“I’m going to make out with you to both make your ex jealous and show her you’re off-limits. Do you consent?”
He gapes, then mutters in a dazed tone, “Am I dreaming?”
“Does it matter?”
“Good point. No, it doesn’t matter. Yes, I consent.” Shawn sounds ready, but I don’t think he is. Not for my best friend to shove him against the closest glass wall and plaster herself to him. Lips, tits, hips, and all.
“Against the window?” George closes his eyes with a shudder, andI get the sense it’s more about the proximity to heights than the raunchy PDA.
Shawn may have been shocked at the initial burst of aggression, but he catches on fast. Our group watches as he wraps his arms in a tight embrace around Darla’s waist and lifts her a few inches off the ground so their mouths are level.
As much as I love my brother and want Tiffany to leave him alone for good, I could have gone my whole life without seeing him suck face and been totally fine.
Shawn, on the other hand, looks like he might die if this stops.
I hope this doesn’t ruin him.
There’s a gasp behind me, and the three of us not in a heavy petting session turn in time to observe a furious Tiffany glaring at the couple. She lets out a few sputtering noises, then stomps her heel like a toddler in a tantrum before stalking away.
George, Tasha, and I face one another, then collectively glance at Darla and Shawn, who I’m not sure are even aware she left.
“Should we tell them Tiffany is gone?” Tasha asks, her voice low.
Another collective glance, then away. Belatedly, I realize that George and Tasha are waiting for my opinion. As if I’m the final say on what happens between the lovebirds.
Whether or not anything develops between Darla and Shawn is entirely on them, in my opinion. I have no idea if they’d be good together.
I just hope that whatever happens doesn’t hurt either one.
And the fact that the kiss is still going tells me neither one really wants it to stop.
“They can figure it out.” I shuffle away, and after sharing a sibling-like smirk, George and Tasha follow my lead.
Chapter
33
When I actuallyneed to use the bathroom a short while later, I go on my own. But I make the trip quick, not wanting to leave George alone at the venue that threatens to give him hives. The fact that this event is happening here has me wondering how many people know about George’s fear of heights. Is it something he normally keeps quiet? Keeps to himself?
Does him telling me mean that I’m special to him, the only one special enough to know?
Maybe it makes me heartless, but I kind of like that.
I stroll down the hallway heading back to the main area, only to hear a familiar voice, full of agitation.
George’s voice.
“This isn’t something that we need to talk about.”
I stop in my tracks, my footsteps silent on the rug beneath my feet.
“Don’t be naive.” The second voice is low, less familiar. “Your actions affect more than just you. What you do and who you fuck affect the company.”
Well, who George is fucking is me. Which means that this conversation is related to me. And, therefore, I don’t feel bad about inching closer to what I now see is a side room with the door cracked open.
Through the thin opening, I spy George, his jaw tense and his eyes icy. Across from him is Mr.Bunsen, who looks like an older version of the man I’ve fallen for, only with a comb-over and a flushed face. But what shocks me most about the group in the room is that my father is a part of it. Karl Newton stands beside his business partner, arms crossed, glaring at George as if he has any right to be angry at the wonderful man who has treated me with more respect than he ever has.
“If you wanted to make Annabel jealous, you should have brought someone more impressive,” Karl says, a sneer in his voice.
