“Mm-hmm, yep.” Her voice sounds strained, and I look down to see that her face is practically plastered to my chest. I can feel her hot breath against my skin. She’s in one of those tight tank tops she likes to wear to bed and flannel sleep shorts that have no right looking that sexy.
No bra, of course.
Focus.
“Just give me a second and I can—” Before I can finish my sentence, she reaches up and unclasps my watch from my wrist and takes a giant step back.
“I’ll untangle it and get it back to you in a minute.” She turns toward her room.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Um, thanks.”
Then she flees back to the safety of her room.
PRESLEY
It’s times like these that I wish I had more friends. Because right now, I could use some good advice.
You had a friend, Pres, and then you went and married him.
And that is essentially my problem.
I don’t know how to be just friends with Hollis anymore. Sure, I’ve always had an attraction to him. I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous. Seriously fucking gorgeous.
But, first and foremost, he’s always been my friend.
Until Vegas, that is. Until we got married.
Something happened that night that changed—obviously—how I see him, and now that simmering attraction between us feels almost electric. It doesn’t help one bit when he comes barreling out of the shower in nothing but a towel.
God.
That’s a memory that’s going to live rent-free in my mind for eternity. I could feel every hard inch of him pressed against me. Every. Inch. That towel was thin.
I briefly consider calling Zara for help, but that would mean my brother finding out about my recent nuptials, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
I’m not even sure I’m ready to tell my parents.
But it’s a little too late for that now, as we’re heading down the PCH toward Malibu for Sunday dinner.
“You look nice,” Hollis says, breaking the ten-minute-long silent streak we’ve got going.
“Thank you,” I answer, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off my black jeans. I paired it with an off-the-shoulder sweater. It’s nicer than I usually wear for Sunday dinner, but I am hoping it might distract from the obvious awkwardness Hollis and I have between us.
Thanks, partially due to me. Okay, mostly due to me.
After our little “rule talk,” I felt better about the situation. I put myself first and took steps to protect my heart and maybe even our friendship as well.
I woke up the next morning feeling optimistic.
Maybe this crazy idea we came up with could actually work, and I could be platonically married to my superhot friend for three months while he helps me save my family business.
Then I went to work and resumed my deep dive into the bar’s finances. That’s when I realized just how fucked we were.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even realize the car has stopped. I look up to find Hollis staring at me.
“We’re here.”
“Oh.” I see the familiar walkway to my parents’ house just beyond his shoulders. “Sorry. Guess I spaced out for a bit.”
