The house sat back a little from the road with a circle drive up front paved with bricks. Another drive led around the side of the house—where they arrived. They took the cobbled path to the front door.
“C’mon, yeah?” He gestured that direction and waited for her to catch up. Then he slid her hand into his and she forgot for a minute what she was supposed to do.
Grip his hand, dummy.
He looked at her hand, then lifted his eyebrows.
Crud, she was being a wet fish. She squeezed his hand, met his gaze, and the kaleidoscope of colors all slipped into place. Her breath caught but he didn’t let go. Instead, he rubbed light circles at the fleshy spot between her thumb and forefinger. Was she in middle school again? Because she had a sudden urge to giggle. To blush. But there was something comforting about his touch. Which made no sense at all, but she didn’t care because, for the first time in a long time, she looked forward to what came next.
Tethered together he led the way through the thick wooden front door through the marbled entryway that opened up to a posh gray and black living room. The vibe here was rock star famous. Leather and a shaggy white carpet that looked a little like Rod Stewart’s hair.
“You live here?” she asked. There wasn’t a stray mug, sock, or… anything. The place looked magazine perfect.
“Yeah.” He nodded. Tilting his head to the side. “Kitchen’s this way. Figured we can either order in or cook ourselves? I’m okay in the kitchen, but my American Express is a better chef.”
Hands still linked in a comfortable way that was as if they were always supposed to be like this, right now in that moment. The two of them and only them.
They rounded the corner to a large kitchen. More black—everything was black. Tile floor, countertops, even the appliances. The walls were all a stark, contrasting white.
A shirtless guy with decent abs stood at the counter, pulling a tray from the oven with a mitt.
“Fuck,” he said, dropping it on the counter.
There were pizza rolls and chicken nuggets and a bunch of fried appetizers that looked super yum.
“Shit.” Shirtless guy blew on his thumb.
“Thought you had plans?” Tanner said, gripping Sam’s hand tighter.
Shirtless dude glanced up quickly from the tray and his jaw went slack.
“This is Sam.” Tanner squeezed her hand. “Sam, this is Mach.”
Mach rubbed his hands along his board shorts. He waved. “Hi.”
She waved back. “Hi.”
“Everyone’s here. They’re all in the back,” Mach said, jerking his thumb toward the wall of windows looking over the oversized grassy backyard. The pool area was a solid eighty feet away. Not so close that the pool noise was loud in the kitchen.
Half-a-dozen people currently played a game of water volleyball.
That looked like fun. Though, not as fun as a one-on-one with Tanner.
“Seriously?” Tanner ground his teeth together. The muscle in his cheek twitching as he glanced outside.
Mach held up his hands. “Nothing weird going on. We didn’t know you’d bring home a date.” He glanced at Sam, then at the linked hands between her and Tanner. “He never brings home a date.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sam asked. That was some interesting intel.
“Because you’re special,” Tanner said. Then he turned his attention to Mach. “I’ll take Sam somewhere else.”
“Oh, hell no.” Mach snatched up one of the fried things and tossed it in his mouth. He opened his mouth as he spoke around the food. “Fuck. That’s hot.”
“Yeah, be careful with it. Just came out of the oven,” Tanner said with an eyeroll.
“Everybody’s gonna lose their minds that you’re here.” Mach seemed to attempt to blow on his own tongue.
Uh.
