It’ll be like casting that into the universe. Breathing reality into it. And then I’ll wake up in Philly without her.
Single.
And I can’t lie again. Not like last time. It eviscerated me, and it’ll eviscerate her.
I try to deflect. “You’re still wingman-ing for me as a married man?”
He stands up. “It’s actually easier now to send women in your direction. Her name is Jennifer by the way.”
Sulli takes the largest swig of water. Her back still to me.
Awesome.
Another Jennifer. Sulli already saw the first Jenny before Yellowstone, and now there’s another waiting for me back there.
“She might call you,” Jack adds.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
I force a smile and run a hand through my hair. “Thanks,” I say into a nod, about to add a but.
Sulli just thuds to her ass on the ground. My whole body clenches in pain. Like I emotionally kicked her.
Shit.
Just shit.
Banks crouches down to Sulli, and quickly, I say the rest to Jack, “But I’m not interested. Can you tell her that for me?”
“Yeah, no problem.” His attention swerves as Jesse approaches.
“Kuya, don’t lift that,” Jesse says, jogging faster. “Let me help.”
I slip away and walk around Sulli. Facing her, just as Banks stands up.
She inhales a strong breath. “Two Jennifers?”
I hold out a hand. “One Sullivan.”
Her lips rise, and she clasps my hand. I help Sulli to her feet.
Unfortunately for me—Jane, Maximoff, and Winona crowd around Sulli. Pushing me and Banks further back from her.
Once we start heading to the RV campsite, I lead out front, and Banks jogs up to my side. I can feel the stress emit off him like toxic smoke.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, readjusting my radio. The trail back to camp hasn’t been cleared in a while, and I’m careful not to trip on rotted logs. “Is it Sul?” I glance back, but she’s still chatting with her family.
He shakes his head, but mention of Sulli causes his eyes to find her too. “Caterer just called and said he’s fresh out of oysters, and I’m now fresh out of fucks.” He unzips his outer jacket like he’s heating up. “I’m thinking about buying a tombstone to bring to the bachelor party. Seeing as how I’ve died about a billion times trying to plan it.”
Jack overhears. “Why are we even having oysters at this thing?”
Banks says, “Because I’m a dumbass and asked Charlie fucking Cobalt what he and his brothers would like to eat.”
“It sounds like he’s messing with you,” Jack says. “He’ll eat anything you give him.”
I’d ask how he knows, but he’s married to Charlie’s bodyguard. And he’s doing a personal travel videography for Charlie, which has given Oscar and Jack more time to be together. Plus, the newlyweds have been filming Suddenly Famous, a miniseries that I’m surprised Oscar agreed to do. More media attention makes the job harder and being Charlie’s bodyguard is already near-impossible.
Banks makes a wounded noise. “I’m getting punked by a twenty-one-year-old.”
Sulli slides between Banks and me. “Charlie is twenty-two.”
“Same difference,” Banks says.
His words fall into quiet, and our eyes drift to each other. None of us touch or flirt. A longing exists. A desire to just…be. I didn’t realize how free I felt with Sulli and Banks until it was taken away.
Now I feel caged.
I brush a tense hand through my hair. I’m just waiting until we head into our own RV and break apart from everyone else. So we can be ourselves again.
37
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
After a campfire and s’mores with my family and our bodyguards, everyone splits up and heads to their respective outdoorsy lodgings.
“Sweet dreams, squirt,” I tell Winona while she slips into her sleeping bag.
“I love you s’more every day, sis,” she says in a yawn.
“I love you s’more every minute.” I smile and reach into her tent. “Avo-cuddle.” I wrap my arms around my sister. Winona squeezes back even tighter.
When I exit, I zip up the flaps. Outside the entrance, Greer unfurls a foam mat and thermal sleeping bag on the dirt. So far, Greer seems to have played nice with Security Force Omega. He even joined us at the campfire and made a marshmallow-less s’more.
Banks thinks Greer isn’t starting shit because he’s the only Epsilon bodyguard here. Outnumbered. But Akara said it’s because they all have a common enemy right now.
Team Apex.
After those fucking creeps heckled me while I was climbing today, every bodyguard is on high alert. I hope Team Asshole just sticks to fucking with me. If they go after Winona…
I bristle.
And grimace.
I don’t want to even think about it. Greer is planning to crash under the stars in the October cold. I’m guessing it’s the best vantage to protect my sister, and I feel better knowing he has her back.
Greer nods to me. “Night, Sulli.”
“Night,” I say as I pass, and Banks follows at my side. Anticipation grows on our trek to our trailer, nestled in the woods next to my forest-green Jeep. It’s felt like fucking eons since we’ve had any sort of privacy from my family and his friends.
“After you, mermaid.” Banks holds open the door for me.
My lungs are light as air as I breathe in. “Thanks.” I can’t stop fucking smiling, but as I start to draw curtains closed over the half-windows, I spot Akara alone at the dying campfire. A phone is pressed to his ear.
I know it’s a business call.
“He’s been on the phone for a lot longer than usual.” I glance in concern to Banks.
Coming up beside me, Banks peers out the window and mutters, “Don’t envy his job one bit.” He looks to me. “He’s been coordinating temp guards for the bachelor-bachelorette parties. All of us are going off-duty that night, so we need extra hands, and Akara is waist-deep in logistics.”
“You’re not a logistics kind of guy?” I ask, drawing the curtains shut, but I fucking swear Akara glances to the trailer just as I do.
“No, intricacies like that are mind-numbing to me.” Banks brushes past my frame to reach a panel above the dinette. My heart palpitates as his chest skims along my boobs. While he pushes a few buttons, he continues, “I don’t know how Thatcher and Akara do it half the time.” Warmer air blows through the A/C above the queen-bed in the back. He cocks his head to me. “I’m a follow-through with Akara’s logistics kind of guy.”
I nod a lot, smiling so fucking much. “Yeah, I can tell.”
His mouth curves up in a crooked, sexy smile the longer we stare at each other with a quiet understanding. That we really like each other’s company.
That we both want to be together rather than all alone.
Banks glances at the locked door, then at me as he edges closer. Not much space in the tiny trailer to move, we’re already close enough that I feel heat radiate off his six-seven build. He curls a strand of hair behind his ear that tries to get in his eyes. Eyes that haven’t abandoned me. Eyes that speak Encyclopedias-worth of words and attraction.
He’s such a beefcake.
My beefcake.
Those overwhelming feelings swell up in me—how much I really, really want Banks to be mine. It’s easier to come to these conclusions when I’m alone with each of them. Harder, when we’re all together.
With Banks this close, more warmth bathes me. Maybe he shouldn’t have turned up the trailer’s heat. It reminds me of water.
Being so focused on climbing has just put swimming on the backburner, but it’s something that I’ll always enjoy, always love.
Out loud, I realize, “It’s been a while since I’ve been swimming.”
He holds my gaze. “You’re the kind of mermaid who’ll die if you don’t get wet?”
That sexual innuendo was so good that I smile bigger. “I’m totally a need-to-get-soaking-wet kind of mermaid. Preferably by large bodies of water.”
He bounces his head in a nod. “I’ve seen a large body around here somewhere.”
We’re both grinning, our eyes on each other’s lips, but I’m surprised when Banks nods to the door. “You want to go before it gets too cold? That hot spring we all found along the river hasn’t moved.”
He’s asking me out.
I inhale, and air feels so paper-thin like I’m breathing in helium. High on this moment. “Yeah, I’d fucking love that.” And then I look to the curtains I shut. Akara. Guilt creeps in, and I’m wincing.
Banks notices my switch in mood. “We can invite him along.”
I feel torn. Conflicted. And I shake my head. “That’s not fair to you.”
He shrugs, hands spread open. “I’d like more time alone with you, but I know doing it will hurt my best friend, and while we’re out there, you’d be thinkin’ about how you’re hurting him too, probably even more than me. I’ve lived with a lot of pain in my life, and I’d honestly just rather do the least painful thing.”
“Me too,” I say in a quiet breath.
So we agree to wait for Akara. After packing towels in a backpack, we find ourselves on the ground. Not even on the mattress. Side by side, we lean against the queen-bed, our asses on the floor, like it’s more comfortable than blankets.
Banks seems like someone who adapts well in any odd situation, any odd place. From a dingy motel to primitive camping to a tiny RV, he hasn’t complained really or asked to turn back.
It’s attractive, how much he’s up for anything.
“When I was a kid,” I tell him, “I used to watch this movie over and over on rainy days.” Our eyes meet. “Little Giants.”
His lip lifts. “I’ve seen that one.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, surprisingly.” He slides his arm across my shoulders, and everything about the maneuver lights up my body. His touch is chock-fucking-full of I’m so into you and let’s never let this end. He asks, “That’s the kid’s movie about football?” Off my nod, he explains, “I played football growing up, so I watched it a bunch.”
I draw more into him. “So you know Becky the Icebox? She’s the daughter of the coach and the only girl on the football team.” Off his nod, I tell him, “I related to her in a lot of ways when I was young—she wanted to compete with the boys, but she also had this stupid crush on Junior, who just saw her as the Icebox: a friend, plus a great football player.”
Banks listens.
“And I’d yell at the fucking TV, Look at her, Junior! And as much as I loved the movie, I hated that ending.”
“Why?” His brows pull together. “I thought Junior finally comes around and gets with Becky.”
“But that’s after she decides to be a cheerleader.” I tuck my legs closer to my chest. “I get the whole message. She wanted to be a princess and a football player. Becky and the Icebox, and girls can be both things, but I guess I only identified as the Icebox. And it made me feel like one day I’d need to become the cheerleader in order to get the guy in the end.” I add, “Maybe that’s partly why romance was never on my radar growing up. I didn’t want to be hurt knowing that me, as I am, isn’t fucking attractive enough to the guys I liked.”
Banks looks deeper into me. “For what it’s worth, I never liked Junior.”
I break into a shocked smile. “No way, didn’t every guy want to be Junior?”
“I thought he was an idiot.” Banks smiles more, seeing mine. “Boys are stupid at that age. And then most turn into bigger stunads.” Stunad basically means an idiot. I remember that Italian-American word since he uses it a lot. “But I’ll fuckin’ admit, I did some Junior-like things as a kid too.”
“Like what?”
“I practiced how to kiss using my hand.”
I touch my chest with a laugh. “Fuck, so did I.” We’re both grinning again. “Although, it probably didn’t help me much. I feel like it’s nothing like the real thing.” I clutch his bicep, more seriously. “Be honest, am I a shitty kisser? Because I’ve only kissed…” I trail off at the unspoken, awkward thing.
I’ve only kissed three guys, and one of them happens to be dating me too.
Banks tenses, under-fucking-standably. With an exhale, he pushes through that awkward bit, and I love him for it.
My heart palpitates again.
“You’re not a shit kisser. I think if two people are feeling each other, it’s harder for the kiss to be bad.” His confidence edges along that crooked, sexy smile. “I’ve had enough bad kisses to know that kissing you is like a touchdown during a Super Bowl.”
I breathe in. “That’s a good line.” I eye his lips, my pulse drumming.
“First time I’ve used it.” He nods to me. “And it’s true.”
My whole body is vibrating in desire, in want. Turned on like a million-watts, and I ache for his rough grip, wanting him to explode forward.
Just as he moves in, the door unlocks.
Akara is frozen, keys in his hand. Like he walked in on Banks taking my virginity. That did not happen, but it’d be a royal fucking lie to say I haven’t thought about him inside me.
But I’ve also thought about Akara inside me too.
My heard is whirling, and I’m still turned on. Quickly, Banks and I scramble up to our feet together. “We’re going to the hot springs, Kits.” I toss the backpack at him.
It thuds at his chest and falls.
Fuck.
38
AKARA KITSUWON
Okay.
Okay.
Breathe.
I’ve seen them flirt before. Shit, I’ve seen Banks eat her out already. Jealousy claws at my heels, but I kick it away fast.
I’m hanging onto my relationship with Sulli. Confident in my feelings for her and her feelings for me and what we share. Regardless of what she has with Banks.
I clear a pit in my throat. “I just ran into Jane.” I pocket my keys. “She asked me if I wanted to crash in Charlie’s RV tonight. So you two could have privacy.”
Sulli rests a hand over her face, hiding from the train wreck I just experienced. “Oh my fucking God,” she mumbles. “Jane.” She drops her hand with a sigh. “Now I feel badly about complaining about the bride-to-be—who is so fucking rad that she’d try to orchestrate a way to get me alone time with the guy she knows I like.”
Banks can’t hold in a smile.
“Now how is this fair?” I ask him. “You don’t see Charlie trying to whisk you to his RV so I can have alone time with her.”
“No,” Banks says, “he’s just the one who’ll probably tweet to the world, Akara and Sulli are in a relationship.”
He has a point.
Still, I’m envious that Jane is playing wing-woman to Banks and Sulli. While I’m scrounging in the depths of every hell trying to find time with Sul. At this point, if a demon said they could give me an extra hour with her, I’d be willing to pay any price.
But I also hate knowing I might’ve taken something from Sulli and Banks. Why am I not jumping for fucking joy that I cut their little floor-flirting thing short? What’s wrong with me? I should be so happy that I interrupted them when I have deep feelings for her.
You care about them, Nine.
Yeah.
And I also just want to be here. I’ve wanted to be here with her all day, and I’ll even take Banks here with us. “So hot springs?”
Sulli comes closer. “Wait, what’d you tell Jane?”
“That I love eating string beans.”
Sulli slugs my side. “Kits.”
More deeply, I say, “I told her that I need to protect Sulli, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Sulli inhales a lungful. I know I might need to reassure her more than Banks will have to, since I constantly have to step out, but I could live forever just coming back and reminding her, telling her, showing her how muc
h I care.
How much I desire her.
Need her.
Sulli moves a step closer to collect the backpack at my feet. The trailer is so small that her body wedges between ours. Shit.
Her skin feels hot.
I’m hot.
Her eyes roam me and him.
My gaze journeys over her six-foot athletic build. Blood pumping down to my cock. My muscles flex, and I glance over at Banks.
He’s giving her the longest once-over, then his gaze lifts to mine. We’re wondering the same thing: are we going to do this again?
Why wouldn’t we?
The moment decrees go for it. Out here, the three of us are leading with zero inhibition. No constraints.
I can only find one reason to stop: someone will be left with these memories to mourn. Me or him, but right now, I push that back.
It’s just the three of us. There is no tomorrow. Just today.
Sulli grabs the backpack but while she rises, her tits press up against my chest. Ass against Banks, and I rake a hand through my hair and lick my lips.
She drops the backpack.
My chest rising and falling heavily against her, I tell her strongly, “Go lie back on the bed, string bean.”
She mutters, “Holy fuck, that was hot.”
I smile, trying not to laugh. “Sulli, go.”
Dazedly, she drifts back until her legs hit the queen bed. She sinks down, and I look to Banks while we both pull our shirts off our heads. “We’re not taking her virginity,” I tell him more commandingly.
Banks slips me a smile. “So now you’re ordering me in the bedroom too?”
I flip him off, my lips rising. We focus entirely on Sulli. She has on loose-fitting pants, and an old Aquatic Club shirt. While we near her, I imagine Sulli stripped bare, her back arched and lips parted—like she’d been in the tent.
“Hold up.” She breathes shallowly, and we both stop a literal foot away. So close that I could reach down and tear her pants off.
Banks rubs a hand across his jaw.
I try to read her expression. All I see is arousal, but to be positive, I tell her, “We don’t have to do anything, Sulli—”
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