His eyes dart up, leveling on me hatefully. “I hear her. I’m not fucking deaf. And Caroline is aware of my answer by way of my silence. Feel free to remove yourself from my family situation.”
Whoa. What the fuck? Excuse me, Your Majesty.
Giving a raise of my eyebrows as I turn away, I right myself in my seat, feeling the rage rise from my toes. Caroline snatches her small pink bag from the table, giving Grey the look of death before she turns and saunters out of the cafeteria. The table is bathed in uncomfortable silence, partially from Grey and the other from the quiet hate coursing through my body.
I shift my gaze to Liam, who furrows his brows and shakes his head like “just leave it,” but I’m pissed. It’s one thing to fight with everyone else, but Grey doesn’t speak to me like this. He doesn’t exclude me from his life. And he certainly doesn’t call anyone “family” without it being me. I push my tray away and glare at him. Before I can say anything, he steals my chance.
“It’s a sore spot. Don’t make it something it’s not.”
“That’s not enough.”
“What’s enough?”
“Answers. Then an apology.”
Grey grips my chair, turning it roughly toward him. “Well, Cherry, I’ll answer your fucking questions when you start answering mine.” Asshole.
I know exactly what he means. He’s talking about what he asked me at the theater. The question that went unanswered. The one that keeps building momentum at every turn.
When I don’t respond, he shakes his head. “No? That’s what I thought.” He pushes my chair back, looking to the table. “Change of subject. Red Oak.”
The banter starts up obediently by the other guys, volleying shit talk about the opposition. But I’m seething, mainly because I was checkmated. Dick. I take a bite of my apple and try to diminish my anger by listening to the conversation, but it’s not working. My mind keeps mulling over how easily he essentially told me to shut the fuck up.
It’s one thing to ask me to respect his privacy but quite another to verbally spank me. And in front of Caroline, of all people. It was cruel. He’s an arrogant ruler, but I’m not under his thumb.
“Okay. Wait a minute,” I interject, sorting through an idea from something I just heard. “You guys act like you’re so superior. Why is this even a thing with Red Oak?”
Kai leans forward, smiling. “We are superior, but we make this match harder—choosing to race in the old-school wooden boats, not the speedier composite ones we get for the season. We also let the other team pick a member to sit out. It can be any of the positions save our one and two—the captain and co-captain.”
“And the one and two for Hillcrest?”
“Us,” Liam answers, motioning between him Grey.
“And for Red Oak?”
Ethan takes a swig of his Coke, setting it back on the table. “Paul Hearst and this dick named Troy.”
My fingers find my bracelets, the thought beginning to form but not enough to stick yet.
“Got it. So you tie one hand behind your back, so to speak.”
Liam claps his hands together, wagging his eyebrows. “Exactly.”
“And they’ve never beat you?”
Grey’s deep voice comes from beside me. “Never.”
It seems insane to me that Grey and Liam have never lost. But that’s precisely what Grey needs. To be given some humility. To lose something he treasures so he appreciates what he’s been given.
“What makes this year different?”
The thought that was circulating begins to take shape, enough for me to grab hold.
Liam leans in to answer. “They have a bigger powerhouse…or middle of the boat, so they’ll likely take Kai, but even if we take one of their powerhouses, their remaining guys are bigger than ours.”
“Which means you could lose.”
It’s not a question even though they all nod. My teeth find my bottom lip, gnawing, as my eyes drift between all of them.
“But what do you lose?”
I know the answer before they say it.
“Pride,” Grey responds, but I don’t look at him, instead directing my eyes at Kai.
Of everyone at this table, Kai’s the person who will take the bait and run with it. Be prepared to be taken down, Grey. A whole ton of pegs.
“Ouch. It seems to me that you need a motivator. Something you want to win, more than the hatred you’ll feel over losing your pride. You know, up the ante.”
Everyone sits silent. They’re considering what I’m saying. My fingers slowly twist a bottle cap from Liam’s soda on the table when Ethan pipes up. “Money?” But everyone shakes their head.
Kai smiles, looking at Grey. “A car?”
I should push that, then cross my fingers he loses that beautiful machine, but I have an even better idea. A foolproof one.
“Very James Dean of you, but probably not,” I teasingly counter, popping a grape in my mouth and waiting for my moment.
“There’s nothing,” Grey states resolutely. “Nothing that we’d wager over our pride.”
“Nothing?” I question, turning to face him, this time trying to hide my smugness.
“No.”
“What about a kiss?” The muscle in his jaw ticks. “From me?”
I hear Kai say, “Oh shit,” in the background, but it’s the anger in Grey’s dark brown eyes that entertains me. I turn to the table and place my palms on the wooden table.
“We win, I kiss Kai. We lose, I give Paul Hearst a big fat juicy tonguefest.”
“No, no, no, no” is rung out around me, furiously by Kai and Liam, but Grey’s silent.
Cat got your tongue, or are you pissed you won’t have mine? That’ll be two people before you ever got your chance.
His glare is boring a hole right through mine. Grey’s pissed. And I’m satisfied.
“No fucking way,” he growls.
Kai sits back in his seat, pushing his hands against the table to tip his chair back. “Actually, it’s an obvious motivator. No offense, but the girl’s got your number. You might be an evil genius, Blondie, but there’s one hiccup.”
My eyes meet Kai’s, wondering where I could have misstepped. There’s no hiccup.
“Caroline would declare world war three and you just made peace. You’ll have to kiss one of them.”
I didn’t think Kai and Caroline were that serious. Especially since I’m pretty sure I heard that girl Mila talking about how amazing Kai is in bed during Poli Sci. My head swings back and forth between the Liam and Grey, brows drawing in. Shit, fuck. Nope. Not the plan. This is bad. That can’t happen. We agreed.
“I’ll kiss her,” Ethan offers until the guys shoot daggers at him. “Never mind. Terrible idea.”
Pointing my finger at Ethan, I nod my head slowly to agree, but I’m paused when Liam leans in. “No backing out now, Van.”
What?
The doggedness on Liam’s face is too competitive for my comfort. He looks at me, then back to Grey. No. I don’t like this. Shit, I’ve stepped in it, and I need to get us out. But before I can open my mouth to put a halt to this disaster, Liam pushes us over the edge.
“How do we decide who gets the kiss?”
I stare at Liam, shocked, but he shrugs, dropping his eyes to my lips before turning back to Kai. Holy shit, when did he get so determined? Kai clunks forward in his seat, leaning sideways as he reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a quarter.
“You flip for it.”
Grey
FUCKING TAILS.
I push off the ground, jumping up and down in place and shake out my hands. The chill from the night air is making it impossible to warm my body, but maybe it’s more that I’m heating up with anger instead of adrenaline. I have to get my head in this race. Losing isn’t an option. For that matter, neither is winning.
My head rocks side to side as I roll my shoulders, trying to relax, but I’m the furthest from calm. So very fucking far from calm. Goddammit. I can’t believe this shit. I’m st
uck in the worst lose-lose position of all time. Heads, she kisses me, tails, she kisses Liam. Fucking tails. I have to give it to him; I never gave him this kind of credit. He might be more formidable than I anticipated. But I never thought it would be him who started us in this direction as competitors—that’s a me move. It was calculated. I respect it. Doesn’t mean I’ll ever let him win though.
My eyes find her instantly as I look out among the pockets of light shining on the growing crowd that’s mostly drowned out by the nightfall. She’s wearing a Hillcrest sweatshirt and jeans, but somehow, she’s elevated above everyone around her wearing the same. It’s like what Caroline was joking about earlier, except what takes Caroline a ball gown to achieve is effortless for Donovan.
Thinking of Caroline reminds me of exactly why Donovan put this catastrophe in motion. It’s because I pissed her off with my ultimatum, a challenge for her answer. This is payback. She knows I’d hate everything about this, so she fucking agreed to needle me, downgrade my arrogance. And it’s fucking working. She was so cunning trying to choose Kai and Paul because Liam’s had her lips, and she knows that kissing someone outside of us would make me crazy.
If I thought she’d call this shit off, I’d happily apologize, admit what a prick I was being. Explain how much I hate my father, how I’d rather gargle glass than say a kind fucking word about the bastard. I’d let her wag her finger at me until I arrested it between my teeth and I sucked, then I would—
“Hey, man. You ready?”
Liam’s voice pulls me from my thoughts so quickly that it feels jarring, and I don’t answer, wondering how long he’s been talking without me listening.
“Grey.”
“What,” I bark, my head snapping in his direction.
“The fuck, man? What is going on with you?”
Her. She’s what’s fucking going on, and I’m losing my damn mind thinking that one of you two jokers is going to kiss the lips I’ve been fantasizing over since I laid eyes on them. Lips that belong to me because neither of them know what to truly do with them.
“Nothing,” I answer dismissively, grabbing my sweatshirt from the wooden bench attached to our dock. I slip it over my head, feeling a chill from the wind sweeping up over the river. “I’m just pissed that Red Oak chose Kai. The winds aren’t in our favor, and I know we expected this, but the burden will fall on us. The two of us literally have to beat their seven.”
Liam stretches an arm across his chest as he speaks.
“We can. And we will. Everyone is here for this, man. We’re all on the same page. Ethan’s been rallying the troops. We got this.”
I take a deep breath and nod. He’s right. Red Oak isn’t us on their best day, and they won’t beat us on our worst. But his excitement to kick ass isn’t just to taste victory. It’s for Cherry.
“It’s time,” Liam says, looking out at the river, calling my gaze to follow.
As if on cue, lantern after lantern begin to glow. One by one, flickering honey gold and oranges into the darkness on both sides of the riverbank, they give us a map in the pitch black. We don’t say any more, walking in silence the twelve or so feet to the boat where Kai is standing. He’s giving handshakes to each member as they put themselves into position, showing his support as they load up.
The three of us stand together, taking in the moment. This year will be full of a lot of lasts for us, and this is one of them. We’ve gone from boys to men together, and we’ll go from the classroom to boardrooms too, but rowing will be how we started—the thing that brought us together, the last thing we do as a team, invested in a common interest. The day we leave Hillcrest will be the day that our interests become centered around our last names.
The “me” before the “we.”
“Kick their ass. Nobody beats us.” Kai nods before stepping away to hold up a white flag, signifying we’re preparing to shove from the dock.
Ethan walks up and slaps my shoulder as he passes to get into his position at the bow, and Liam turns to follow, but I grip his arm, stopping him.
“What’s up?”
“No tongue.”
Liam straightens up, staring at me eye to eye. Neither of us moves or even fucking blinks. He crosses his arms over his chest, and I know he isn’t planning on backing down. He takes a deep breath in, before stating what we’ve been dancing around. “After this, it’s fair game. Every man for himself. She chooses, and we deal with it. Like men.”
“Deal.”
He nods, relaxing more. “Okay, no tongue, but I can’t promise the same from Paul.”
Motherfuckering Paul.
“I’ll beat his fucking face in before he puts his mouth on her.”
“I’ll help.”
A grin takes hold of my face. The irony is thick—two scoundrels making a gentleman’s agreement. The only thing I’m sure of is that when it comes to Donovan, he can’t trust me, and I won’t trust him.
“Come on. Let’s get this win over with.”
I’m in my own world, zoned in, so much so that I hear nothing until the roar of the finish-line air horn. It infiltrates my senses and snatches me from my headspace. The volume feels like it’s slowly turned up. The frenzy of cheers from the crowd lining the riverbank’s edges fills my ears, and begins vibrating inside my chest.
All of the present comes into focus as my breath expands so hard through my chest, it feels as if I can’t catch it. I collapse back, looking up at the night sky littered with stars, heaving in mouthfuls of air, unable to move my spent arms.
Say we won. Someone say we won. I’m too exhausted to open my mouth and ask aloud when Liam’s face comes into view as he sits up and points behind us, not looking. I lift my head, leaning onto the side of the wooden tank to get a better vantage point. My free hand plops down into the water, dragging along, creating a tiny wake behind it.
What I see is better than any wish I could’ve had. Red Oak is crossing the negotiated finish line. Minutes after us. We didn’t just win. We fucking decimated them.
“Fuck, Grey. I almost couldn’t keep up with your pace. Actually, I’m not sure I did. You were a monster. Whatever you were concentrating on worked.”
I nod weakly, knowing precisely what I was thinking of the whole time—the lesser of two evils. My body stays flat and wrung out as I lie back again, letting the others row us back in. As we approach, more cheers erupt, and the dock bangs indelicately against the wood as we pull to a stop at the dock and tie ourselves off.
The boat dips as each guy begins to exit, and I hear the pounding of footsteps as people rush the sides, cheering and clapping, yelling out “Hillcrest,” but I don’t move, choosing instead to lie there with my eyes closed and give a weak wave. Liam pats my shoulder. “You all right?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute.”
Ethan’s voice joins Liam’s above me.
“I have to say this: I think you carried us all on your fucking back right across that finish line. Grey, you were in another league, man. It was pretty fucking phenomenal.”
The boat dips, and I know Ethan’s left, but I’m not sure Liam has too.
“Liam?”
“Yeah?”
His voice comes from the dock, something that’s confirmed when I open my eyes and look at him.
“No tongue.”
All I get is an amused nod before he turns around. The world quiets down, as everyone follows Liam toward the bonfire that’s burning bright. I lie there hoping that by the time my body works again, that fucking kiss will be over. The more my body cools, the sorer I begin to feel. I have to get up and out of this wooden box. My eyes blink open when all the air leaves me as something surprising and soft lands across my waist, straddling me.
“What the fuck?”
“Shhhhh.” Soft hands land over my eyes as mine find the rough fabric of jeans over her hips.
Donovan.
She’s keeping my eyes shut. I twist my head sideways to try and escape my imprisonment, but she rocks forward, ke
eping her hold, placing her center directly in line with my dick.
Fuck, that feels incredible.
I give a buck of my hips and hear her squeal. She leans closer, whispering, “You were amazing. An Olympian, Grey. And while I’m still mad at you—if my lips are the prize, then you deserve them.”
The softest feathered kiss presses to my lips. But as quickly as Donovan landed, she’s gone. My fingers feel the sting of wanting to dig into her hips and pull her closer. And my dick feels the loss of not rocking our bodies against each other as I slip my tongue between her lips.
If my eyes weren’t open, watching her run away, I would think I just dreamed that. And if I weren’t entirely depleted, I would run after her, but all I can do is watch as she rejoins the crowd. I lift my sore arms, just barely propping myself up, and bring a finger to my lips, feeling the sticky balm on them.
Cherry. My favorite flavor.
Donovan
“DONOVAN? EARTH TO DONOVAN.”
I hear Caroline saying my name, but her words stay lost in a thick cloud of my lust. I shouldn’t have done that. Shit. But watching them, seeing them working in tandem—it’s erotic. But witnessing Grey carry everyone over that invisible line, that took me back to when I was on the boat, caught in his energy, his intensity. I felt it all.
Grey was everything.
My chin half pulls to make my head turn, my mouth falling slightly agape to answer her, but I can’t peel myself from the picture in front of me. Light creates a spotlight for Grey’s back muscles to ripple and bulge through his sweatshirt with every motion he makes as he lifts himself from the boat.
The boat where I just kissed him.
I swore I wouldn’t go there, that I wouldn’t cross this line, but it felt more like a compulsion rather than a decision. The scrunched material around the crook of his elbow puts the veins along his forearms on display as he grips the oars with a rugged force, pulling them from the boat.
“Oh kitten. You’ve got it bad.”
“Quiet,” I mutter to Caroline aloud, still caught in my fantasy.
I’m convinced he rows the way he fucks. Aggressive, arrogant, and better than anyone else. But God, his focus might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He’s undeterred from his goal. And the way his thighs strain and work on sliding his large body back and forward, back and forward, with a primal force that gains momentum the closer he gets to the end. That’s what put me over the edge.
Filthy Little Pretties Page 18