I shake my head, amused. Yeah, the party will be going long after the parents have gone to bed. That’s for sure.
Madoc had told me the whole story of Dylan and Hunter, and how he almost lost his life to his best friend.
But he was laughing his ass off the whole time explaining it to me too. Apparently, I missed a good fight.
Still, though, it’s hard to think of Dylan and Hunter as old enough for love when they were like eleven the last time I saw them. And Quinn’s older. I can imagine being surrounded by couples will have her dying for someone of her own. I trail my eyes over her bare shoulders, her slender neck…
Why did I come down here?
Her hair is tied back in a high ponytail, flyaways around her face, with the apron covering her swimsuit-clad body. Thank God.
I glance through the clear basement doors, not seeing a soul watching TV or gaming. She’s alone, just the distant laughter of everyone playing and the music above.
“Are you hiding down here?” I tease.
“Yes.”
Why is she cooking? There’s plenty of food on the patio, and she worked all day.
But the thought creeps in… She knows I love her pizza. Maybe she’s making it for me?
She takes the pizza and turns, sliding it into the oven. Her back, bare except for the strings of the bikini top and apron stretches long and slender, looking soft.
And tight and smooth…
My body stirs, heat rising up my neck.
She wears red shorts over the bottoms.
Pulling out a finishing pizza, she rolls a cutter through it, slicing up eight pieces. Everything except mushrooms. My favorite.
She slides a piece onto a plastic plate and hands it to me. My stomach immediately growls. I’ve barely eaten today.
I pick up the scorching hot slice and take a quick bite. Sucking in air, I move it around my mouth so I don’t burn, but the cheese won’t break. It stretches eight inches from my mouth, and I laugh, pinching it off with my fingers.
I chew, the seasoning like a goddamn party on my tongue. “Shit,” I groan.
She leans her elbows on the counter, picking off a piece of pepperoni from one of the other seven slices and pops it into her mouth. “The cheese or the sauce?” she presses.
“Both.”
She grins. “I started putting a pinch of red pepper in the sauce.”
I take another bite despite my tongue being burned. “Don’t make this for either of those dipshits, okay?” I warn her. “I don’t want to wake up in Dubai to your wedding announcement.”
This would put any man in the palm of her hand.
But she doesn’t smile at the joke, just softly holds my eyes in a way that makes my heart stop for a moment.
I bite off another piece, then stuff another in my mouth.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
She shakes her head, chewing. “No.”
“Something good?” I inquire instead.
“Maybe.” She rises up. “But you seem to be on my brothers’ side lately, so I don’t know if I can trust you.”
