I rest my head in the crook of his neck. Run my palm over his broad shoulder. He is so solid. A good guy, his attention never leaving me at the nightclub, from the dance floor to the table I sat at with Hunter and Rhett. I have never felt so safe in my life, including with Dare.
“That’s not the worst of it,” I tell him, needing him to understand this part of me. “The worst part is he asked it of me even though he knew I was pregnant with his baby. I lost the baby, Taron. Lost my way too. I went crazy after that. Slept with any guy who looked my way. It lasted for months until Bounce found me. He took me home to San Diego and helped me straighten my life.”
“Then I owe him. When do I meet him?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“That’s right. I saw his name and Gunner’s in pink. Stood out when there’s only two pink bars for the month.”
Two pink bars. Pregnant? Yes. One bar, no. Taron’s mind must have wandered down that path too.
“Pixie Dust, if you ever get knocked up with my baby, we are locking it up, and you will be mine for life. For life, baby. But only if you want to. I have a crazy temper. Will fuck up any dude who dare look at my girl with hunger in his eyes. Won’t ever ask you to fuck me and any damn cousin of mine.”
“Because you don’t share?”
“Because you’ll be such a big part of my life, there won’t be room in it except for you, me, and everyone and everything that is important to us, Syn. We decide who we let in. Who and what takes up valuable space in our lives.”
“I’d like that.” And I do. “Our work in progress is progressing.”
He plants a kiss on the top of my head. “It is, baby. Now, how about we formulate a plan for snagging us a low life who thinks it’s okay to drug and assault a woman?”
I am right. Taron is such a good guy. And I am falling hard for him. But are we moving too fast?
26
Taron
There is no doubt in anyone’s mind who takes up space in Dare’s life. As soon as I follow Syn inside Dare’s place, I am greeted by a large picture of them hung up on the wall above the fireplace.
Syn looks great in this flowy light-blue short-sleeve shirt and a pair of these daisy dukes she would never dare wear when we were dating. Too short. Showcases her toned, slender legs. Calls attention to her body. Standing next to her is a grinning Dare in a classy button-up dress shirt and khaki shorts. The color of his shirt matches Syn’s eyes.
Standing in front of the red barn with rolling hills of what I think is wheat, they are the quintessential picture of the happy couple.
What the hell is he doing with his arm slung across my girl’s lower back? This surge of jealousy crashes down on me like a rogue wave, and I rein it in, focusing on the crowd gathered in the backyard. Midnight sees me and waves. He is holding a huge metal grilling spatula.
That’s right. We are here for grub, a barbeque. This is my chance to meet and get to know the people who make up Syn’s social circle. Except if asked, I will be disavowing our friends-with-benefits arrangement. I’ll have to dial down the heat between us, what we agreed on on the drive here.
But once I get her back to her place, once I beg her to please, please, please, strum the keys of her piano for me, I’ll strum my fingers down the length of her body. Stroke her clit until she comes, the little nub swollen and slick for me and only me.
Before I can ask where the picture of her and Dare was taken, the guy in question approaches us with drinks in hand.
“A mojito for you.” He hands me my glass. I raise a brow. He grins from ear to ear. “Like I said, man, a friend of Syn’s is a friend of mine. Now that you’re my bro, I had to know your choice of poison. You sure you won’t trade that foo-foo drink for something more hardcore?”
“Like what?” I sip rather than down my foo-foo drink, having plans later to do dirty things to Syn’s body. Gotta be sober for that. I dig her sex noises. Fucking love when she comes on my fingers, my face, my dick.
“Shots. Lots and lots of them. Then”—he jerks his head at the winding staircase behind me—“we go down the stairs on a mattress, butt-ass naked.”
I laugh. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“Nah, man.” He shifts his attention to Syn, handing her a full shot glass of something amber. “How about it, B?”
My head swivels to Syn so fast, I’m surprised I didn’t torque my neck. “Hold up. That true?”
Shit, which part? The naked part or the part about taking a buttload of shots? Because dammit, I cannot picture Syn doing either. She is a sweet girl. A quiet girl. A girl who is not wild. Was a sweet girl. Was quiet. Syn 2.0 is wild and up for trying crazy things. Fuck sakes, she let me rim her and finger her hole.
Dare saddles his arm across Syn’s small shoulders. “Kid you not. This girl can outdrink a frat boy too.”
“I should bypass the shots and the stairs, Dare.”
“Why’s that? You never did before. Is it because he’s here?”
Dare points a thick finger at me, the friendliness from earlier gone and replaced with hostility. The me from a week ago—yeah, a week and I completely agree with Syn that we are moving too fast, but I’m not up for putting the brakes on our “progress”—I would have socked him in the face for questioning what my girl did and doesn’t want to do.
Except I am here for grub and to get to know Syn’s friends.
“She’s taking a pass ’cause she’s aiming to go for a swim. That’s all she talked about on the drive over.”
The small lie gets me the effect I am aiming for. Wide smile on headcase’s face. “Syn does love the water. Come on, B, let’s get you changed into one of your itty-bitty bikinis and get you a weak-as-fuck spiked seltzer before company shows up.”
“Company?”
“A surprise.”
“You know I don’t like surprises.”
“Believe me, you are going to like this one.”
They head for the stairs with Dare’s arm across Syn’s shoulders. He glances back, and not clueless, he shoots me one of those weird maniacal grins and says, “Don’t think for a minute you fooled me, hashtag TD. I know B down to the birthmark on her inner right thigh, and this boy will not be outsmarted or outplayed by an outsider.”
“Dare.”
If I were Dare, I would listen to the warning in Syn’s voice, but the guy doesn’t listen worth a damn. Go figure. He turns them around, and still touching my girl, he points his middle finger at me.
“You planning on breaking her heart?”
“Negative that.”
“Smart ass. You plan on sticking around Dumas?”
“That’s between me and Syn.”
“A fucking lie. It’s either a yes or a no.”
“Dare.”
“Don’t Dare me, Syn. I am not a kid. I am looking out for your best interest.”
“Why? You have feelings for her?” Fuck, why’d I voice my suspicion?
If he says yes, I can kiss my progress with Syn goodbye. Dare is a Sterling and, according to Andy, possessive as fuck. He will never let Syn go if he is in love with her. And Syn? She might say her body is mine exclusively, but her loyalty and friendship are to Dare.
“Syn, tell him exactly what I am to you. Don’t hold back, B. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.”
He’s putting the ball in her court? Or do they know where they stand with the other? Whatever it is, they have stoked my curiosity. A guy and a girl cannot be friends. I have always believed that. Eventually, someone will want more out of the friendship.
Syn sighs, and taking Dare’s arm off her shoulders, she places it on the spot above her heart. I cannot take my eyes off the back of his hand on my girl’s heart. Is this the part when she gives me the devasting truth, that she’s sticking around Dumas for him?
“Taron, Dare is like a brother to me. We’re friends. He gave you a hard time because he’s protective, like a big brother for his little sister. There’s nothing between us.”
“Of course I do. I love her. Like. A. Sister.” Huge smile on his face again, and he opens his arms. “Come here. Group hug.”
Fuck. Fuck. I am so relieved, I step into his man-hug. Shoulder bump him. Hug Syn to me the same time he does the same. We stay like that, and that is how Dare’s “surprise” for Syn finds us when Midnight opens the door.
None of us heard the doorbell ring. Dare and I are too loud bullshitting with one another over who had the better poker face, and who was ready to pummel the other first. I admitted that he had the poker face, and I was the one ready to do the beating. He laughed and had the balls to collar me and smash his knuckles on the top of my head, messing up my hair.
That fucker.
“Hey, Syn, guess who is here?”
We face the door. Syn lets out a squeal and runs over to a girl her height and build and comes to a dead stop in front of her and her entourage.
I shake my head. Entourage is the wrong word. The four guys, dressed in dark suits and wearing aviator sunglasses, are the woman’s bodyguards. The one with the deep scar transecting his face sets the suitcase he is holding onto the floor.
“Hello, Syn.”
The woman’s voice is soft and friendly. She has on one of those pants suits. The royal blue highlights her tan and her long black hair. On her arms, up to her sleeves, are white satin gloves.
She lifts her sunglasses off her face and rests them on top of her head. Her bright eyes sweep the room and lock on me. One eye is blue and the other green. So it’s true. Blaise Lexington has different-color eyes.
“Blaise, I’ve missed you.”
They do this air kiss thing, aiming for each other’s cheeks but not touching skin.
“I was hoping you would stop by. I saw on TMZ you were at the gala in Alexandria.”
“Of course, I’d swing by. How could I come to Washington and not visit my three favorite people? Who is this with you?”
Syn glances over her shoulder and smiles at me. “My friend Taron. We grew up together.”
“Hello. It’s nice to meet more of Syn’s friends. She has nice friends.”
She clasps her gloved hands in front of her and gives me a slight nod and a small smile. Another surprise. Blaise Lexington isn’t the ice queen people have said she is.
“Who is ready for pool time?”
Midnight comes back inside, having gone out to check on what he has on the grill. Blaise must have given her bodyguards some secret agent signal. The guys book it up the stairs after Dare, except for the dude with the scar. He follows Midnight out the sliding glass door and into the backyard.
Syn hangs back, her gaze swinging from me to Blaise to where Dare disappeared to.
“Do you mind if I have time with your friend?” Blaise asks.
“Not at all. Go easy on him.”
Syn gives me a quick peck on the cheek. Chaste. Tame. Fuck, I want her mouth full on mine, tasting me as I fist my fingers in her hair.
She hurries up the stairs, and I check out her swaying hips and tight ass. Damn, those hips can move, and double damn, her ass is tight. Is Syn purposefully getting me hot and bothered? Is she testing my self-restraint? ’Cause if I had my way, I’d be claiming her mouth and pawing her fine body in front of her friends.
There’s feminine laughter next to me. Blaise smiles. It’s not a flirty one but shy. And the look on her face is what I would call wonderment.
“I’ve seen guys hit on Syn at parties, and she’s never openly teased one before.”
My suspicion is spot on.
“Dare included?”
“Yes.”
Her admission does something to my heart. It speeds up knowing that I have leverage over Syn’s best friend. Could I be Syn’s guy while giving up the best friend title to Dare? I’ll have to mull over that thought more. If I had my way, Syn would be my girl and my best friend, like old times. But how well did that work out for us? It didn’t.
Already a poor friend for not looking out for Syn’s shy and famously reclusive friend, I open my mouth to ask Blaise if she wants me to get her a drink or pour her a shot. Not my place, but I can find my way around just fine. Except someone is ringing the doorbell. Syn and Dare aren’t in a hurry to get the door. Neither is Midnight or Blaise. Shrugging, I saunter over and open the door.
Two girls are standing on the other side. One is Asian, and the other is slim and tall with long brown hair.
“You must be Syn’s friend Taron. Arie Kim, nice to meet you. This is Ever Moretti.”
“Hey.” I step aside and let them through.
It’s nice for a change that they keep their gazes on my face. Nice, too, that they’re not backstabbing Syn by flirting or trying to get with me. It’s happened before. I am not out to destroy friendships. There are girls who do so on their own.
“Where is everyone?” Ever asks, looking around. “Oh, hi, Blaise.”
She waves. Blaise waves back.
“Do you both go to DU?”
“Yep.” Smiling, Arie also waves to Blaise.
“Cool.” I stick out my fist.
The girls and I fist bump before they hurry up the stairs. They must do this barbequing and swimming thing often. How often do they go down the stairs buck naked riding on a mattress? I groan, picturing Syn’s bouncing tits and wearing nothing but her big-ass grin.
I turn back to Blaise.
“Do you want something to drink?”
“Water is good, thank you.”
“You going swimming?” I tip my head at the sliding glass door.
“My kind of swimming isn’t decent.”
“What kind is that?” I can put in a guess.
“Skinny dipping.”
Yeah, not decent at all.
“How about you?”
“Yeah, I can go for a swim naked, but only with Syn.”
“Because you two grew up together and are friends?”
I am ready to give her the truth. That Syn and I are together, and we are definitely not friends. Then I remember what I promised Syn. Disavow. I would rather shout to the world that Syn Winters is mine. Except she made a good argument. I hired her to be my PA.
Stepping over the line of professionalism makes her uncomfortable. A happy Syn is preferable to an uneasy Syn. It’s the reason I agreed to keeping the heat between us a secret. Thank fuck for getting paired to work on our sex ed class project. It’s how we’ll explain away us spending all our time together.
“Because she’s the only girl I want to see naked,” I admit.
“You’re a good friend, then.”
“I aim to be.” I leave out the word more. I amble to the fridge and grab bottled water for Blaise. I am guessing she isn’t fond of drinking. Or swimming. Syn, Dare, Syn’s friends, and Blaise’s bodyguards come down the stairs in their swimsuits and swim trunks.
Blaise’s guys are polite and respectful with the girls, keeping their gazes on the girls’ faces. Dare is a different beast altogether. He runs his greedy eyes up and down Ever’s and Arie’s lithe bodies. I have to give him credit for eyeing only those two.
He leaves my girl alone, though he did look over his shoulder on his way out of the sliding glass door and shoot me a sly grin. Whatever, man. I am not interested in Blaise, and the bastard knows it. He just likes giving me a hard time. And the thing is, I don’t mind. I can get used to his ribbing. Him ribbing on me means he likes me, and Syn’s best friend liking rather than hating me is a win in my book.
But is it enough to take our work in progress to the next level, a finished piece of work that we can write “The End” to? What is the end for us? Us together? Or us apart, our lives and priorities too different to make it work?
Only time will tell, and I have her for the next three months. Guaranteed.
27
Taron
“I like your frie
nds, Pixie Dust.”
“They like you too.” She turns into me, her hair brushing my nose.
We are on her bed. It’s eleven at night, and I am not in a rush to leave her place.
“How was the heated pool? Sorry I didn’t join you.”
“Pool was good. Dare can be such a ball hog.” They played their version of water polo. That’s what Midnight said when he brought a ready-made plate of grilled vegetables for Blaise and two loaded burgers for me, as well as two hot dogs.
That guy is the bomb. Understands we guys have large appetites.
“How was your time with Blaise?”
“Good. She had me doing the heavy lifting in our convo. Asked all sorts of questions about my life. Places I’ve been to and would like to travel to. What it’s like at Stanford. What it’s like traveling with the team. My favorite place as a child. She asked a shit ton of personal questions.”
“Were you nice and answered them? Or politely say it’s none of her business?”
“Hopefully I came off that way. She can be intimidating as all get out with her two-colored eyes. She’d make a great interrogator.”
“Blaise doesn’t like confrontation or conflict. And she most definitely doesn’t like speaking about herself.”
“She lives her life through others’.”
“You homed in on that.” Surprise in her voice. “Yes, she does.” Syn traces her finger over the front of my shirt. Up. Down. Up. Down.
I stop the motion with my hand on hers. “She’s really messed up, Syn.”
“Don’t pity her. She doesn’t want it.”
“I—” I blow out a breath. “I hope she finds what makes her happy.” I see the sadness in Blaise’s eyes when she thinks no one is watching.
Give You Up (Dumas University Book 1) Page 15