Shane wants attention, though I can’t understand why. He’s the groom. Isn’t he at the center of everyone’s attention, second only to his bride?My sister. In this moment, I would love nothing more than to send a heartfeltfuck youdirectly to Shane’s face. But not for me. ForSienna. For the disrespect he’s showing herandtheir relationship.
“Hey Shane,” Klein says, nonchalantly throwing a few blueberries in his mouth, “You keep going on like that about Paisley and I’ll break your jaw.” He takes my hand. “Let’s go.”
We leave Shane in the kitchen without a backwards glance. My sister and the rest of the bridal party are crowded on the front porch. One of the groomsmen holds a joint to his lips, then passes it to the guy beside him.
“We’re going to take off,” I tell Sienna. “Can somebody bring you back when you’re ready?”
“Yeah,” she says dismissively.
I have no idea what I did to upset her, and I’m not interested in finding out. There’s so much more on my mind right now.
“Bye, everyone. See you all tomorrow.”
Klein and I make our way back. He drives the golf cart, and I sit beside him, his hand in my lap. What happened in the pantry felt illicit and delightful, but also, it feltright. Like Klein’s hands are the only hands I want on me.
I don’t know what that means for our agreements. Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything. Can it just be us, on this island, having fun because real life feels like it exists elsewhere?
We’re quiet going through the house. Light filters under the door as we pass the boys’ room, and from what I can tell by the sounds, they’re playing video games.
Klein leads me into our room. He closes the door softly behind me, heated gaze locked onto me.
And I kind of, sort of, just...lose it.
I launch myself at him. He catches me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist and his hands gripping my ass.
I lower my face, and he lifts his. We are nose to nose, breathing the same lusty air.
A nip at his lower lip. A pass of my tongue along the bite. A shallow breath. Klein grins, lazy and arrogant and teasing. “You didn’t get enough in the pantry, Ace?”
My fingers thread through his hair.I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you. It’s a stupid thought, and it would be even stupider to admit out loud. “I want that lights-on orgasm you promised me.”
Klein adjusts for our height difference by lowering me down his body, then captures my mouth in a brief kiss. “Then I guess I’d better deliver. Can’t have a broken promise on my record, can I?”
“I get the feeling you don’t break promises.”
“Never,” his deep voice grounds out against me.
Something about his words, spoken clearly and confidently, tells me he’s a man who means what he says. That alone makes me feral. I want him in a way that shocks me. I’ve never been like this before. Klein isn’t my boyfriend. We’re nothing more than temporary as we carry out mutual favors. And yet, there’s something about him. Something primal, basic, a calling. I…wanthim. Is it too plain? Not layered enough? Could it really be so easy?
“Overthinking,” he murmurs, rubbing the pad of his thumb between my eyebrows. “What’s going on in there? Are you having second thoughts?” Now his eyebrows are furrowing. “You can. You know that, right? You can change your mind at any point, even if we’ve already...” he trails off.
I burrow into him. “It’s not that. Not at all. It’s just... does this seem too easy to you?”
Klein squints one eye as he tries to understand. “Are you asking me if I’d like you to play hard to get?”
I smile. “No. Despite the fact we’re here pulling off one hell of a charade, I don’t enjoy playing games when it comes to dating.” With my legs still wrapped around him, I slip one hand around his upper back and use the other to stroke a path through his hair and behind his ear. “Me and you. Physically, it feels so easy. Going down on you earlier today, not only was it bold of me, but it was like I wanted to, so I did, and there wasn’t anything else about it. Mentally is easy, too. Talking to you, joking, laughing, I’m not used to it being simple. Seamless. It’s like, like... sitting with my best friend and never running out of conversation.”
“It was like that the first night we met. Do you remember?”
“I’d assumed it was the copious amount of beer, but that wasn’t it.”
“I felt an immediate and deep connection to you, Paisley. Like your curves fit my dips, and I filled out your shallow parts.”
“Like we fit.”
He nods. “Yes.”
We stare at each other, both painfully aware we are dancing on an invisible line. Physically, we’ve already crossed it. But emotionally? We’re still playing a safe game.
