“God, yes,” I mutter-sigh, following him and Logan into the kitchen.
For the next hour, I try to relax and enjoy myself, but my mind keeps wandering to Lizzy and what she might be talkingto her friends about. The look on her face, like she’d seen a ghost, keeps replaying over and over in my head. And the flash of hurt in those stunning green eyes before anger took over?
Fuck. I shouldn’t have called her Sunshine, but the nickname slipped out before I even knew what I was saying.
I can’t help glancing toward the back door every few minutes, hoping to catch sight of Lizzy coming back inside.
Jesus Christ.I wasn’t prepared for what seeing her would do to me. I’ve seen a few photos of her over the years, but those images did nothing to prepare me for the real thing. The memories I had of Lizzy in my head were still of her as a teenager with hints of the woman she’d become. The Lizzy I just saw? Pure fucking fantasy come to life.
When she walked in wearing that tight blue tank top, my brain short-circuited. Her body has filled out in all the ways that make my mouth water. Curvy hips flaring perfectly from a narrow waist. Breasts practically straining to pop out from her top. I had to force myself not to stare. It irked me when I realized I was gawking at her like some perverted teenager getting his first look at a Playboy centerfold.
And those tattoos...Fuck. Me. Vibrant, colorful ink covering both arms in intricate designs I couldn’t fully make out in the brief moment before she bolted. All I know is they suit her—wild, beautiful and completely captivating. And that silver-hoop lip ring hugging the middle of her full bottom lip?
Holy fuck.
I’m more than desperate to suck it between my lips. Not to mention how it would feel sliding over the length of my cock.
“You okay, man?” Logan’s question instantly yanks me out of my sexual haze. “You look like you’re about to crush that beer bottle,” he says, eyebrow raised as he jerks his chin.
Loosening my death grip on the glass bottle, I take a longpull, hoping the cold liquid will stamp out the heat rushing through my veins. “Yeah.”
“Liar,” he chuckles. “You’re eyeing the back door like you’re trying to Jedi mind trick it open.”
“I’m just...” I shake my head, unsure how to explain the mess of emotions I’m feeling without revealing too much. “I didn’t expect…”
Logan shrugs. “You know she’s always been pretty stubborn about holding onto grudges. Remember when I accidentally broke her favorite Megadeath CD in eighth grade? She wouldn’t speak to me for two weeks.”
I nod, knowing this is much different. What happened between Lizzy and me goes way beyond some broken CD.
“Maybe I should go?” I suggest, setting my empty bottle on the counter. “This is your friends’ party. It’s not like I was invited.”
“No way,” Logan says firmly. “You’re with me, so you’re invited. We’re not leaving yet. Lizzy will come around. She always does.”
Not this time,I think to myself.
“Listen,” he continues. “The girls will calm her down. Give her some space and she’ll be back.”
Space. Right. That’s exactly what I’ve been giving her for the past fifteen years, and look where that’s gotten us.
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes. He checks the screen and frowns.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s just work,” he sighs, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
“There’s not a fire, is there?”
“Nope. We’re good.”
Another half hour passes with no sign of the women returning. The conversation flows easily enough between me and the guys, butI can’t seem to shake the feeling that Logan bringing me here has ruined Sasha’s party.
“We should head out,” I suggest. It’s clear the girls aren’t coming back anytime soon. “Early day tomorrow.”
Logan glances at his watch and nods. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”
We say our goodbyes, promising to catch up with the guys again before I leave.
The rideback to Logan’s is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I stare out the window as we pass through downtown Lakeside, the streetlights casting periodic shadows across the dashboard. My mind keeps replaying Lizzy’s reaction on a loop—the shock, the anger, and beneath it all, the hurt.
