“Like”—Cade breaks out into a shit-eating grin—“why are you so intently studying Daisy’s ass like it held the map to the Holy Grail?”
Owen swats me over the leg with his stick. “Because it does. Daisy is smoking, and Jet’s vision is twenty-twenty when it comes to beautiful women. What’s going on at the house? She’s opening up to you?”
Like a flower. “No.” It’s true. The most honesty I’ve received from her verbally has come by way of grunts, and, ironically, those are by way of coming. “She’s quiet.” Mostly. “She keeps to herself.” When she’s not keeping with me. “She’s going through a tough time. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. I’m giving her all the space she needs.” And closing in the gaps of her every orifice after midnight.
Now it’s my turn to give a shit-eating grin.
The girls come back with two drinks each. Daisy hands me something red and fruity, and I’m slow to take it from her.
“What the heck is this?” This is the type of drink that acts as a signal to my dick, sort of a compass of where it needs to go on nights I was picking girls up from the bar.
“Strawberry daiquiri. My favorite.” She gives a little wink while taking a sip of her own.
“Thank you.Unlike some people, I say those words freely.”
“On that note!” Piper grabs ahold of Owen, and they head into the main room. Scarlett and Rex take off, but not before he shakes his head at me in disapproval. Cassidy clicks her tongue and gives Daisy a look that screamsget the hell away from that jackass. Cade just keeps grinning like he has all the answers to this deranged puzzle as the two of them take off.
“Now look what you did.” Daisy scoffs, leaning against the pool table.
“You and your fruity drink did this.” A genuine smile bleeds through, and I don’t stop it. Something about the situation makes me want to grin like an idiot. I’ve been craving a little alone time with her outside of the house, outside of the bedroom just to see what it’s like. Usually she lobs sarcastic quips at me before managing to bolt, but she still has her tight little ass pressed to that pool table, those pale sky eyes glowering at me as if I stole her mother’s wedding ring, and judging by the fact I have no clue who her mother is, I might have.
“Wow”—she gives an exasperated sigh—“you’re really good at shifting the blame. I bet you’ve spent a lifetime doing just that.”
An image of my father lying crumpled at the base of the stairs flashes through my mind, and I chase it away.
“I always take responsibility for my actions.” I close in and straddle her, caging her in right here in this very public place, just to see what sort of reaction I get. There are very few physical mysteries that remain between Daisy and me, so the fact my crotch is touching hers shouldn’t be all that shocking to her. But emotionally, there are oceans of mysteries floating between us. If her sea of confusion is as deep and unknowable as my own, then there is no chance on Earth we’ll ever wade through them. I want to, though. I want to try to absorb whatever psychological piece she’s willing to give up.
Her irritation with me grows ten times more than before as those glossy pink lips twist with rage. “Are you saying I don’t take responsibilities for my actions?”
“No.” I inch back a notch. Crap. I’ve never put my foot in my mouth so much around another human being before. It’s as if all my tough guy persona, all of my business knowhow and street-smarts vaporize as soon as she’s in the vicinity. As much as I want to play it cool, a part of me is still star-struck that this beautiful girl I’ve crushed on from afar is even remotely interested in climbing into my bed. I’ve never been with a girl I’ve been so infatuated with before. Girls like Daisy are off-limits. But in truth, there haven’t been girls like Daisy. Deep down, she was what I feared most. I know me. Once I’m too intensely involved, I’ll want to stick around. Sticking around isn’t an option. I have responsibilities. I need to be laser focused in on only one girl in my life—my sister, taking care of her emotional and financial needs before I go parceling off another piece of myself. Being with Daisy physically has been a feverish dream, something more than just a fantasy, but having her in my life full-time is out of the question. My gut burns as if begging me to reconsider.
Her chest rises and falls with her next breath. “Because I do take responsibility for my actions.” She bats those forest thick lashes before leaning back and taking a casual sip of her drink. “And step away, would you? I’d hate to shut my prospects down for the night.”
Now it’s my turn to scowl. “I know all about your nightly prospects.”
Her hands fly up to her ears, and a fat drop of strawberry sludge slips right down her cleavage.
“I wouldn’t mind cleaning that up for you.” I lick my lips without meaning to.
“First, that’s disgusting—and second, you do not mention nightly prospects.” Daisy hikes up and gets up into my face. “Speak no evil!”
She’s either batshit or blindsided with lust for me.
“Admit you were enjoying the hell out of yourself.”
Her eyes expand. Her face bleaches out as if I’ve just threatened her.
I graze over her cheek with my thumb as I pull her in with my gaze. “Don’t fight it.”
A series of choking noises emits from her, and oddly enough, it looks as if she’s enjoying the hell out of herself. Daisy stomps down on my foot like she’s killing a spider, shrieking like her hair is on fire before taking off in a fury.
Owen steps back in the room and makes his way over. “What the heck was that about?”
“I think they call it denial.”
“What’s she denying?”
“That I’m not a big hairy spider she can get rid of with the heel of her shoe. What’s up?”
