The guys, however, did not accept my invitations to chill in the hot tub.
Cole left pretty much as soon as we settled in here, not even trying to be sneaky about it. And Dane went straight to his room, probably sulking about not getting to sit next to Lucy on the plane, so he didn’t notice our other friend leave.
Which means, since I just heard the back door of the house close in what Dane must assume was a quiet way, that I’m going to have to follow them—no doubt to Lucy’s cottage—and make sure they don’t get in another fight.
We haven’t had one since the infamous fists thrown over the processing chips for our service robots, but it’s not like I want to repeat that. Each of them is a decade older, and their bones aren’t going to heal quite as well as before.
So, sighing and setting my limoncello to the side, I push out of the jacuzzi, water cascading to the floor around me. I towel off, throw on a floral muumuu from Honolulu, and follow Dane’s path down to the smaller cottage.
My usual calm starts to wear off when I round the corner just in time to see Dane throw open the door to Lucy’s cottage, letting loose a growling shout.
Lucy screams from within the building, the sound echoing off the walls. That, more than anything, gets my fucking ass into gear.
I love Dane like a brother, but sometimes he doesn’t think shit through. Like barging into the cottage, surely just thinking about Cole, but not realizing how that action might affect Lucy.
When I run through the open door after Dane, I expect to find him and Cole on the ground, trading blows. “Stop fighting!” I yell.
But nobody is tussling.
I barrel into Dane’s back, and he takes just a small step forward, barely budging since he’s a brick fucking wall.
“Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing at my face, “I think I broke my nose.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Dane growls, paying no attention to me, and instead looking at Cole and Lucy, who are both standing on the other side of the couch.
On the TV behind them, several reels play, showing little characters in karts, skirting around various tracks. Princess Peach slides around a curve and hits Shy Guy with a red shell, blasting over the finish line at the last moment. Peach cheers.
Lucy and Cole stand, wide-eyed, controllers dangling from their hands.
I can’t help it; I laugh out loud. Of course, Cole came down here, had a perfect opportunity to get his hands on her body, and played a video game with her instead.
“Dane,” Lucy breathes, the pure terror and shock in her voice making me a little sick. Her eyes are locked on him, wide and frozen. “What are you doing?”
But Dane doesn’t answer her. Instead, he stares right at Cole. “What thefuckare you doing?”
I expect Cole to say nothing, like he usually does, which usually manages to piss Dane off sometimes more than if heactually answers, but he doesn’t. Instead, he raises his eyebrows and looks Dane up and down. “What areyoudoing? Why didyoucome down here?”
“Wait…” Lucy says, but her voice is too small, and they hardly notice.
“Come on, guys,” I try, holding my hands up, playing peacemaker like I always do. “Let’s try and?—”
“Doesn’t matter why I’m here,” Dane growls. “What matters is that I foundyoualone with her in the middle of the fucking night.”
“It’snotthe middle of the night,” Lucy points out. “And we’re just playing…” Lucy tries, gesturing at the TV, but it’s pretty pointless. First, because Lucy is in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts and a camisole, so even sittingnearher is going to be equivalent to sex in Dane’s primitive mind.
And second, it doesn’t take a genius to realize they’ve had their hands on each other. Cole’s hair is mussed, Lucy’s cheeks flushed, some of her lip gloss shimmering on his chin.
Those images jump to mind again—all of us with her at once, touching her together. Now is obviously not the time to bring them up.
“And if I had waited?” Cole asks quietly, his tone calculating, eyes settled heavily on Dane. Cole isn’t usually very perceptive when it comes to people, but when he turns that big brain and all that processing power onto studying someone, he manages to figure things out. “Would I have foundyoualone with her?”
“Does it really matter?” I interject, holding my hands up like I’m offering myself as a hostage. Grinning, I try out one of my high-wattage smiles. It has a fifty-fifty chance of working. Just as much of a chance at setting them off. “We’re all here now, and we’ve got a bottle of limoncello back at the cottage, just waiting for us. What do you say we go back there, all of us? Lucy, what do you think? Enjoy the hot tub?
Cole doesn’t even look at me. Dane says nothing.
“That’s what I thought.” Cole continues their conversation as if I didn’t even speak, managing to be matter-of-fact, rather than smug. I close my eyes, shaking my head at them.
I could practically count down the seconds to Dane’s growled words.
