“Only after Camilla and I ended things,” I remark.
“And before you met her,” Cass adds.
“Right.”
“Anyway, it’s getting late,” she says when she gets to her feet and stretches her arms over her head, causing her tiny t-shirt to reveal her flat midriff. “You ready for bed?” she asks.
I start to say yes, but then realize she’s not inviting me to hers where she’s been sleeping with not one but two guys. My mind is blown. Good little girl Cass is all grown up. I should be happy for her, but I’m not.
“Ah, I’m not tired yet. Still on Seattle time,” I respond. “Mind if I stay up and watch television a little longer?”
“Help yourself,” she says as she walks over to the stairs.
She’s halfway up when I blurt out the question racking my brain. “Hey, Bambi?”
“Yeah?” she asks, pausing with her hand on the stair rail.
“Are those guys…will they be coming over this week?”
“Maybe,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders. “But don’t worry. It will only be at night if so, not during the day when we have plans.”
“Wow,” I mutter since having them over at night is so much worse.
“And Mike is taking me to the reunion.”
“Oh?” I ask. “I thought we were, you know, going together.”
“That would have been easier,” Cass agrees. “But you didn’t decide you were coming until about two weeks ago, and I had already asked Mike.”
“How long have you and him been…”
“Seeing each other?” she offers, which sounds nicer than fucking.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve been seeing Mike for a month or two I guess, and Eddie for a few weeks.”
“Mike on his own wasn’t enough?” I ask.
“He didn’t seem interested in a commitment, and Eddie asked me out, so…”
“So you’re doing them both. Gotcha.”
“Don’t get all big brother judgy with me,” Cass warns through narrowed eyes. “Especially when you’re the biggest player I’ve ever met!”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” I tell her honestly. Well, partially honest. The truth is, I’m…jealous.
“I won’t,” she says. “I’m a big girl, and I’m not letting my heart get involved.”
“Good. That’s good,” I reply.
“Night, Xavier.”
“Goodnight,” I say as she disappears, unknowingly leaving me sitting in her living room with a stiff cock trying to punch its way out of my pants leg.
I try to tell myself it’s nothing but my competitive spirit. My cock loves a challenge and conquering unchartered waters.
If Cass is screwing around with two guys, then she’s clearly not getting what she needs from them in or out of the bedroom.
My erection is proudly standing at attention, ready and willing to report for duty. I want to take a shot at being all she needs, fulfilling her every fantasy and blowing her mind.
God, I’m a horrible person.
And it’s all Camilla’s fault that I feel the need to screw my gorgeous best friend to try and boost my own damn ego.
Chapter Four
Cassidy
“Morning, sleepy head!” I say to Xavier from the open doorway of the guest bedroom. And holy crap, he’s even sexier when he’s sleeping. His raven hair is in the shape of a mohawk from where it’s been pressed to the pillow on each side. While I like his clean-shaven face, the morning stubble makes him look less like the smart, sophisticated lawyer he is and more like a rugged, badass fighter. And then there’s his thick bare arms wrapped around a pillow in a chokehold, causing his bowling ball sized biceps to flex.
“Mmm,” he finally murmurs. “What time is it?” That deeper, gravelly voice is rougher than sandpaper and ups the hotness factor even more.
“Eleven,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning a shoulder against the door frame to enjoy the view while I wait for him to get his lazy butt up. “And, sorry, but I didn’t take off a week from work to sleep the whole time you’re here. It’s a beautiful day! We should be outside enjoying it!”
“Jesus Christ, I forgot you were a peppy morning person,” he grumbles when he rolls to his back.
“There’s coffee and a – whoa!” I exclaim when an enormous teepee suddenly pops up in the middle of the bedsheets.
“Sorry,” Xavier says when he slaps his hand over his erection and makes it disappear. Like a game of Whac-A-Mole, I keep watching to see if it will pop up somewhere else in bed, but sadly, it does not. “You’re not the only one who is frisky in the mornings.”
“Obviously,” I say as I spin around with my back to him. “There’s, ah, coffee and cereal downstairs. Or we could grab breakfast on the way to the lake.”
“Needwood?” Xavier asks.
“Huh?” I reply.
“We going to Lake Needwood?”
“Oh, right. The name of the lake,” I say in understanding. “Yeah, that’s where my boat is docked. I thought we could do some fishing maybe?”
“Sounds good,” he replies. “You got any Cheerios?”
“Yep,” I answer with a smile because they were always his favorite, which is why I bought them at the grocery store last week. “I also have skim milk for you even though you may as well use water. It would probably taste better.”
“Thanks,” Xavier says with a gruff chuckle. “I’ll grab a quick shower and head downstairs.”
“Okay,” I agree. “There are plenty of towels and washcloths in the spare bath. And an extra toothbrush in case you forgot yours, along with that rich boy shampoo, body wash, and deodorant you always liked.”
“Tom Ford?” he asks.
“Yep.”
“Wow, Cass. You’re the best.”
“No problem,” I respond since I love the masculine scent of smoked wood and the sea even though it never smells as good as it does on Xavier. “It’s not like I bought it just for you or anything. Mike and Eddie sometimes shower here too in the mornings when they stay over. Not that they stay over on the same night, but you know what I mean. Besides, after this week I may not see you again for another ten years, maybe at our twenty-year reunion…” My rambling comes to a stop when I feel a tug on both sides of my hair.
“The braids are cute,” Xavier says from behind me, having snuck out of bed while I was talking. “They remind me of the first day we met.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
He gives my braids another tug. “And it won’t be another ten years before I come back to visit.”
“Can I please get that in writing, counselor?” I tease when I look at him over my shoulder where he’s hovering over me like a shirtless, blurry-eyed Adonis. “You’ll, ah, be legally obligated to honor any agreement that you sign, right?”
“Camilla was always in a hurry to get home when we came to see my family for holidays,” he says, and I hate the reminder of the evil witch he married. “Now that I’m not legally obligated to try and make her happy, I’ll stay for however fucking long I want.”