That made sense. I could hardly refuse, though, having agreed to be his best man.
I realized now that I’d been ambushed, and it probably was some kind of scheme—whose, I wasn’t sure, but my money would be on Mrs. Hargrave—to upset things between me and Theo.
It’d take a lot more than that. One thing I was sure of in my life was that Theo would always be part of it, if I had any say. I wouldn’t give him up for anything.
Corey raised his hands in defeat. “All yours,” he said, flashing me a wolfish smile. “Sorry to split you up.”
Theo’s hand was on the breakfast table, tapping nervously. I curled my fingers around it, slow and showy so no one would miss what I was doing, then raised it to my lips to press a kiss to the knuckles.
His breath hitched, which was a nice touch of realism. Theo was a better actor than I’d realized. His performance in the shower after me had been…
Well…
I’d had to turn the lamp down as far as it’d go, curl up, and pretend to be fast asleep so he wouldn’t see how hard I’d gotten listening to him. The sounds he’d made would be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.
I’d overheard him before, when we’d still been sharing our apartment. He’d brought people back plenty of times, and our rooms shared a wall that wasn’t all that thick. I’d laid in bed, curled up on my side, eyes closed, trying not to listen.
Failing, more often than not. I’d heard him gasp and whimper and moan, brain tuned into his voice even when I wished it wasn’t.
Occasionally, I’d given in. Shoved my guilt aside and my hand into my sweatpants, stroking myself as I focused on Theo’s voice, his gasps and hitched breaths, the gorgeous little broken sound he made when—I assumed—he came.
Last night, I’d listened to him make those same, guiltily familiar sounds, but louder and more deliberate. I didn’t know if he’d ever tried to be quiet when we’d lived together, but he hadn’t last night. He’d let me—and everyone else in the house—hear it all.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Worse, I’d had to stand in the same shower this morning, burning with arousal, one fist in my mouth to keep me quiet and the other wrapped around my cock, stroking myself to the thought of Theo making those sounds for me.
I knew what it felt like to kiss him, now, and all I could think of was pinning him to the tiles, mouths sealed together, skin pressed to skin as I touched him, touched him all over like I’d always wanted to. Made him whimper and gasp and moan under my hands, my mouth. Made him come with that gorgeous little broken sound and looked him in the eyes after, pupils blown and unfocused, cheeks flushed and lips parted as he panted for breath, hair plastered over his forehead—a satisfied, happy mess.
Right now wasnotthe time to be revisiting thoughts like that.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, moving Theo’s hand away from my lips again. “We’ve got forever to be together.”
Corey raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a different smile. This one, I couldn’t quite read.
“You and me are gonna have agreatday, Simon,” he said.
I was not havinga great day.
My lungs burned as I skidded behind a stack of hay bales, a projectile whizzing past my head. A jolt of pain shoot up from my knees as they hit the hard ground and I swore under my breath, scooting over to make sure my back was covered. Tears stung at my eyes, my whole body aching as though it was all one giant bruise.
I was not cut out for paintball.
A cackle of laughter, a whoop, and another skid heralded Corey’s arrival, collapsing next to me behind the hay bales. His overalls were a lot less paint-covered than mine, almost pristine.
I didn’t know why I was surprised he was apparently a paintball prodigy. It washisbachelor party. Of course he’d pick something he enjoyed.
The rest of the wedding party—his side of it, anyway—had met us at the paintball place. I’d caught about two names before everyone was wearing identical overalls and helmets, so Corey was also the only person here I actuallyknew. Well, except Cameron—who’d tagged along on the groom’s side at Corey’s enthusiastic invitation—butknewwas a stretch with him. I would have been able to put a name to his face, which I couldn’t guarantee with anyone else.
Especially as most of them were models—male and female—so they all looked basically the same. Glossy magazine beautiful.
As though I hadn’t felt like the odd one out enough already.
“Havin’ fun?” Corey asked, grinning from under his helmet.
The look I gave him must’ve said it all, because he chuckled and patted me on the thigh with the air of an over-enthusiastic gym teacher trying to convince me I could love the sport of the week if I just gave it a chance.
The only sport I’d ever enjoyed in my life was ping-pong, and I still wasn’t good at it. Hand-eye coordination was not my strong suit.
Someone in black overalls—our team’s were blue—rounded the corner at that moment. Corey got off three shots, all of them landing neatly grouped mid-torso. The enemy team membersighed and walked off, shoulders drooping. Corey had barely moved anddefinitelyhadn’t broken a sweat.
