“Shut up,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
Josh is twenty. Youngest of the crew, and it shows.
“C’mon, that was funny.”
We clink glasses. A round of cheers. Officially, we’re here to celebrate the bar. The place is crushing it—better than we expected when I fronted the capital. But honestly?
The food excuse was just that—an excuse.
I wanted to see her.
Make sure she was still real. Still here.
It’s been a wild year. Fame. Wealth. Constant motion.
And there’s something about seeing the girl you never had the nerve to talk to in high school that makes you feel grounded in the strangest way.
My eyes drift to Faith again.
Then to Keith.
And even though I shouldn’t—especiallybecause I shouldn’t—I start to wonder.
What kind of sex do they have?
Is it quiet and missionary, just like him? Or does she cry out his name, grip the sheets, fall apart in his arms?
A hot pulse kicks in my gut.
I shouldn’t think about her like that.
But I do.
Because deep down, I know something I shouldn’t admit out loud:
If she weren’t wearing that ring?
I wouldn’t just look.
I’d ruin her for every man who came after.
Above all, though, the thing that draws me in—and the reason I can’t stop staring—are her eyes.
Lively. Kind. Curious.
The kind of eyes you want to unpack, slow and careful, just to learn what thoughts they’re hiding.
And lately, I hope some of those thoughts aredirty.
“So.” Ty has this shit-eating grin and I get a feeling he’s got something on his mind. “You guys ready for next Saturday?” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.
“You mean ready for the sex club?” I say—loudly, because why not?
“Bro, keep it down,” Sheldon hisses.
“Yeah, I’ll definitely keep it down about thesuper secret sex club five miles outside of townyou guys want to drag me to. What if someone hears? We might getgaspjudged.”
Sheldon cracks up. “You’re such an asshole, man. I’m serious. This place is invite-only. You say the wrong thing to the wrong person, and the whole restaurant will head to that place to find out about it.”
