–Me: The hotel messed up the reservation.
–Roarke: Does this mean something’s going to happen between the two of you? I actually think she likes you.
I scoff, even as an uncomfortable sensation burns in my gut. He’s so mistaken.
–Me: Are you drunk?
–Roarke: It’s early morning here.
–Liam: How about Selena? She’s single again.
Oh God,not Selena. My ex from my twenties. We had a lot in common, and our relationship seemed to be heading toward marriage. But it crashed and burned once she witnessed the chaos called Auric and Elita Kingswood.
Couldn’t blame her. Dad’s new chick greeted her topless, and Mom’s boytoy of the week gave her a full frontal. He was still erect and grinned like a dog proud of a new trick it’d just mastered, like getting an erection in his twenties was something to be arrogant about.
At least my parents were barely covered. But they couldn’t fathom why any of it was problematic. As far as they were concerned, Selena should’ve been more open-minded. Theirhors du jourwere good looking—she should be happy to have seen something that nice for free.
We didn’t last long after that. At least she was honest about why she wanted to break up.
My brothers don’t know the exact details because they were busy with school and getting started in their careers at the time. They only learned that I got dumped and moped around for a few months afterward. Since then, I’ve never dated seriously. They’re convinced it’s because I still have feelings for Selena. I’ve never corrected them.
–Roarke: Single? How do you know?
–Liam: I saw her husband coming in to buy a new engagement ring. Pretty sure it wasn’t for Selena.
Liam’s in the lab diamond business, fully integrated from stone creation to retail sales. His clients range from regular Joesto moneyed celebrities. The former want value, and the latter want to avoid supporting conflict diamonds.
–Gideon: Guess the hubby wasn’t as good as she imagined.
A complete cynic, Gideon didn’t care for the way things broke down. He thought Selena was mercenary because she married some slick venture capitalist from Silicon Valley whose net worth at that time was triple mine. But I understood where she was coming from.
–Me: Don’t be mean. She had every reason to dump me.
–Xavier: Cheer up. You’re in the same room as Max. It’s a first step. I think Roarke is right about her. She likes you. She can’t take her eyes off you.
–Me: It’s her job to watch me and learn. And we’re responsible adults with firm boundaries.
Even as I type it, I can’t decide if the feeling in my gut is resolve or something less noble. Like disappointment.
Max respects my abilities. But that might be where things stand. She’s a little hard to read with her smart mouth and sarcasm. At the same time, even if she liked me, if she really got to spend more time with me, that might change. People sometimes think that if you justwill it, you can affect someone’s feelings. But certain things are beyond changing, like your parents’ inappropriate behavior.
The second my phone lands on the nightstand, the bathroom door opens, and Max slips out. I’ve always seen her decked out in perfect makeup, impeccable hair and the most professional outfits, looking dangerously attractive. But this is a whole new level of hot.
A drawstring pulled together and tied into a bow holds up purple cotton bottoms with pink, fire-breathing cartoon dragons. Totally cute, but very Max, roars paired with prettyfemininity. But what she has on top is criminal. Two straps as thin as angel hair pasta hold up tiny scraps of triangular pink fabric over her breasts, showing way too much creamy skin, including the glorious cleavage a man could lose himself in. The top ends right below her belly button, giving a peek of her beautifully soft stomach. Is she ticklish? I’ve never tried to find out, but suddenly curiosity is killing me.
Her straight copper hair is slightly damp and hangs loosely around her slender shoulders. Not a trace of makeup on her face, but it looks all the prettier for it, natural and kissable.Jesus,she has freckles across the bridge of her nose.That’s just— Heat flares in my belly. She smells faintly of lavender and the oatmeal soap provided by the hotel.
A dangerous spark ignites in my gut.
“So. Uh. Did the hotel bring any extra bedding?” She bites her lip, which suddenly makes me want to suck it.
But I keep my face calm and point my chin at the bench. “There.”
“Oh, good.” She sighs, then grabs a thick blanket and lays it on the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.” She gets on her hands and knees and beats the blanket, either to fluff it up or vent her frustration. Hard to say based on the vigor alone. From this angle, I can see her ass clearly. Either her pajama pants are made of fairly thick cotton or she isn’t wearing panties. Her boobs swing with each motion.
