Jesus Christ. I’m going. I’m going. I set Lily on the cushion beside Daisy, and then I rise, facing him, a coffee table separating us.
How does this even f**king work? He’s two inches taller than me, and I have no idea who is going to go for it first. I lick my lips nervously, and I wonder if this looks more sexual than anxious. I wipe my mouth with my hand and glance back at Lily. “Don’t look.” God f**king shit. I don’t need her to be aroused from this.
She hides her eyes behind her fingers, and I turn back to Connor.
Rose has said a few words in French that I can’t understand, but Connor never replies back. I have a feeling it’s because Ryke can understand him. And then Rose huffs and switches to English, “Loren, you look scared. Maybe you should sit down.”
Her voice is nicer than usual. I eye Connor. I look scared because your husband is domineering as hell.
She suddenly adds, “You’re an antelope and he’s a lion.” I picture a lion chasing an antelope. And killing it for food.
My shoulders tense at that truth. “Yeah?” I say to her, looking past Connor at Rose. “Are you an antelope too?”
She says, “I’m the same breed as him.”
“Toujours,” Connor tells her. I understand the French word because he says it all the time.
Always.
Right as I turn to Connor, his hand cups the back of my head.
And his lips touch mine.
My muscles solidify, and instead of just being awkwardly pressed together, he truly kisses me—with more confidence than I could ever possess.
I shut my eyes while his lips close over mine, and I try to follow his lead to the best of my ability. But Connor controls the action—and I’m grateful for that. His hand falls to my neck, and I find myself gripping his bicep. My lungs thrashing for air as I cage all oxygen elsewhere.
“Fifteen seconds,” I hear Poppy say.
I’ve never kissed a guy before, which has to be really apparent. In the last three seconds, I feel Connor grinning against my lips. I swear he’s entertained by the weirdest things.
“Time,” Poppy says.
We break apart at the same moment. My lips actually slightly sting from the force. I wonder how many guys he’s kissed before. After that, I highly doubt I’m the first. There are just too many clues for me to believe otherwise.
Connor rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, winks at me and then spins to Ryke. “We’re even.”
Ryke nods, his brows raised in surprise.
“Did anyone else think that was hot?” Daisy says with a loopy smile, past tipsy.
“It was okay,” Rose says flatly, which prompts Connor to study her with intrigue. I expected her to charge at me or him—since she hates me and she loves him and we just kissed.
But she doesn’t care. I can’t wrap my head around those two most of the time.
“Waitwaitwait,” Lily slurs, and alarm shoots into me. My attention diverts to Lil, her fingers still shielding her eyes. “How hot was it? I need to know this!” My shoulders drop in relief that she’s okay.
“A solid eight,” Daisy declares, though she is staring only at Ryke right now. They’re giving f**k me eyes to each other. This is all wrong. “It’s mast***ation worthy.”
I grimace. “Stop.”
“You’re stroking Connor’s ego,” Rose tells her sister.
Lily is another color entirely—solid red. Stroking. I’m cringing more now than I was during the damn thing.
“All of my sexual encounters are mast***ation worthy,” Connor says. “This is nothing new.” He does, literally, have millions of people jacking off to his sex tapes with his wife.
I slow clap and Ryke joins in.
Connor smiles more.
The funny thing—other people in the club start clapping too. I can feel my smile. Fans can be really cool, despite a few hecklers here and there.
“An eight,” Lily repeats, astounded. “I can’t believe I missed it.”
I reclaim my seat on the couch. “It wasn’t like that, Lil.”
Poppy adds, “You’ll probably be able to Google it online.”
“She’s not allowed to look at p**n ,” Rose says.
“This wasn’t p**n ,” I announce to everyone.
“So I can watch it?” Lily asks, her hands still shielding her face. She’s picturing it right now. Probably further than anything that actually transpired. “Was their tongue?” she whispers to me, confirming my suspicions.
“No to both.” I pull Lil’s palm away from her eyes. And her gaze darts to my lips, as though imagining them against one of my best friend’s. It’s not a fantasy I want imbedded in her brain.
Connor sits beside Rose, and he kisses her forehead. She seems at ease.
Everyone does.
How could that break the tension in our group? Strain that I accidentally built from a dare.
And then Connor’s deep blue eyes meet mine, and he smiles at me, a genuine one that he only reserves for friends.
He can slice through arguments, lower boiling points and keep our friendship intact, not even remotely awkward after we just kissed.
And he’s a part of my life.
Thank God.
Or rather, thank him. Yeah, I smile, he’d want me to rephrase that.
19
LILY CALLOWAY
After the nightclub, we amble along the sidewalk, heading towards the dock so we can return to the yacht. “Spill,” Rose says to Daisy, who is being supported mostly by me and Poppy, our arms around our little sister’s waist.
Rose wants details about the sexual escapade that the guys knew before us. I kinda want more info too. All things involving blow jobs interest me, maybe a little too much.
Instead of answering, Daisy dodges Rose’s request and inhales like she’s breathing in tonight’s full moon and glittering stars. She raises her fists sloppily into the air and shouts, “HELLO, MEXICO!”
The four guys, sauntering twenty feet ahead of us, all turn their heads in unison. Damn. That was sexy. I can admit that without flushing, right?
I check my arms.
Nope. Still red.
Ryke is the only one who remains spun around. He rotates fully, walking backwards with an aluminum-foiled taco in hand. Most of the guys are eating them after we passed a food stand. I chose to go with dessert and eat a churro as a late-night snack.
Daisy focuses on her boyfriend and almost trips over her feet.
“Watch it, Calloway,” he tells her.
“You watch it,” she says, her retort not as good with her drunken state. Poppy and I hold her firmly to our sides.
“I am watching it,” Ryke says, his eyes right on hers, “and she looks like a hot f**king mess.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Daisy says in a smooth voice. Her smile radiates, but her eyelids droop.
Rose points an accusatory finger from Daisy to Ryke. “No flirting. We’re having girl time.”
Ryke ignores her and says, “I’ll show you later, sweetheart.” And then he spins around, walking with the guys. Ryke places a hand on Lo’s shoulder, and they talk amongst themselves. Laughter emanates from their huddle, and Lo’s is the loudest, the most full-bellied and jam-packed with true happiness.
My eyes sting with emotion.
Loren Hale is laughing.
It shouldn’t be a rare phrase. But it is.
I am most happy when he is happy. The same, I know, applies to him.
Poppy stares off into space before saying, “He has good lines.”