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Beck shrugged. “They’re twenty-five, West, not fifteen. I’m sure they get cocktails and laugh over stuff from time to time.”
Hearing their ages should’ve reminded me of yet another reason not to stare at Emmy and lust after her—she was more than a decade younger than me.
And yet, my eyes still latched on to her. She wore tight-fitting dark-blue jeans and a black tank top, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The clothing revealed every curve and valley of her body, and the final piece of torture? Black cowboy boots.
Fuck, she was like my fantasy come to life.
“You might want to wipe that drool from your chin, brother.”
I tore my gaze from Emmy and glared at Beck. “You’re annoying as fuck, asshole.”
“And you love me anyway.” He stood. “Come on. I’m feeling lucky tonight and plan to beat your butt at pool.”
Needing the distraction, I stood, and we headed over to the empty pool table. Maybe I’d catch a break and Emmy and the BFF Circle wouldn’t notice I was here.
I ordered another beer and concentrated on the game. Yes, beating my brother was the most important thing right now. Because then I wouldn’t stare at Emmy, walk over, and make a fool of myself.
ChapterThirteen
Emilia
Katie:Let’s celebrate Amber’s news at The Watering Hole tonight!
Amber:Hey! I haven’t shared that yet with Millie and Abby.
Katie:Oops.
Amber:
Me:What news? I’m hurt Katie knows but I don’t.
Amber:She came into the bakery, and you know how she is.
Katie: Sorry not sorry.
Abby:Well? I might have to friendly-kidnap you if you don’t spill.
Katie:Hey! I want to friendly-kidnap first.
Me:What is friendly-kidnapping?
Amber:Stop with the friendly-kidnapping! My stepmom is finally giving me the bakery.
Me:Congrats!
Katie:The Watering Hole then? I promise not to try and friendly-kidnap any of you tonight too.
Me, Amber, and Abby:
Inoticed West as soon as we entered The Watering Hole but did my best to avoid his eye.
A few months ago, it would’ve been easy to ignore him and pretend he didn’t exist. And yet, it took everything I had not to stare at him as he bent over a pool table, his jeans highlighting a very firm, round butt. A butt I itched to dig my fingers into to keep him close as he fucked me.
Stop it right now.
While Amber would never have brought it up—after all, she hated being teased about Zach Wolfe—Katie had no problem whistling and then saying, “That’s the finest ass I’ve seen in a while. Don’t you agree, Millie?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to both deny it and ask her to call me Emmy, but I resisted. Instead, I sipped my margarita before saying, “You said the same thing about that tourist you flirted with last week, when you were giving a tour of your family’s place. The one who bent over to pick up something and who you shamelessly checked out.”
