The opening party is underway on a large patio overlooking the moonlit beach. By now, every guest has arrived except for Henn and his girlfriend, Hannah (who should be here soon), and Reed Rivers (who changed his flight due to a work commitment and will now be arriving late tonight).
Everyone, including me, is drinking rum punch like it’s water, chatting, and swaying happily to the pleasant Hawaiian tunes being cranked out by a five-piece band. It’s all quite lovely, actually—the perfect environment for me to at least try to let loose, as I promised Josh and Kat I’d do.
I’ve pointedly not talked to Ryan yet tonight, and, in fact, I’ve somehow managed to not even glance at him, but I don’t know how much longer I can resist staring at his beautiful lying face. In fact, the jig is up right now—I gotta look.
I scan the party and locate him talking to a few of Josh’s fraternity brothers—and not three seconds after I’ve glanced his way, Ryan’s eyes meet mine and his entire face lights up. With a tilt of his head, Ryan beams a cocky smile at me, winks, and touches the face of his watch, as if to say, “It’s only a matter of time, baby.”
I look away.Cocky bastard.
Thankfully, Mrs. Morgan approaches and introduces me to some of her family members and I’m drawn into pleasant conversation with some lovely people. Of course, I don’t actually care about these lovely people right now—I only care about peeking over at Ryan Fuckface Lying Asshole Cheating Scumbag Morgan to see what he’s doing now. God, I hate myself for giving a crap what he’s doing. No, actually, I hatehim. What the hell is wrong with me? How can I want to screw a man I don’t even like? A man I don’trespect? Is that how fucked up I’ve become—I’m willing to screw a hot guy just because he’s hot?
Damn straight, I am.
I close my eyes and revel in my sexy memories for a moment. Honestly, I think Ryan’s turned me into some kind of sex fiend after just one time with him. I’ve never felt this horny in my entire life. Wasn’t finally having sex after a year supposed to quench my sexual thirst, not make it worse?
“That’s where you’re from, right, Tessa?” Mrs. Morgan asks me.
I open my eyes and look at her and nod, not knowing what she just said.
“What part?” Mrs. Morgan’s sister asks.
“Of...?” I ask.
“Los Angeles.”
Phew. I got lucky that time, but I’ve absolutely gotta stop tuning out of conversations to daydream about Ryan and his pierced dick.
I answer the questions and we talk about Los Angeles for a bit, and then, thankfully, Mrs. Morgan tells a story that allows me to tune out and think about the look of pure rapture on Ryan’s face when he was moving inside me—the way he gripped my hair and moved his hips so confidently—sopassionately—and, oh, the primal, ragged, near-desperate sound of his voice when he whispered, “Samantha” into my ear. True, it was kinda kinky when he called me that name—but I loved it.
“Hey, Momma,” Ryan says, out of nowhere, accompanied by Colby. He kisses Mrs. Morgan on the cheek. “You look pretty tonight.”
Mrs. Morgan hugs Ryan and Colby while I watch and focus every ounce of my energy on not maniacally shrieking, “I hate you, Ryan! Let’s go fuck!”
“Hi, Tessa,” Ryan says casually. He half-hugs me like he barely knows me (good boy!) and kisses me on the cheek chastely. “You look pretty tonight, too.”
Oh, God, the smell of Ryan’s cologne is filling my nostrils.I want him. I clear my throat. “Hi, Keane,” I say. “Thank you so much. You look nice, too.”
Colby laughs.
Ryan puts his palm on his chest. “Ryan. Keane’s over there in the blue shirt.” He motions to his brother across the party. “And that’s Dax standing next to him in the black shirt. And this is Colby.”
“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry,” I say innocently. “So many Morgans. Forgive me.”
Colby flashes me a huge smile. “You’re not alone in getting us mixed up. Our own mother used to call us by wrong names at least fifty times a day when we were growing up.”
“It’s true,” Louise says, laughing. “I’d say, ‘Ry-Ke-Da-Col-Kitty... whoever you are, get your butt over here and clean up your mess!’”
Everyone in the group laughs.
“Yeah, don’t stress about names,” Ryan says, his eyes locked with mine. “Names are irrelevant, if you think about it. ‘A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.’” He winks.
Whoa. Did Ryan just tell me he’s done being mad about the whole ‘Samantha’ thing? By George, I think he did. And did he quote fromRomeo and Julietby pure coincidence, or as a little nod to the fact that I keep calling him Romeo?
“By the way,” Colby says, extending his hand to me. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Colby.”
I shake Colby’s hand. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”
“All of it true,” Ryan says.
