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I practically swallow my tongue at his threat, praying he can’t read my mind because my hands? Yeah, I’d like them to be all over his little sister, but I won’t. Owen shrugs as he follows Max. “Just don’t make her your rebound,” he laughs, punching my shoulder lightly.
“I’m here to relax, man.” I turn to Zoey, who’s assessing me with a curious expression, looking like she has so many questions. Standing in front of her, blocking out the guys behind me so we can privately have this conversation, I lean in. “Contrary to what you think, I’m here for this weekend, it isn’t to hook up with a bunch of women. It’s to relax. I won’t interfere with any reasons you’re here either, but I’m happy to room with you,” I say, holding her intense stare. Whatever look I give her seems to have her relaxing, her shoulders dropping to a normal height.
“Good. Glad we’ve cleared that up.” She nods, pats my chest and turns toward the lifts. I shake my head, wondering how I’m going to survive the blue balls I'm inevitably going to get by staying in a suite with Zoey Bancroft.
Chapter 4
Zoey
Thesuitelivingarea,which is as big as my London flat—no, actually, it’s bigger—has enormous floor-to-ceiling windows with amazing views of downtown Vegas. I whistle and marvel as I spin around the space, modern décor, gold furnishings, and artwork that probably cost more than my parent’s mansion. A bottle of Cristal chills in a bucket on the dining table as I run my fingers over the glass top and spot the complimentary VIP pool cabana reservations. I know I grew up with parents who liked to throw their money around, but I’ve not realised just how much my brothers like to do it, too.
I look out the windows as daytime Vegas bustles below us when I feel a warmth to my right. For a split second, I forgot I was sharing with Harrison. But how is that possible? The man is right here, taking up all that oxygen I’m trying to hold on to. It doesn’t matter that I practically claimed him downstairs. I don’t know Nate and Aaron that well, but I can already tell they want to get laid this weekend, and I’m not interested in being around for that. But Harrison seems different. Yeah, sure, he flusters me a little bit for whatever reason, but he seemed like the best choice. In reality, we shouldn’t end up getting under each other’s feet too much because of the sheer size of this place.
“Have you been here before?” Harrison asks, awakening me from my gawping state.
“I haven’t. Not travelled to the US much. I’ve only ever been to New York. I’m not my parent’s favourite child, remember? They don’t like to throw money at me anymore. They still control the boys. I’m a wild card, a free agent, a nightmare in their perfect lives.” I internally cringe.Wow, that took a turn quickly. I never share that much information with anyone, let alone ex-crushes who I’m now sharing a suite with, but here I go, running my mouth.
Harrison chuckles. It’s deep and throaty and completely satisfying to hear. “I know I’ve known your brothers longer, but I already like you more than those two goons.”
I blush uncontrollably hard because did he just compliment my crazy? “Oh, thanks. I’ve always been this way, so I guess it’s good you like me because I don’t plan on changing it.”
I can’t quite figure out the look that crosses over Harrison’s handsome features. It seems to be a mixture of happiness and confusion. I think I could spend a long time watching him because he seems like an enigma. He doesn’t seem to be a fuckboy, or a party animal from what he said downstairs. He seems kind of serious and quiet, and like I said, has that whole mountain man, axe wielding exterior. I mean, he has done nothing to tell me that he has an axe or has ever held one, but my imagination likes to run wild, so I’ve pictured him topless, sweaty and throwing an axe down to chop wood almost every hour since he boarded the plane.
“You okay? You zoned out.” Harrison shifts on his big feet.Seriously, now I need to know if the saying is true: big feet…big socks.
“I’m good.”Just picturing the size of your cock, and what would happen if I ran my fingers through your hair?“Tired.”
“I find it hard to believe you ever get tired. Even as kids, you used to run circles around us.”
“I remember…”I remember you being the cutest boy I’d ever seen in my life, I think to myself as all these memories come crashing back to me. The way I used to hope I could find a shooting star and make a wish to be older, so he’d finallysee me. The way he used to help me climb the tree in our garden, or how he’d always bring me a Diet Coke when he knew I wasn’t allowed them after dinner. God, I really dropped the ball not recognising my own childhood crush. Especially since now, all I can think of is how good he was to me back then. I flick my eyes across the room, not taking anything in but feeling the need to avoid eye contact with him. “You three always acted like you were too cool to hang around a little girl with wild blonde hair and an attitude problem, I was like the annoying fly buzzing around you all.”
He guffaws. “I remember youwerea little handful. But you were joined at the hip with Max. Even when he brought a girl around, he never ignored you. It was sweet.”
It doesn’t escape me thathenever ignored me either, but I smile anyway. “I’m glad I have them,” I say a little too sadly than I mean to. He cocks his head at my melancholy, but I continue to smile through it and do what I do best, divert the conversation. “Speaking of women, you gonna tell me about your ex, or do we need more time to get acquainted?”
“I… I don’t see the point in wasting more energy on her,” he says, his tone full of frustration.
I shrug, acting as though I’m fine with his reply, when really I’m planning ways to get it out of him eventually. “Okay. Message received. Shall we check out the rooms?”
He nods, brushing his hand across his beard-clad chin, and the way his arms flexes with the tiny action sends all the wrong kind of thoughts directly to the apex of my thighs.
Down, kitty.
I walk ahead of him because seeing his perfect arse might just send me tripping over and hoping his dick will catch me, and I’m classier than that.Ha—yeah, right. I’m not, but I like to think I can exercise restraint with my new temporary roommate.
We walk around a corner, passing the giant TV opposite the sofa, and find the first bedroom with a king-size bed, yet another giant TV, and a walk-in wardrobe that leads to a, yep, you guessed it, marble bathroom.
“You good with this room?” The low timbre of Harrison’s voice vibrates around me.
“I’m good with this room,” I repeat, not turning to face him but walking into the bathroom as he lingers in the doorway. “I’m going to take a shower. Get rid of the plane on me. Can you find out what the boys are doing?” I ask, closing the door and standing against the cool wood for a second. My eyes close, and I take a breath. Resisting Harrison is going to be a full-time job.
I wiggle out of my shorts, undressing as I walk towards the bathroom.
The shower cools my over-heated body down, leaving me feeling much more relaxed and in control. When I enter my room, the floor-to-ceiling windows grab my attention, and I walk over to marvel at the Vegas Strip. It’s filled with people milling around, and performers everywhere. I smile because in the distance there is nothing but desert, and I find it so strange that such a busy place filled with so much life is just plonked right in the middle of a desert.
A knock on my door breaks my gaze. “Yeah?” I ask.
“Boys and I are heading down to the VIP pool. There’s a reserved area, so you just need to tell them you’re with the Bancroft party. See you down there?” Harrison says from the other side of the door.
