted when we get back to the hotel room. It’s not that late, but travel, beer, and sunshine have taken it out of me, and I’d love nothing more than a nap.
“Are you as tired as I am, man?” Max huffs, running his hand through his hair as he flops onto the sofa in the living room.
“I am,” I say, collapsing right next to him. “Why are you here?”
He shrugs. “Owen took a girl back to the room about an hour ago, and I love my brother, but I don’t wanna hear him having an afternoon delight.”
“He did? When? How the fuck did I miss that?” I laugh, sinking further into the oversized, soft.
“He’s a sneaky fucker. Comes across as the quiet, pensive, innocent one, but it’s all a rouse.” Max’s eyes close, and he stretches his long legs out in front of him. “Goddamn, these sofas are comfy. Gonna nap here if that’s cool?”
I nod and go to answer him, but he’s already half asleep, his breathing long and slow. I feel it, too; tired in my bones. I stand, throw a blanket over my best friend, and head to my room. When I pass Zoey’s room, I hear her laughing. She came upstairs before any of us, and I half expected her to be asleep, but I’m guessing she’s on the phone with someone, and I immediately wonder who. I haven’t asked if she’s seeing anyone but a catch like her. It’s highly unlikely she’s single.
Thumping my tired feet into my room, my body collapses face first onto my bed, not even bothering to close the door behind me. I hear my phone vibrate on my bedside table, but I don’t want to think about anything, especially not Vanessa. She’s plagued enough of my time lately and ruined years of my life, and I’m finally in control of the situation, so I’m ignoring thoughts of her indefinitely.
I wake to someone shaking me. “Dude, it’s easier to wake the dead than you.” Max chuckles next to me, hands still firmly, trying to shake me awake. I roll over onto my back, groaning as I go.
“Fuuuuuuck, dead arms,” I grumble, trying to move but failing.
“Cock’s not dead though.”
My eyes spring open, and I look down to see that I’m hard, and it’s very obvious through my swim shorts. “Morning wood, like you’ve never had it?” I scoff, adjusting myself, ignoring Max’s sniggers.Fucking child.
