Is her shirt wet?
My face burns as I scroll through them, each one worse than the last. Someone has already screenshot and zoomed in on Jesse’s hand on my face, and on the way Wyatt is staring at me.
“No, no, no,” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“What?” Boone asks, peering over my shoulder at the phone, his chest pressing against my back in a way that makes me shiver. “Damn. Mrs. Delaney works fast.”
“Very fast,” Jesse agrees, reading over my other shoulder, effectively sandwiching me between McCoy brothers. His breath is warm against my ear when he adds, “That’s actually a great photo of you.”
My body reacts to being pressed between them, and I have to bite backa whimper.
Wyatt snatches the phone from my hands. He scowls at the screen, his jaw clenching in that way that makes me want to trace it with my tongue. God, what is wrong with me?
“This is exactly what I was talking about. This is why this is a mistake.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I protest weakly, even though the photo shows exactly what it looks like. Me, desperate and wanting, surrounded by McCoy men.
“No?” Wyatt holds the phone up so we can all get a good look at the photo, where Jesse and I look like we’re about to tear each other’s clothes off. “I could be wrong, but it looks like you’re about to kiss my brother.”
“You are wrong. I was not about to kiss anyone.” Even though I absolutely was thinking about it. Thinking about kissing all of them.
“The camera says otherwise.” His voice is rough, and when I look up at him, his eyes are dark with something that might be jealousy.
My phone pings again. And again. The notifications are coming so fast, I can’t keep up.
“Make it stop,” I groan, covering my face with my hands.
“Can’t stop the internet,” Boone says cheerfully. “Once it’s out there, it’s out there forever.”
Gee, thanks.
Mrs. Delaney is still snapping pictures, now focusing on Wyatt holding my phone, my obvious distress, and the way the three brothers have unconsciously moved closer to me, protective and possessive.
“This is even better,” she announces. “Love triangle! No wait, love quadrangle! The plot thickens!”
“There’s no love triangle!” I shout, loud enough that Rita startles and tries to bolt again.
“There’s no love anything!” Wyatt adds, his voice harsh, but his eyes are still burning into mine.
“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Delaney says with a knowing smile, looking at my wet clothes and the way all three men are positioned around me, “the photos don’t lie. Chemistry like that can’t be faked. And from the looks of things, you’re all feeling it.”
She climbs back into her golf cart and waves goodbye. “I’ll tag you in the next batch! This is going to be the most popular post in group history!”
As she drives away, still typing on her phone, I want to melt into the ground and disappear in shame. My body is on fire from all this McCoy proximity, I’m basically naked in wet clothes, and the entire town is about to see photos of me looking like I’m in heat.
“My dad’s gonna see this,” I say faintly.
“So’s ours,” Wyatt says grimly, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.
“And the pastor,” Jesse adds, his fingers brushing my hip as he shifts closer.
“And everyone who shops at the grocery store,” Boone says.
“Thank you for the comprehensive list of my impending humiliation,” I snap, but my voice wavers because I’m surrounded by them, drowning in testosterone and heat.
Boone grins and waves at another car driving by, the driver clearly rubbernecking.
“Might as well give them a show,” he says, his hand squeezing my waist. “We’re already front-page news.”
