“Mm.” I shifted so that we were standing close enough that there was no space between us.
“And what might that be?” she whispered.
“Welcome! Is everyone here?” a man said in a loud voice, startling us.
Bryn and I jumped back from each other as if we’d been doing something wrong. I looked at her and she looked at me, each of us biting back a smile.
She turned into my side, and I draped my arm over her shoulder. Everyone was casting us curious glances, including a man I assumed was our guide, judging from his T-shirt with the words “Island Boat Tours” printed on it.
Allie and Kit shuffled in, sunglasses on, energy levels low. I tried not to laugh. After how hard they’d partied last night, I was honestly surprised they were even here. I’d half expected themto stay in their room and not resurface until the rehearsal dinner tonight.
I leaned in, careful to keep my voice low as our guide explained what we could expect. “Maybe Kit will let me borrow his top hat since you seem so intent on stealing mine.”
As the others lined up to sign the waivers, Bryn pressed up on her toes to whisper, “Good luck with that. I’m pretty sure one of the bridesmaids puked in it last night.”
I cringed and reached for my baseball hat, but Bryn grabbed my wrist before I could take it. “Please?” She smiled up at me so sweetly, and then she said, “I’ll pay the price.”
“You don’t even know what it is,” I said.
Everyone filed out to board the van, some with more energy than others. Bryn grabbed her bag as she headed for the door. I was so distracted by the sway of her hips, her ass, that I nearly walked into a chair.
Jesus. Get it together, man.If I wasn’t careful, I was going to injure myself.
“Whatever it is—” she grinned at me over her shoulder “—I’m game.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“You missed a spot,” Allie said, pointing at a place on my back.
I glanced over my shoulder, down at my side. After a short bus ride, we’d reached a small town where we’d be boarding the boat to Little Bay. The group had dispersed to use the restrooms and purchase souvenirs and snacks before we boarded the boat. I’d meant to put sunscreen on earlier, but I’d been a little distracted.
“Here,” Bryn said, stepping closer. “Let me help you.”
Her eyes were shielded by her sunglasses, the brim of my baseball hat casting a shadow across her face. She’d held my hand on the ride over, making conversation with her sister and the other guests as if it were all perfectly normal. As if our being a couple was nothing out of the ordinary.
I wanted to feel hopeful about our future, but I worried that, for her, it was all pretend.
That said, Bryn had been flirty. Affectionate. And not just when we were with her family. She’d been just as demonstrative when we’d been alone in our bungalow this morning, even when no one else was watching. Even when there had been no need to act like a couple.
She smoothed her hand over my shoulder, down my side. I inhaled slowly and let it out just as slowly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. She circled me so she was standing before me, drinking me in. When she grazed my ribs with the tips of her fingers, I shivered. Her lips quirked, and my cock jerked in response.
Not now.I groaned to myself.
I was used to shutting down my feelings on the ice so I could focus on the task at hand. I’d conditioned myself to present a certain side of myself in interviews. To don a mask in public. But this was a whole different level of compartmentalization. I was pretending we were in a relationship to everyone else, while also pretending I didn’t have feelings for her when we were alone. Talk about a mindfuck.
She paused then, her eyes never leaving my torso. “When did you get this?” Bryn asked, her fingers gliding over the Roman numerals there.
My newest tattoo blended in with some of the others, and since it was on my ribs, I wasn’t surprised she hadn’t noticed it before.
“A few months after he died,” I said in a quiet voice.
She furrowed her brow, her touch lingering. Everyone else was too busy to pay us much attention. I couldn’t focus on anything but her.
“But it’s his birthday?”
I held her gaze. “I prefer to celebrate the life he lived than commemorate the day he died.”
“It’s…” She peered up at me then, smiling. “I like that.”
