Then I feel a heated stare my way. So I glance up, and yep, there she is.
Kaye. Arched brow. Soda flute in one hand. Looking at me like she just skimmed my internal monologue and is debating whether to smirk or slap me. She crooks a finger at me.Shit. I glance left. Then right. Too many people. No escape route.
When I meet her eyes again, she taps her heel twice. In Kaye-speak, that’s “don’t make me call you out, Stan.”
Fine. I drop my fork, wipe my mouth, and follow her through drunk cousins and cartel-tied groomsmen until we reach a quiet alcove.
She leans against the carved railing, sipping her soda. “Took you long enough,” she says.
“I had meat in my mouth,” I say back. “And manners.”
She snorts. “You haven’t had manners since I rode you in a booth at that biker bar.”
I lean on the wall beside her. “Well, I had to recover. Still walk with a limp when it rains.”
“I should’ve left you limping.”
“I was ready to propose.”
“Youcried.”
“Ichoked,Kaye. On your thighs.”
She snorts out another laugh.
There’s some silence after that, and it makes me think of that one night we had. It was so good it had me looking for her, but Kaye knows how to hide when she needs to.
She speaks up. “I heard you’re thinking about going on that ship.” No preamble. She just cuts straight through one of my favorite NSFW daydreams—her grabbing my collar and calling me a good boy.
I sigh. “No ‘how’ve you been’ or ‘you look stunning in that tux’? Frankly, I’m offended.” I pout. “Didn’t realize I had to get permission to pack my bags for a cruise you’re paying for.”
“Oh,please, you’ve been mentally packing since Elle wore her engagement ring.”
“I was mentally packing since she borrowed Sterling’s flannel and never gave it back.”
Kaye cocks her head. “So that’s what broke you? A flannel?”
“That flannel saw me naked. It should’ve been burned in a ceremony.”
She giggles. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”
“Takes one to ride one.”
“For a guy who flirts with death,” she says, smirking, “you moaned like a soprano when I rode you.”
I slap a hand over my heart. “You remember our night together that well?”
“Oh, Stanley. I still get echoes in my thighs when I take the stairs too fast.”
I wheeze a laugh. God, I needed that. Morbid humor’s my favorite drug. Probably the only thing holding my fractured ego together.
Kaye eyes me, more serious this time. “So you’re really considering going on that ship?”
I shrug. The words come out of me sarcastic. “Yeah, why not?Open sea, syringes, and science. Real relaxing getaway.”
She shakes her head. “Do you even know what you’re signing up for? Long days floating on the Red Sea. Run by the Adels and their neuroscience golden girl.”
“Apparently, she’s brilliant and emotionally unavailable, so my exact type, but with a PhD.”
