by Alexis Anne
Which made me such a guy.
Ugh.
“Just spit it out, Natalie.”
“Remove all the variables from the situation. If nothing else mattered—not your jobs, your families, your preconceived notions of what life should look like—if it was just you and this guy alone on a tropical island for the rest of your lives, is he who you’d want to be with?”
Yes.
No.
God, yes. The image of us having hot, sweaty sex in a tree house suddenly filled my head. Okay, more than that, visions of Roman’s perfect body glistening in the moonlight, filled my head.
I swallowed.
“Welp, there’s my answer,” Natalie giggled, reaching for her seatbelt.
“What? What answer?”
She clicked the belt into place. “You just flushed from head to toe, shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and your breathing deepened. Those are all a physical response to wanting a man desperately.”
“Okay, fine. I want him. But that doesn’t mean I want anything more from him.”
She giggled again.
“What?” I shouted.
“You’re such a guy. I feel bad for whoever this mystery man is.”
I glared at my friend then turned in the seat, buckling up and slamming the gearshift into reverse for real this time. “I don’t like you very much right now.”
“I know.”
For a split second I thought about telling her everything—spilling my guts and explaining our complicated history. Natalie was such a scientist she’d probably have a super logical solution.
And that was the problem.
I was afraid I wouldn’t like her answer. What if she said Roman and I were a bad idea?
“Come out with me tonight,” she said, splitting the silence that had descended between us.
“You don’t want me crashing your night out with your friends.”
“Of course we do! Come on. You need to get out of your meditating, yoga, goal board funk and relax. Maybe let a guy buy you a drink and see how it feels.”
I drove without responding.
“Seriously!” she said. “This is perfect. If guys are flirting with you and buying you drinks and all you can think about is him, then you know it’s something you should at least try to figure out. And if you have fun and meet someone knew . . . ” she shrugged, “well, problem solved.”
It did sound kind of nice. “Okay. I’ll crash your night out. Can I bring a friend or two?”
“Of course. Now say, ‘Thank you, Natalie. You’re the best.’”
I laughed under my breath and deadpanned in a monotone voice, “Thank you, Natalie. You’re the best.”
“You can thank me with a dirty martini in three hours. Wear something sexy.”
Every dress, skirt, and blouse I owned was now in a pile on my bed. I’d gone from effortlessly easy in skin-tight black pants with a fluttery blue top to no-holds-barred sexy in a glitzy cocktail dress. None of it felt right.
And now I stood in front of my mirror in yet another variation: red pencil skirt and low-cut black top.
It wasn’t right either.
I stamped my foot in frustration at the exact same moment I heard my backdoor open. I froze.
“It’s me!” Eve yelled. “And I don’t have kids.”
It wasn’t unusual for Eve to walk into my house without warning, but it was rare. “I’m in my room!” Why was she here?
I quickly tried to organize my clothes but it was a fruitless endeavor. I don’t even know why I tried.
“Whoa. Night out?” She stopped in the door, eyes wide. She must have just come from work because she was in a black version of the same pencil skirt I was wearing—making it clear it was the wrong choice for the club.
“Natalie invited us out with her friends.”
“Oh.” She sauntered in to sit on the chair by the window. “I forgot she was here for a few days.”
“You might know that if you were speaking to your best friend.” I realized it was a mistake to bring up Marie about five seconds after I did it.
Eve’s whole face screwed up in anger. “I still can’t believe she hired Roman. What the hell? Speaking of . . . that’s why I’m here.”
I swallowed. Why was I wearing such a low-cut top? She was going to see that I was flushing. “I don’t follow.”
“I had lunch at Rusty’s today.”
“Oh really? We just had dinner there.” Oh God. My voice sounded squeaky.
“I heard. Rusty apologized. You know what he apologized for, June?”
I smiled weakly. “Roman?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what he apologized for. I found out from him that Roman St. James not only sent you steamed oysters—which are very good right now, by the way—but then he came over and talked to you!”
I cringed because by the time she was done, Eve was yelling. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.” It was only life-alteringly amazing, not that she needed to know that.
“Not a big deal?” Somehow she managed to get even louder. “Roman spoke to you. In public. It’s a huge fucking deal, even if it was Rusty’s.”
Thank goodness it was Rusty’s. “He was being nice.”
“Nice?” This time her voice squeaked. “St. James are not nice. He had an agenda.”
I rolled my eyes. “He works for Marie now. He lives here. He’s not Godzilla.”
“He might as well be,” she grumbled.
“He sent over oysters as a peace offering—his words. He came over to say hello and make sure he hadn’t offended me.” He also held my hand and whispered in my ear, but those were details my sister didn’t need to hear. “He was very cordial and respectful, just like Greg mentioned. I don’t think we need to worry about him.”
She gave me a funny look like she didn’t quite believe me.
Crap.
“First Marie, then Greg, now you?”
“Not me. Don’t go grouping me in with them. I was polite. That’s all.”
She stood up. “That’s how it starts. Nice. The next thing you’ll be telling me is that you like him.”
I blanched. “I was giving him the benefit of the doubt, just like I hope everyone does for me who knows that you’re my big sister.” I stuck my tongue out her.
She narrowed her eyes. “Funny.” Then she wandered into my closet and came out with the one outfit I hadn’t even considered. “Wear this.”
“Are you nuts?”
She grinned. “Nope. You need to have some fun, little sister. You’ve been super serious lately. And this? You’ll have lots of fun if you wear this. You look great in it.”
“Thank you?” I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment considering it came dressed up in a critique.
She patted my shoulder as she walked by. “I just wanted to stop in and make sure you were okay. It’s not like you to keep secrets.”
“It wasn’t a secret. I just . . . hadn’t mentioned it.” If only she knew all the secrets I kept.
“Still. You’ve been closed off. Quiet. I’m not sure what’s up but I’m a little worried.” She stopped in the doorway and turned around. “And definitely have some fun tonight. Wear the dress. Let loose. Do something, I don’t know . . . crazy.”
10
“I went overboard, didn’t I?” My skirt had inched up as I opened my bedroom door to let Zoe in and I self-consciously pushed it back down. I wanted to feel like sex-in-heels. I wanted to attract a dozen men and really test myself.
But as Zoe stared at me wide-eyed I was having second thoughts.
“Don’t you dare change a thing,” she said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. “You look amazing.”
“Amazing or like I’m trying too hard?”
“Amazing,” she said firmly. “My God, you have great legs. I would kill for those legs!”
I pushed at my skirt again. “Thank you.”
She turned me toward my mirror. “You do not look like you’re trying too hard. You look exactly
like a beautiful woman who got dressed up for a night out.”
My blond hair was down as usual, but instead of straight I’d added waves. My makeup accentuated my blue eyes and full lips, but it was so much heavier than I normally wore it. And then there was the dress Eve had picked. I’d had it for months. I’d fallen madly in love with it at the store and bought it in a rush of adrenaline, but every time I pulled it out to put it on I chickened out and changed.
It was short. Not too short, but several inches shorter than any other skirt I’d ever worn. And the dress fit me like a glove in the most flattering way, but I worried it was just too much to put on display.
“I’m changing.” But I couldn’t move since someone was holding onto me with a death grip.
“Change and I won’t go out with you.”
“Traitor.”
“I’m not a traitor,” she sighed. “I’m your friend and I’m telling you that you look great. Now let’s get out of this house and go flirt our asses off with hot single men.”
“They’re going to Blue Lagoon. We’ll have more fun if we go somewhere else.”
Zoe rolled her eyes and pushed me out the door. “We’re going to meet Natalie and her friends. You are not getting out of this.”
“But everyone at Blue Lagoon will be Natalie’s age.”
“Did you just call me old?”
I blanched. “No . . . I just meant that the guys might not be mature enough.”
She didn’t buy my bullshit. “I believe what you meant to say was that you didn’t want to run into any of your players.”
Blue Lagoon was also a favorite haunt of pretty much every professional athlete in town. It was dark, loud, and offered several intimate options for partying without being seen by the lowly everyday folk on the main floor.
“Whatever,” I grumbled and grabbed my purse. “You’re mean.”
“I’m not mean but I do need to get out of this house. I wrote eight thousand words today and can’t see straight.”
Zoe was on a hot streak with her new book. She was waking up with ideas in her head and typing all morning. If I didn’t slide coffee, croissants, and a fruit and cheese platter onto her desk she’d probably starve.
“So I’m doing you a favor? Making you shower and interact with real people?”
“Precisely. I need it. I know I need it, but damn this book is singing right now. I could crawl right back into my sweats and bang out another five thousand words before bed.”
I arched an eyebrow. I wasn’t a writer but Zoe and I talked shop all the time. I knew for a fact that her all time high was twelve thousand words in a single day—and she hadn’t slept, bathed, eaten, or moved from her keyboard once on that day. There was no way she had five thousand more words in her tonight.
“Okay fine,” she sighed. “But I have at least two thousand left in me today. And instead of working and potentially killing my eyes and wrists, I’m going out with you to have a good time.”
“See? I’m saving you from having to take two days off to recover from overdoing it.”
At the bar, Natalie and her friends were easy to spot in the busy crowd and Zoe practically sprinted to join them.
“You’re here!” Natalie called above the music. “And looking hot!”
She was one to talk. The little girl I’d first met was now all woman in her sapphire blue dress and matching heels. “This is designer isn’t it?” I asked as I examined the dress.
“What else does the heir to a fashion empire wear?”
“We went dress shopping today,” I pointed out. “You bought off the rack.”
She shrugged. “I’m also diverse and thrifty.”
We were quickly introduced to the four other young women with Natalie before Carrie joined us, too. Eight single, sexy women. Yep, we attracted a few interested parties pretty quickly, much to the delight of Natalie and her friends. Zoe, a die hard music lover, disappeared onto the dance floor.
Leaving me with Carrie. “Are you still mad at me?” she asked between sips of her wine.
“I’m not mad at you.”
“Frustrated then?”
“I’m not frustrated, either.” Our celebration dinner had ended quietly after Roman’s appearance. “I was . . . flustered.”
“I can’t imagine why. Tell me, have you thought about him?”
I mumbled something nondescript and pretended my wine was the most interesting thing in the world.
“So you get flustered when he’s around and can’t stop thinking about him. Plus he’s super sexy and seems very nice. Have a fling with him if nothing else.”
“I’ve had a fling with him.”
“But did you?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what six-ish weeks of banging is.”
She didn’t buy my line for a second. “Did you meet him at his place, fuck, and leave?”
“No,” I grumbled.
“Then you didn’t just bang.”
“Why do you care?” I slammed my drink down on the little table.
“Don’t abuse the wine!” She carefully set her empty glass down beside mine. “I care because you’re my friend and you are very obviously upset. Women get mad when they see an old flame that ended badly. You’re not mad, June.”
“I’m mad.”
“No you’re not,” she laughed. “You might be a little mad but mostly you’re just turned on.” Then her eyes lit up. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
And of all the men who could be standing in front of our table it was Wes Allen who appeared out of the crowd. “June, right?”
The blood drained out of my head. Was Roman with him? “Yes. I looked at your ankle.”
He took my hand and dramatically kissed it. “And apparently we went to college together even though I don’t remember it.” He very kindly didn’t mention the Roman part of the equation.
There was a sharp pain in my leg reminding that Carrie wanted an introduction. I took her hand and removed it from my knee. “Wes, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Carrie. She’s the team’s orthopedic surgeon.”
His eyebrows rose. “A beautiful surgeon? How did I get so lucky?”
“Buy me a drink and I’ll explain,” she purred.
I rolled my eyes.
While Carrie flirted with Wes, and Zoe danced, I took drink orders. “Cosmo, Yuengling, gin and tonic. Got it. I’ll be right back!” With their orders memorized I squeezed my way up to the bar and waited.
“You’re next sweetheart. I promise.” The poor bartender was overworked and frazzled so I cut him some slack for calling me sweetheart.
“It’s crazy in here tonight,” a warm, deep voice said beside me.
I turned to find bright green eyes drinking me in. “Very busy,” I agreed. He was vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place why.
“I’m Ryan.” He held out his hand and I gave it a quick shake.
“June.”
“June? That’s not a name you hear often.” His voice was also strangely familiar. Rich and seductive. The kind that made your skin shiver when he whispered in your ear. Why did I know him?
And more importantly, would I like to flirt with this man? He was interesting and not too hard on the eyes. It was the whole point of the night out, after all. So I turned slightly and smiled. “I’m named after my great grandmother.”
“It’s beautiful.” His eyes twinkled and I decided Ryan was fun and mischievous. I liked him.
“Thank you. What are you drinking tonight?” I pointed at his nearly empty glass.
He cocked it to the side, letting the ice clink. “Scotch. And you?”
“A G&T for me,” I sang the Bare Naked Ladies lyrics.
He smiled. “You’re tone deaf but adorable.”
“How can you tell with all this noise?”
He tapped his ear. “It’s my job to know music.”
And there it was. A little tickle of recognition in the back of my mind. A party . . . two years ago? At Marie and Greg’s. �
��I know you,” I said slowly as I tried to recall that night. It was for Marie’s company, Bancroft Sports. The house had been packed.
My skin heated as a strong memory of a kiss that had done exactly what I imagined bolted through my mind. It was a hot night but we’d slipped onto her back porch. We kissed. We groped. I almost went home with him.
And then nothing.
He blanched. “June Daniels?”
I nodded.
“Oh my God.” He stood up straighter. “Oh my God. I owe you such a huge apology.”
“For kissing me? Or not remembering me?”
“Neither. For not calling you.” He ran a hand nervously through his hair. “I’m not normally that guy. Fuck,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.”
“Order?” The bartender barked at me.
I blinked a few times, totally thrown by the music, Ryan’s confession, and the bossy bartender barraging me all at once. “Uh, two gin and tonic,” I stuttered. “A Cosmo and a Yuengling. Please.”
“Coming right up!”
“June.” Ryan drew my attention back to him. “I have felt like human garbage ever since that night at Marie’s party. I want you to know I sincerely apologize for kissing and never calling. It wasn’t you.”
I laughed at the cheesy line but appreciated the genuineness in his eyes. “It was just a few kisses, Ryan. I promise you I’d forgotten about it until now.” And I had. Oh sure, for a good week I cursed his name and was more than a little hot and bothered that I wasn’t getting any relief to the way he’d made me feel, but then I went out the next weekend and moved on with my life.
“Still. I’d never done that before and I sure as hell haven’t done it since. Wait that came out wrong.”
I smiled, hoping to make him feel more comfortable. “You mean you didn’t mean to imply kissing me was so awful that I was the one and only lapse in your manners?”
He blanched again. “I am fucking this up so royally.”
“I’m just teasing you.” I glanced at the drinks the bartender lined up.
“Let me pay for this and help you bring them over to your friends.” He turned to the bartender before I could reply. “All of this goes on my tab. Plus anything else they want tonight.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You feel really bad.” I had zero intention of letting him pay for more than this round but I appreciated the gesture.
