My face twists. “Why are you glistening?”
He grins. “Baby oil.”
I need to move.
“Bailey, so help me God, if you stain the floors again.” I groan, a hand over my face to block out flashbacks of the berries he stomped into the hardwood. Every year, it’s the same thing: me reminding him not to act up, and him finding new ways to cross the line. I don’t want to know who or what he’s doing in his room.
Bread steps into my apartment shirtless in silk boxers and rainboots. “I remember from last time. Why you sulking in your bathrobe? Need a hug?”
It’s a sad day when a man can’t sit in peace.
“I’m not sulking. I’m processing.”
I haven’t seen or heard from Miriam since she hugged me at the airport and hopped into Marcela’s car.
I kissed her.
Tasted her.
Came on her.
I gave in to the will to press my body against hers and drink from her mouth. Miriam doesn’t see herself when she’s turned on. How easily she brings me to my knees with a single look. How could she think she’d be a notch on my belt after all of this time? She should know me well enough to understand how important she is to me.
What happened between us—what’shappeningbetween us—isn’t because of my friendly dick. She’s changing me.
Having her that way was a dream come true. I saw stars and galaxies—shit, the meaning of life—after I released almost two decades’ worth of tension. Imagine my surprise when I thought we’d spend the rest of the night together, only for her to split the brownie we ordered and send me on my way. Her snores floated into the living room, where I was up half the night wondering why it was so easy for her to dismiss me. I gave her my best strokes.
She’s never judged me for the women I’ve entertained. I never brought them up. No one lasted long enough to be relevant in my life. I’m not interested in catching feelings, but here I am, tight-lipped and in my robe—pissed at life.
I miss her, but I’ll respect her space. She made it loud and clear that she regrets what happened in Vegas.
“He’s doing it again.”
I jump back when I find Shins and Bread inches from my face. One looks like he belongs on a ’90s sitcom. The other needs a shower and an exfoliating brush.
Bread’s big head leans closer. “He’s been like this all night?”
Shins nods. “He put on a rom-com too.”
“Bullshit!” I look between the thorn in my ass and the team’s next PR crisis. “Shins found it on TV.”
I forget his character’s name, but the doctor fromGrey’s Anatomyis an idiot. Dude should’ve professed his love to his best friend before she left for Scotland and fell in love with the other doctor from the same show.
Couldn’t be me.
Sure about that?
“Would you give me space?” I kick my teammates away. “I don’t want grease on my couch.”
Bread steps back to study the log-throwing scene on my eighty-inch. He grins. “You miss Maid Miriam.”
I tighten my robe and look away. “She’s safe and breathing. What’s there to miss?”
“The friend he likes and won’t admit it?”
“The one and only,” Bread says to Shins, on his way to my kitchen for God knows what. He pulls open the refrigerator and dips his head inside. “I saw the way you were looking at her all weekend. Shit, we all did.”
“Don’t forget the kiss at the pool,” Shins adds with a proud smile. “You like her, more than any woman we’ve seen you with.”
