“Fine,” I said after much too long a pause. “I’m fine. You okay?”
Simon nodded, still out of breath, and started laughing again.
“Never thought you’d like itthisrough,” he said, voice wrecked, low enough that no one but me would hear.
I don’t, but I could if you do.
You’ve thought about how rough I like it?
Get back on the bed and find out.
Instead of saying any of that, I climbed off him as carefully as I could and extended my hand. He took it, and even that skincontact—we must have touched like this before, I must have known Simon’s hand was warm and dry and had a callus under the two middle fingers—was too much for me.
“Do we keep going?” Simon leaned in and whispered in my ear, so close the brush of his breath made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.
I swallowed hard once, then again. I couldn’t do this. I couldnotdo this, I shouldn’t have agreed in the first place. No matter how badly I wanted Mom and Corey and Delilah and anyone else who still believed the lie to think Simon still wanted me, even though I’d screwed up.
“Let’s…” I paused to think. “Make sure the mattress creaks while we get ready for bed. And not turn the shower off between us, so it sounds like we’re showering together. You go first.”
There. That would work.
“You’re good at this,” Simon murmured, still unbearably close. My skin prickled all over, and the urge to shove him back onto the bed, kiss him like I meant it, tear his clothes off and demand his dick for real this time almost got the better of me.
“… to bang the wall a few times while I’m in there?” I heard past the rush of blood in my ears.
“Uh,” I said, scrambling to catch up with the question. “Yeah. Okay.”
Simon pulled back, grinning at me.
“Jump on the bed while I get undressed,” he murmured. “Let them think we’re finishing up anyway.”
I nodded, crawling onto the bed again once Simon had brushed past me into the en suite.
At least I had cover to jerk off in the shower this time.
13
SIMON
“ButIwant Simon,”Delilah said, pouting at Corey over the breakfast table. Breakfast was outdoors this morning, everyone around the same table, which was covered in pastries, fruit, and individual cups of plain Greek yogurt. The weather was beautiful, a handful of cotton ball clouds floating across the otherwise clear, bright blue sky. Birds were singing.
I was clutching a mug of black coffee to my chest like a life preserver on account of the looks Theo and I had gotten when we arrived.
Intending to make everyone think we’d had loud, enthusiastic sex last night was all well and good until we had to face a dozen people who thought they’d overheard us in the morning.
“Sweetheart, he’smybest man,” Corey said, shooting a glance at me. “We’ve got things to discuss. Guy things.”
Today was bachel-or-slash-ette party day. Apparently, the festivities were starting early on account of the Fourth of July fireworks scheduled for tonight, when there’d be yet anothercocktail party—withallthe wedding guests in attendance—so we could watch them together.
I didn’t get the obsession with cocktail parties, which I was sure was yet another serious failing that marked me out as an outsider. Give me a board game night any day.
“Then I get Theo,” Delilah said, whipping her head to look at him. Theo, who’d been half-asleep beside me, straightened and stiffened.
“I’m not sure—” I began, only to be stopped by, of all things, Theo’s knee knocking deliberately against mine.
I looked at him in surprise. He wanted to hang out with Delilah?
No. No, hedidn’twant to hang out with Corey.
