by Marie James
“You don’t think it’ll be weird to see Kennedy after so long?” Ivy asks.
I shrug, but I honestly haven’t given it much thought. The girl is a part of my past, no doubt. I lost my virginity to her right before the beginning of my senior year. In that moment, I would’ve vowed everything I had to keep her, but after she went to California for her music and I discovered college girls in Denver, the devotion to her faded pretty quickly.
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”
I look up to find a weird look on Cannon’s face.
“What?” I ask him.
“I know you’re trying to hook up with Camryn, but is it really smart to put the two of them in the same place at the same time?”
“Samson Lee Donovan, if you use either one to make the other jealous, I’ll never speak to you again,” Ivy warns.
“That would be really shitty,” my sister adds.
“I wouldn’t do that. Kennedy is in my past, and Camryn is my—”
“What?” Cannon asks. “Your future. Dude, really?”
“Maybe?” I scrape my hands over my head, hating being in the spotlight by all of my friends. “I’m just trying to get the woman to consider dating me. I’m not to the point that I’m planning a fucking wedding or something.”
“Mouth,” Lawson warns.
“Sorry,” I mumble to the ladies. “I just want to spend time with her, and it’s been difficult even doing that since she bolts every chance she gets.”
“What happens if you’ve built her up in your fantasies only to find out that you two aren’t compatible?” When the hell did Cannon get all introspective and philosophical?
“That’s a good question,” Ivy praises and Delilah nods in agreement before turning her eyes to me.
“I won’t be able to answer that question until I get to know her better,” I tell them.
“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” Griffin says. “Cannon wasn’t the only one that saw you two together at the Fourth of July thing. I caught glimpses as well. That kiss was filled with chemistry.”
I smile at the memory.
“But I do think you have your work cut out for you,” Griffin continues. “I was talking to your da—”
“My dad?” I hiss. “You gossip more than a damn woman.”
“Hey!”
“Hey!”
Both Ivy and Delilah say at the insult.
“Dr. Alverez is a huge advocate about talking things through.”
“I’m pretty sure she means talking your own shit through, not discussing what’s going on in my life with my dad.” Griffin smiles, and I can’t help but match the expression. He’s in a much better place than he was when I got home six weeks ago. “What did Dad say?”
“Jaxon said that women who kiss you with passion and then run away have their own stuff they’re working through and that it probably has more to do with her than any fault of yours.”
Ivy lays her head on his shoulder, and I almost want to ask what it means when a woman never backs down or walks away like she did, but then I look across to Lawson and Delilah, knowing that he was the reason she didn’t give in on the first try when he tried to get her back.
“Or,” Cannon adds, since I’m sure he can tell the mood of the group is changing, “maybe you have stinky breath, and she’s grossed out.”
I rise from the lounger and run at him full speed, hitting him in the chest with my shoulder. The chair skids across the concrete, and the girls screech as the two of us and the chair plunge into the pool. By the time we both resurface, we’re sputtering and laughing our asses off.
Chapter 14
Camryn
“Get up,” Charli says with a quick slap to the back of my thigh.
“Not going,” I grumble as I reach back and rub the sting away before tugging the blanket off the back of the couch and covering myself with it. Next, she’ll start with the pinching, and I need to be prepared.
“You already said you would. Don’t start this shit with me.” Her foot stomps, and I don’t even have to look to know she’s got one hip cocked out and her arms are crossed over her chest.
Turning my head, I smile into the throw pillow on the couch and bury myself deeper under the throw blanket. “So comfy.”
“Seriously, Cam. Get up.”
Instead of smacking me again, the crazy woman jumps on my back and pulls the blanket off my head.
“It’s two hours until you were leaving,” I argue. “I have plenty of time.”
“Before we’re leaving,” she specifies. “And it’s going to take four hours to get your hair under control. It’s a mess.”
I hiss in pain when she tries to run her fingers through my hair, and it gets stuck about halfway down.
“I’m not going,” I mumble and shift my weight so I can see the TV again. She’s not having it.
“You are going. You already promised you would.”
“I was under duress. I have no interest in going.”
“You always do this,” she complains with a huff as she presses both of her palms to my back and shakes me. “We make plans, and then when it’s time to follow through, you back out of them at the last minute.”
“I’m tired,” I lie. I’m actually bored out of my mind.
“You’ve done nothing but lay on the couch all day. You’re more than rested.”
“I have to work tomorrow.”
“It’s a couple of hours at a bar, not a three-day bender. Get up.”
“Fine,” I grumble as she climbs off me and I move to stand up, all the while trying to hide the smirk on my face.
I’m torn between going and seeing Samson or going and not seeing him, or worse yet going and seeing him with someone else. We haven’t talked in the last three weeks. There have been no surprise visits at work, or accidental run-ins at the mall, even though I’ve been twice as often recently since Charli told me she ran into the guys there. Cannon seems like the type to go regularly to troll for women, but I was shocked when she told me about Samson and Griffin being there.
I can’t count how many times I’ve thought about that kiss. Even running it through my head and taking out the fireworks and the electricity bouncing between us, I can’t deny that it was epic, magical even, and that scares the hell out of me. Actually, the way he protected me, pulling me against his chest to keep others from shoving me around felt just as good, and that’s the confusing part. I’ve never felt the need to be protected before, but there was just something about the way he held me that fried my brain.
“Get a shower,” Charli demands with authority. “Make sure you clean everything really good and shave.”
Frowning at her, I bend to run my hand over my calf. “I shaved yesterday. It’ll be fine.”
“That’s not what I meant.” With raised eyebrows, my friend blatantly glares at the crotch of my yoga pants. “Freshen up the kitty, but don’t take too long, it’s going to take a miracle to get that ever-present ponytail bump out of your hair.
I spend forty-five minutes in the shower, ten minutes more than it should’ve taken, but annoying Charli is one of my favorite pastimes.
“Seriously?” Charli asks when I step into the hallway with one towel wrapped around my hair and another around my body.
“What?” I feign innocence as she follows me into my bedroom to get dressed. “I went ahead and did a hot oil treatment.”
“Oh.” She smiles. “Good, that makes my life easier.”
She busies herself plugging in who knows how many hair appliances as I pull on panties and a bra.
“Nope,” she hisses when she looks over her shoulder at me. “That doesn’t even match.”
“What does it matter?” I ask, pulling the towel from my hair and using it to dry my long locks a little more. “No one is going to see me naked.”
“You never know,” Charli insists as she crosses the room, pulling a matching bra and panty set from my top drawer. “You’ll wear these.”
>
Picking my battles and deciding this one just isn’t worth it, I swipe the items from her hand and change.
“You don’t think black lace is a little much for a bar?”
“Who’s going to see it?” She teases with a wink in the mirror as I turn left and right to get a better look at myself.
I pinch my sides and the tops of my thighs as she runs a brush through my long hair.
“You look amazing, so stop that shit.” She smacks my hand when I run fingers along the slight rounding of my stomach.
“I wish I had time to work out,” I mumble.
“You have time to work out. You spent the entire day on the couch,” she reminds me.
“Ugh. Well, I wish I didn’t like pasta so much.”
“Quit.” She smacks me on the ass with the back of my brush when I jiggle my legs, watching the slight shake of my inner thighs.
“Ouch.” I rub the welt forming on my ass cheek and turn to glare at her. “You don’t have jiggly thighs.”
“I spend a lot of time on top.” Her grin is wicked, but honestly, I can see that being both fun and a good work out all in one. I wonder if Samson likes a girl on top? Who am I kidding; every man likes a woman on top. I shake my head the second the thought hits me because I don’t have the luxury of fantasizing about Samson while my friend is in the room, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.
“Dry while I go get that new Urban Decay palette.”
Charli hands me the blow dryer and disappears. When she returns, her arms are loaded down with makeup which took so long for her to gather that my hair is already dry.
“We’re watching a band play at a local bar, not entering a beauty pageant. We don’t need all of that.”
“Yes, we do,” she argues.
“Maybe you do, but I have no interest in putting fifteen different types of makeup on my face.”
“You suck.” Her words are mean, but at least she says them with a smile. “What are you planning on then? Clothes? Makeup?”
I point over my shoulder to the bed where my clothes for the night are tossed. “I’m thinking mascara and lip gloss.”
“One,” Charli says, lifting the capri pants I have laid out with two fingers like it’s covered in bugs, “you’re not wearing capris. You’re twenty-eight, not fifty-eight. Two, there’s no way I’m letting you out of this apartment with a wash and wear t-shirt on.”
“At least it’s a women’s cut.”
“No, Camryn. Are you purposely trying to keep guys from noticing you? I’ll find you something worth wearing tonight.” She spends the next ten minutes in my closet tossing things all over. The deeper she goes, the more frustrated her mumbled complaints become.
“You’re going to clean that damn mess you’re making,” I warn her.
“You don’t have shit to wear,” she bitches when she reemerges. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m not wearing a body contour dress to Jake’s,” I call after her when she walks out of my room.
I chuckle when she lifts her middle finger over her head.
Deciding not to waste any more time, I pick up the heated flat iron and pray my hair cooperates with me today. When Charli returns, she looks like she did earlier, only now she’s got a mass of clothes in her arms rather than makeup.
“I don’t care what you pick, but you will pick something from this pile.”
Putting the flat iron down, I rummage through the clothes, begrudgingly settling on a slinky top with spaghetti straps and skirt I know won’t show my ass if I have to bend over for any reason this evening.
“Happy?”
“I was hoping you’d pick the red skirt, but that white one is cute, too. It’s got a virginal vibe to it,” she says as I tug the skirt up my legs. “Men love the idea of deflowering innocent women.”
“I’d only disappoint them, since I was deflowered long ago,” I mutter before pulling the top over my head and turning to check out the progress in the mirror. “Crap.”
I snap the exposed bra strap against my shoulder.
“This shirt isn’t going to work.”
“That bra isn’t going to work,” Charli counters before reaching under the top and unsnapping the bra.
“I’d rather change my shirt. I don’t want to be tugging up a strapless bra all night.”
“Then you go braless.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
“Quit being a baby.”
“If my nipples get hard everyone around will know.”
She winks at me in the mirror. “That’s half the fun.”
“So virginal on the bottom and a little freaky on the top? I don’t think so.”
She grabs my wrist before I can reach my dresser to find my strapless bra. “Nope. We need to do your makeup.”
With a huff, I sit down on the end of my bed. “Lip gloss and mascara only, remember?”
“Yep,” she agrees, but I know she’s got other plans when she bends over her makeup case and begins to dig through it.
Charli lied. By the time my makeup is on, I have lashes for days and smoky eyes so perfect, I’ll never be able to replicate the look again.
My friend opts for a skirt three inches shorter than mine and a tight top, also sans bra. For moral support she claims, but I think she’s excited about the prospect of men in the bar staring at her chest.
“How do you think Scooter will feel having to fight guys off of you all night?” I ask as we gather essentials to put in tiny purses for the night.
“Scooter and I are casual, so he doesn’t have any right to fight anyone off me. Plus, he texted earlier and said that he and the other guys were going out of town for a while. He won’t be there tonight.”
“So that’s why you’re dressed like you’re on the prowl?”
“I’m always on the prowl.”
She curls her fingers and fakes a cat scratch in my direction.
“Oh Lord,” I moan as she opens the apartment door and shoves me outside. “This night is going to be a disaster.”
“It’s going to be epic and unforgettable.”
For once, my friend is right.
Chapter 15
Samson
I nod at another couple as they enter the bar. I feel like a total creep standing outside of Jake’s while all of my friends are already inside, but my delay in entering is twofold. I don’t want to chance running into Kennedy before her band takes the stage, and I’m also hoping to catch Camryn and Charli on their way in.
I haven’t had any luck on the second part, but ‘Beyond the Lies’ just took the stage and are currently rocking through their first song.
When the door swings open again, I decide that the girls aren’t coming and head inside to join my friends. I find my group at their regular table right on the edge of the dance floor. Surprisingly, Delilah has some sort of mixed drink in her hand. Also, unsurprisingly, Gigi is tossing shots back like she’s never been out of the house before.
Izzy is with them, looking too young to even be in the bar, but the huge black X on her right hand ensures that she won’t be served tonight. Lawson is on a stool with his arms wrapped around my sister as she sways to the blaring music. Cannon has already detached from the group, probably seeking out company for the night.
I sidestep Lawson and my sister and take up a position on the opposite side of the table.
“Wanna sneak a shot?” Gigi asks, having to yell over the loud music. She holds a shot glass filled to the brim with dark liquor in front of my face.
“No, thanks.” I shake my head when she lifts it higher.
She knows better, and just because she may have done a lot of drinking before she turned twenty-one last month, I don’t drink in public. There’s always the risk of any number of Cerberus members being here tonight and behaving in public has always been a hard-fast rule for my dads. They won’t tolerate any bad behavior or any improprieties while we’re out. The reputation of Cerberus is mostly well-received by the
community, but there are always a handful of single-minded people who think the club is a breeding ground for immoral and sinful activity lurking around looking for a reason to bad-mouth it.
When I look over at Lawson, I find him frowning at Gigi as she tilts up the shot she offered me and downs it in one swallow. I know Hound tasked him with keeping an eye on her, and he’ll reel her in if she takes things too far. I also have to consider what she’s feeling right now. It can’t be easy to watch Hound leave again after the tragedy she almost suffered a couple of months ago.
“Oh, this is their best song!” Delilah’s face lights up, and she doubles her dancing.
I’ve heard a couple of songs by ‘Beyond the Lies’, but they aren’t my favorite group. My musical tastes tilt more toward country than any other genre, but I have to agree that the song they’re now performing on stage is catchy.
Grinning when Delilah switches her fruity drink out for a bottle of water, I feel more at ease. I don’t doubt Lawson’s ability to keep her safe, but with his attention split between her and Gigi, I know he’s got his hands full. Two intoxicated women would pose complications for anyone.
“It’s crazy out there!” Ivy says when she and Griffin arrive back at the table. Her cheeks are flushed, and both of them have a sheen of sweat glistening on their foreheads, but she doesn’t seem like she’s actually complaining.
“Is she here yet?” Ivy asks as she picks up a bottle of water from the table.
She downs half of the thing before raising her eyebrows to force me to answer her.
“Haven’t seen her.”
“Have you looked for her?” she asks.
“I will,” I promise, unsure of how I’ll find her in the crush of people packed in the bar tonight.
“Let’s go,” Ivy urges, clasping Griffin’s hand and trying to drag him back out on the dance floor.
Griffin tugs on her arm to keep her close to him. “Let’s take a little longer break.”
“I wanna dance,” Ivy argues, but Griffin looks like he needs a break, more from the noise and people crowding around us than an energy boost to dance.
“I’ll dance with you,” I offer, looking at Griffin to make sure it’s okay with him.