“Luckily for me I know how not to be one. Thanks to you three.”
“Are you sure? ‘Cause there’s definitely some ass in you.”
“The only ass she has is the growing one attached to her back.”
“Are you telling me you don’t know why you’re single? Holy shit. You’re not just an ass, you’re a dumb one!”
“It’s because you know it’s true.”
“He’s right. You are gettin’ one hell of an ass on you.”
“Hey, lover boy is outside!”
“Both of ‘em.”
I bury my face in a pillow to fight the urge to scream and laugh at the same time. You honestly wouldn’t believe that Luce’s brothers, Leo, Lucas, and Liam are in their twenties. They all constantly bicker, and it’s usually three on one... And I don’t even know who’s saying what. Sometimes their bickering is amusing. This?
This isn’t amusing. Their ass comments will have Luce ranting and raving for the next two hours about them.
“Know what, Leo? Fuck off!” Luce snaps, storming into the living room. I look up. “Adam and Reese are outside. Let’s go before I take the nearest rope-like item and string my brothers from Mom’s balcony with Justin Bieber playing loudly.”
I hide my smile and grab my bag as I stand and follow her out. I’m unsure how successful today will be since I never made it to Reese’s house last night. Hell, I never even made it to his number in my cell. Nope, I totally ignored it after Mom stormed out.
But I didn’t have much of a choice about going to the beach. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Adam was organizing it all in a desperate attempt to get into Luce’s panties.
I don’t think she needs much convincing, if I’m honest.
Aside from that, the glint of Reese’s red truck from behind Adam’s restored, silver Mustang is all I need to know. Luce and I have been set up well and truly by Harlan Grove’s professional smooth-talking, heart-attack-inducing, panty-removing duo. I’m half tempted to lick my finger and draw an invisible point in the air for them.
Reese leans over the seats and unlatches the door, grinning boyishly. The grin he has when he’s up to something. I instantly go on the defense, wondering why he’s grinning like the Cheshire cat and not spitting fire at me with his eyes.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my eyes flitting around the cab of the truck.
He laughs. “Why do you think I’ve done something?”
“You have that look. You’ve done something. And you ain’t yellin’ at me.”
“I swear I haven’t done anything.” The “yet” is unspoken.
“Then you’re planning something.”
He doesn’t say a thing as I get in, my eyes moving warily to his. He merely shrugs a shoulder and pulls out of Luce’s drive, following Adam’s car.
“That’s a yes.” I sit back and sigh.
“That’s an “I’m choosin’ not to answer,” Kia, not a yes or no.”
“Am I gonna hate you by the end of the day?”
“You could never hate me.” He chuckles and shoots me an amused glance. I scowl. “Could you?”
“Uh, well, I strongly dislike you on occasion.”
“On occasion?”
“Yeah.”
“How often are these occasions?”
“It depends how often you want to ask me endless stupid questions.” I swat his chest lightly, and he grabs my hand. His fingers lace between mine and he settles our hands around the gearstick so he can change up. I swallow, my thumb involuntarily stroking across his hand.
I’ve f**ked him in two different ways, yet he’s here acting like I haven’t ignored him for three days. He makes a big deal when I pretend we never happened but here he is… Doing that exact thing.
This makes no sense to me. At all. But if he can do it, I can, too.
“I have one more question,” he says gruffly, glancing at me.
“Go on,” I say warily.
“Are you gonna be wearing that dress all day?”
I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and look at him innocently. “Why?”
“I… You can’t answer a question with a question.”
“Fine. No, I won’t be.” I cross one of my legs over the other, my dress sliding up my thigh. Reese stretches his fingers on the steering wheel.
“You won’t be?”
“No. We’re going to the beach, right?” He nods. “Well, then. I’ve got my bikini on underneath. I’ll be wearing that.”
“Just that?”
“No, Reese,” I say dryly. “I have a trench coat in my beach bag I was planning on putting on when we get there.”
He’s silent for a second, his eyes flicking to me and back to the road again a few times before he says, “I like it when you turn on the attitude.”
“I don’t have an attitude!”
“Like that.”
“I don’t have an attitude!” I repeat, shifting in my seat. “Do I?”
“Yeah, you do, baby. And I feel like I need to respond with my own attitude.”
“The one that is supposed to sweep me off my feet, right? That attitude?”
We turn off-road, taking the shortcut we used last summer, and Reese nods. “That attitude.”
“And how exactly is that attitude going to help you now?”
The truck swerves suddenly and stops at the side of the empty road. My hand is released, and I hear the click as Reese undoes his seatbelt. He leans over toward me, one hand on the back of my seat and the other resting on my thigh.
I look up from where his hand is on my leg and straight into his eyes. His nose brushes against mine as he breathes out across my lips. My eyes shut slowly, and his fingers dig into my skin a little.
“This attitude,” he whispers huskily, his probing hand moving further up my leg until it reaches my bikini bottoms. He slips a finger under the waistband, running his finger along my skin from my hip to the clenching muscles between my legs, not touching them, and back again. His breath moves across my mouth as he breathes heavier than usual, and I can do nothing but sit here and let him do whatever. I’m frozen in place with anticipation. I’m blazing hot wherever he’s touching me, and everywhere he isn’t is ice cold.
I tilt my head back slightly, but he pulls away. I open my eyes and stare at a sea of gold flecked hazel. Hardened gold flecked hazel. Yep. He’s pissed.