Diaz raised his margarita. “To Roman. May his stamina never fail and his STI tests always come back negative.”
We all drank to that, laughter rolling through the room again.
I laughed along, but my mind drifted. Valentine’s Day was four days away and I had nothing planned. No reservations. No locked doors. No coastal getaways.
Just a kiss I couldn’t stop replaying.
I dragged in a slow breath and forced myself to focus on the screen, on Harry and Sally frozen mid-argument, on anything thatwasn’tthe memory of Bella’s hands fisting in my shirt.
Too late.
It hit me like a flash.
Her soft lips parting on a gasp when our lips met. Her nails scraping through my shirt before she pulled me harder against her. Her little, breathy moans, quiet, needy sounds that went straight to my cock, that had nearly driven me to strip her bare on the porch and bury my face between her thighs.
Everything had slammed to a halt the second she’d admitted she was a virgin.
All the blood that had been rushing south had reversed course, flooding me with a wave of protectiveness I hadn’t expected. She had trusted me with something huge, and I wasn’t going to fuck it up by letting hormones take the wheel.
So, I’d pulled back. Reluctantly.
Kissed her forehead like some chaste gentleman, muttered some bullshit excuse about getting rest, and bolted before I could change my mind.
Three days later, I was still kicking myself.
I shifted in the recliner, adjusting my jeans because even the memory had me half-hard. Pink was right there, ten feet away, and I was over here fantasizing about defiling his little sister against her front door.
I took a long pull of my margarita, letting the cold burn ground me.
Patience, King.
Bella was worth doing this right. Even if it killed me.
Diaz nudged my arm. “What about you, King? Got something lined up, or are you pulling your usual single and mysterious routine?”
I shrugged, lifting my glass for another sip. “To be determined. Probably treat myself to some Thai food.”
Roman booed loudly. “The crab rangoon can wait. Come out with me.”
I smiled, noncommittal. “I don’t know. It sounds like your schedule is already pretty packed for the evening.”
He waggled his brows. “There’s always room for one more.”
“Hard pass.”
That earned a few laughs, the conversation drifting back to the movie as Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal performed their iconic rendition of “Surrey with a Fringe on Top.”
I used the distraction as an excuse to stand, heading toward the margarita machine for a refill. I had just finished topping off my glass when Pink appeared beside me, close enough that I could smell the salt on his rim and the faint citrus of his cologne.
“Hey,” he said casually. Too casually.
My shoulders tensed.
“Is there something I need to know?”
Shit. Had Bella said something? Did he have some secret, hidden Ring camera I didn’t know about?
I set my drink down and rubbed the back of my neck. “Look,man—”
