I’m still damp from the shower, wrapped in a towel, and Bryttni and Summer are off doing whatever the hell might be involved in a “makeover.”
I remember watching a stupid reality show once, where a frumpy girl gets turned into a hottie, and the transformation was pretty shocking.She didn’t even look like the same person.So I have no idea what something like that might do to Summer.
She’s already perfect.You can’t improve on perfection.So it’s probably not going to make much difference what Bryttni decides she needs.As long as Summer doesn’t come back here with giant woolly mammoth eyelashes, ’cause then I’d have to laugh my ass off.
The truth is, Summer doesn’t need anything added to everything she already is.She won’t get better with new clothes, or something done to her face or her hair or whatever.I don’t want her to be different.I want her to be my Summer.
I just want her.
Oh.
Shit.
I plop down on the walk-in closet’s leather dressing bench and cradle my face in my hands.Something is seriously wrong.Something has changed, all of a sudden and all the way.
When I saw Kirk the Smirk hitting on her, I nearly lost my fucking mind.I don’t want him anywhere near her.I don’t want anyone anywhere near her.
I’m not usually that guy.Up until right now, I’ve always believed that a woman is allowed to be with anyone she wants.If she decides she’s found someone better than me, then have at it, babe.
Except for Summer.She isn’t allowed to find someone better than me.She’s supposed to open her eyes and see me standing in front of her and know that there’s nowhere else she belongs.
My feelings for Summer have never smacked me upside the head the way it’s doing right now.Yes, I always had feelings for her, but I was able to keep them roped off and labeled as pointless.
But not today; not at this moment.And I have to act.
I jump up from the bench and tell myself to get my shit together.I need to find a way to let Bryttni down easy while I figure out how to pull Summer closer and tell her how I really feel.
I go to the bathroom and slap moisturizer on my face and body, then rub some molding paste on my palms and rake it through my hair.
I need a haircut.It’s shaggy enough that it touches my shirt collars now.And I should probably shave but decide I don’t want to.I’m good the way I am.
It’s funny how I don’t look a damn thing like the kid who enlisted in the Navy and then spent years dotting every “I” and crossing every “T” in his determination to make it as a SEAL.Following the rules was never easy for me, but I did it with a smile because anything less was never an option.
I could not, under any circumstances, fail the brothers who went before me: Cal, Finn, and Evander.And I had no choice but to lead by example for the baby of the family, Special K.
As my tattoo says,Vincere Vel Mori—To Conquer or Die.
That boy was a lifetime ago.
These days, I look like a Nevada rancher with too much disposable income.A tech bro.A pilot.A dude who doesn’t have to live according to anyone else’s rules and regs, which is exactly how I like it.
So why have I allowed myself to become a prisoner in Summer’s “friend” jail?What have I been thinking all these years?
My phone rings.I see it’s a FaceTime call from Cal and roll my eyes.
I tap the power button.“What?”
“Nice greeting,” Finn says.
“I’m busy.”
“You’re naked,” Special K says.“Are we interrupting something?”
“Yeah.Fuckity-bye.”
“Hold up!”Cal doesn’t sound happy.“I just heard you called our investigations agency to look for Evander.We already did that, asshole.You could have at least checked with us.And anyway, the whole point of Summer diverting you to Las Vegas was so that we’d have boots and eyeballs on the ground.”
I laugh.“We’ve been dragging our boots and eyeballs all over this city and came up empty-handed.”
