“You haven’t left the comfort of your home or office in years I bet,” Cass says. “Could you go days and nights without a phone?”
“Gladly,” I reply. Lowering the reel to the ground to prop up my fishing pole on the edge of the boat, I pull my phone from my jean pocket to check it for messages. Holding it up, I tell her honestly, “Some days I wish I could just throw this damn thing away.”
Camilla is still constantly sending me text messages and shit. I should block her number, but I haven’t yet, for some unknown reason.
Before I can blink, Cass lets go of her rod to reach over. She plucks my phone from my fingers and then tosses it into the lake. “Whoops,” she says when it lands with a plop before it sinks down into the murky water.
My jaw hangs open, and it takes several long moments before I can speak. The whole time I’m flailing, Cass is laughing her ass off.
“I can’t believe you did that!” I tell her when I finally recover.
“Believe it, buddy. Your wish is my command.” Spreading her arms wide, Cass takes in a deep breath. “This is your chance to reconnect with nature and disconnect from the stress of the rest of the world.”
“What if the office calls needing my help on a case?” I ask.
“The rest of the attorneys have law degrees too. I’m sure they can figure out whatever it is without your help.”
“You’re trying to get me fired,” I accuse.
“No, I’m not,” she huffs.
“Yes, you are!”
“Would that be the worst thing if you got fired and had to move home?” she asks. And no, it really wouldn’t be, not that I’m ready to admit that to her.
Instead, I say, “Would it be the worst thing if the clothes you’re wearing get wet?”
“Huh?”
I’m out of my seat and picking her up around her waist faster than she can figure out my intentions. When she lands in the lake, she makes a splash so big that even I get wet.
Cass’s head surfaces with strands of her stringy, dripping blonde hair plastered to her angry face.
“Whoops,” I say with a grin.
She grabs on to the rail on the side of the boat. “You’re gonna feel really shitty if I get a brain-eating amoeba from the bacteria in the water and die.”
“You’re right,” I say on a sigh before I take a running jump off the boat. Wrapping my arm around my knees, I cannonball into the water for maximum splash.
As soon as my feet hit the bottom of the shallow depths, I kick my way up to resurface and swipe a hand over my wet face. “If you’re gonna die from a brain-eating amoeba, then I’ll just have to go with you.”
“That’s real smart, genius,” Cass says before she splashes water in my face.
“I would never forgive myself if I hurt you, much less killed you from a very rare infection.”
“Then we both may only have a few days to live,” she replies while treading water. “Guess we should make the most of them.”
“We should,” I agree. And then I immediately feel shitty when my first thought is to pull her to me and kiss her while my hands work quickly to remove our wet clothing.
Those stupid notions need to stop. I’ve been selfishly fucking my way through women to make myself feel better, and Cassidy deserves better.
I also know that kissing Cass would give her the wrong idea, and that wouldn’t be fair to her because she would think it means more than it does.
Cass is my best friend; and after going years when I barely got to see her, I don’t want to live without her in my life. If we hooked up, it would probably ruin everything, because I would end up hurting her and she would never forgive me.
“I bet I can swim faster than you to the shore and back to the boat,” Cass challenges. And beating her at something is one thing I’ll never feel guilty about.
“You’re on –” I start to say when she splashes me and takes off laughing, getting a head start.
Chapter Five
Cassidy
After we got home from the lake and showered before putting on dry clothes, I dragged Xavier to Havoc, as promised.
Not that we showered together or anything or that the idea ever crossed my mind…more than a handful of times while the hot water was washing over my naked body.
Nope, definitely not.
We’ve been at the gym for about half an hour before I spot the obvious – Xavier was made for the cage. He looks at home in it. And sexy. Really damn sexy. While I may tease him later about the spandex shorts that leave very little to the imagination, I sort of love them. He’s shirtless too, revealing all those enormous muscles he usually keeps hidden under layers of clothing. It should be a crime for him to wear a suit. I don’t know which is more impressive — his biceps, his pectorals or his abs. Ooh, definitely those V-shaped pelvic indentions leading down into the black spandex shorts…
Someone interrupts my perusal when they rub a white towel over my lips.
Jerking back, I exclaim, “What the…hey!” When I recognize the culprit as Macy, Xavier’s little sister, I give her a hug.
“Hey yourself! I was wiping up your drool,” she says with a snicker when she pulls away from our embrace.
“I wasn’t drooling,” I say as I turn my head to subtly wipe the corners of my lips just to make sure. When I glance over at Macy again, she’s arching a dark eyebrow, giving me her you’re-full-of-shit look that’s so similar to Xavier’s.
I haven’t seen her in a few weeks but not much has changed. She still wears her dark hair in tight braids against her head while she’s training. She’s a few inches shorter than Xavier and myself, but there are cuts of muscle on her arms while mine are lean and…weak.
“You’ve wanted my brother forever,” Macy says. “You’re telling me that’s suddenly changed now that he’s staying under the same roof with you? He’s single; you’re single.”
“No clue what you’re talking about,” I mutter. “And I am dating.”
“Nothing serious yet, though, right?” she asks. Without even waiting for my response, she laces her fingers through the cage fence, and says, “Although, now that I think about it, I mean, it’s possible you’ve changed your mind after cohabitating. I lived in a house with Zave for years, and pigs are probably more hygienic.”
“I-I don’t want him like that,” I argue while watching Xavier carry out some punch and kick combo in the cage so flawlessly that it looks like a form of ballet. “We’re friends. Just friends.”
“I’d find that assertion more believable if you could say it without staring at him with your nipples pointing the way.”
Without a thought, I slap my arm over my chest.
“I’m…I’m just cold,” I look over and tell her.
“Just friends. Just cold. So many excuses,” Macy grumbles with a roll of her brown eyes. “But whatever. Keep lying to yourself. And eventually Zave will start dating some other ho-bag wanna be model and it’ll be too late. Then, you’ll have to smile and pretend like your heart isn’t breaking into a million pieces through another one of his boring weddings.”