Eye Candy

by Tijan

Clapping, cheering, and hollering, the crowd goes nuts around us as I slide the ring on her finger, letting the box fall to the floor. Standing, I pull Riley into my arms and lift her up, kissing her while my hands roam all that black leather.

  “Jesus Christ. Please tell me this isn’t a rental,” I say against her smiling lips.

  She giggles and kisses me. “It’s all mine. Bought and paid for.”

  “Sweetest words I’ve ever heard, second to that yes you just gave me,” I say.

  Riley leans back and cups my face, staring into my eyes. “I love you.”

  “I love you, darlin’.”

  We share another slow, soft kiss before our friends come over to give well wishes, practically trampling us to do just that.

  Riley shows off her ring to the girls, the group of them screaming, hugging, and crying. Arms around each other in their little squad—the one Riley couldn’t wait to be a part of.

  I can’t stop looking at her. She’s so fucking happy.

  The guys congratulate me with slaps on the back and handshakes. Reed tells me he captured it all on his phone, even my tears.

  Feeling too good to fucking care, I let that one slide and thank him for doing that for us.

  I’m sure Riley will want to watch the video every chance she gets. I tell him to send it to us both, then feeling a tap on my leg, I look down, finally pulling my eyes off Riley and giving Nolan the attention he’s seeking.

  I got my entire life to look at her. That’s the only reason I do it.

  “What’s up, man?” I ask, smiling at his hair, wet and sticking up all wild. When he waves me closer, I bend down, grinning when I see what he’s holding in his hand.

  “Is it okay if I keep this?” he asks.

  “Yeah, sure. What do I need it for?”

  “Yes!” Nolan pumps his fist into the air, then peers around me, holding up the ring box. “Mommy, look what CJ said I can keep! Now I just need a ring and I’m set!” He rushes around me to show Mia, who walks over with the rest of the girls, smiling and wiping tears from her eyes.

  “That’s great, baby,” she says, cupping his cheek before giving me a look of appreciation.

  Nolan rushes off toward the apple-bobbing set-up at the bar, squeezing in between people to get through.

  Ben throws his arm around Mia’s shoulders and kisses the top of her head. He’s holding Chase now, who’s still passed out. I’m surprised the commotion didn’t wake him.

  “This place just got even more awesome,” Tessa says, stopping beside Luke. “You did good, Tully.”

  I lock eyes with Riley when she finally pulls her attention off her ring. “Yeah, I did.”

  She smiles, rushing at me, and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss.

  “So, when’s the wedding going to be?” Beth asks, leaning back against Reed when he steps behind her and holds her swollen stomach.

  I look down at Riley, brow raised. “Your call, darlin’.”

  She pulls her lips between her teeth, thinking for a second before informing the group, “Maybe this summer after I graduate? I don’t want to wait too long. And I’d really love to do it at the beach.” Riley peers up at me. “Would that be okay?”

  “You wanna do it at Sparrow’s Island?” I ask.

  “Hey, that’s our beach,” Reed says.

  I glare at him. “You don’t own the beach.”

  “I didn’t say we own it.” He rests his chin on Beth’s shoulder, smirking now. “We just . . . made a lot of memories there.”

  Beth turns bright red.

  “So did we,” I argue, watching Reed stiffen.

  Fuck that.

  I’m sure Reed and Beth did make a lot of memories at Sparrow’s Island, considering that’s where they spent their wedding/honeymoon, but that’s where Riley and I began. We met for the first time officially that weekend. We fucked for the first time there too, and if that’s where she wants to get married, Reed can take his memories and fuck right off with them. I’m getting that beach.

  Riley tenses in my arms while Ben and Luke crack up laughing, watching Reed grow increasingly uncomfortable.

  “You guys are funny,” Mia says. “I’m pretty sure we all made a lot of memories there . . .”

  All eyes widen and turn to Mia. She never says shit like that.

  She shrugs, leaning into Ben and laughing. “I’m just saying. If that’s all it takes—Ben and I own that beach too.”

  “Yeah, us too. We own a lot of that beach,” Tessa adds, biting Luke’s jaw.

  “Fine,” Reed grumbles, looking around the group. “But Beth and I own McGill’s. We’re the only ones allowed to make memories here. So no couple bathroom breaks, and stay the hell away from the storage room. We own the shit out of that after what went down in there earlier.”

  Danny stops behind Reed, glaring at the back of his head.

  Everyone tries containing their laughter as Reed stays unaware.

  “This is going to be good,” Riley whispers, leaning back against me and drawing my arms around her tighter.

  “You wanna see him get his ass beat?” I ask against her ear.

  “If it means we get Sparrow’s Island, then yes.”

  I chuckle and kiss her cheek.

  Realizing something is up, Reed slowly turns his head, spots Danny and smiles wide. “Hey! You know, I was just coming to look for you.” He releases Beth and puts his arm around Danny’s shoulders, leading him away. “Let’s talk about all those renovations you were wanting to do here, and how it’s not gonna cost you a damn thing . . .”

  Beth throws her head back and laughs, then everyone joins in.

  I guess Tennyson Construction will be footing that bill.

  “Come on. Let’s order some food,” Ben suggests, motioning toward the table they left that’s still vacant.

  I turn Riley in my arms when the group leaves us in the middle of the dance floor. “You happy?” I ask her.

  Beaming, she looks from my face to her ring, letting go of my neck to study it. “You could’ve tied a string around my finger and I would’ve been happy,” she says, gripping hold of me again and smiling up at me, her sinful body tucking closer. “It’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful, and I’m so happy, Cannon.”

  Cannon.

  Fuck. What it does to me to hear her call me by my real name.

  Growling, I let my hands travel lower, settling at the top of her ass. “Don’t be calling me that here,” I say. “Unless you wanna go find out what the fuck is so cool about the storage room.”

  Giggling and rolling up on her toes, she offers me her mouth, and I take it in a long, slow kiss, getting rock hard by the end of it.

  “Where are we going?” Riley asks, startled, when instead of leading her toward the table and our friends, I pull her in the direction of the door, shoving people out of the way when they aren’t moving fast enough on their own.

  “My truck. Your brother didn’t say shit about making memories in the parking lot.”

  NOLAN

  Two days later

  I punch my finger against the screen of Mommy’s phone, making sure I’m hitting the right numbers this time. I studied them good off the paper.

  “Oops,” I say when I hit one too many. I lift the phone to my ear, breathing faster and faster like I do when I’m running when I hear it start to ring.

  My eyes open all the way up.

  “Holy crap. This is it,” I whisper.

  I’m actually calling her.

  “Hello?”

  A man answers the phone. He sounds probably as old as my dad, so I know exactly who it is. I got this.

  “Hi, Ryan’s dad. This is Nolan.” I sit on the edge of my bed, listening.

  I don’t hear anything except his breathing. He’s breathing a lot. Then I think he says something like “Handle this,” but I don’t know what that means.

  I pick at the edge of my shoe.

  “Nolan? Is that you, sweetie?”

  This lad
y sounds just like my mom. I bet they’re the same age and everything. I remember her from the wedding. She was really nice to me.

  “Hi! Can I talk to Ryan, please?”

  Daddy told me to make sure I asked nicely. He said it’s good to get in with the parents.

  I don’t know what that means, but I’m making sure I do it.

  A soft laugh tickles my ear. “Sure. Hold on one second, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I keep picking at the edge of my shoe.

  “Baby, did you give Nolan our number?” Ryan’s mommy whispers, but I can hear her real good. Then somebody’s breathing again, but faster this time, just like I’m doing.

  “Hi, Nolan.”

  I sit up straight and forget all about my shoe.

  “Hi!” My stomach does this weird flip-flop, like when we ride the roller coasters at Six Flags. “Um, I got your number off the picture you sent me. That’s like, the coolest thing I’ve ever gotten in the mail so far. Even better than when I get money from my Nana for my birthday.”

  She giggles in my ear. “Did you like the picture? I got yours today too. I put it on my wall above my bed.”

  Holy crap. I’m in her room.

  “I loved it. It’s just like the dragon tattoo I’m gonna get one day.” My head wrinkles. “Did I tell you about that?”

  I can’t remember. I think I did.

  I think I told her a bunch of times.

  “Yep,” she says.

  “Good. Just making sure.” I stand from the bed and walk around my room. “So, I needed to ask you something, Ryan. It’s a really big deal for me.”

  “What is it?”

  “I know we’re just kids, and my dad says I don’t need to worry about this yet, but I can’t help it. I wanna marry you. And I gotta make sure you wanna marry me. If I don’t know for sure, I’m gonna lose it.”

  I stop walking so I can listen really good, holding my breath as I look at a spot on the carpet.

  I don’t move a muscle.

  “Okay,” she says.

  I lift my head. “Really? You’ll do it? You want to?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s great!” I run over to my bed and climb on. “That’s great. Wow. Okay. I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”

  She laughs again.

  I really really like the way she does that.

  “I gotta go. My daddy needs the phone,” she says.

  “That’s cool. I can call you anytime I want now. That was such a good idea to send me your number, Ryan. Probably the best idea anyone has ever had.”

  “And I have your number now too. I can see it on the phone.”

  “So you can call me . . .”

  “Yep.”

  “Will you?”

  “Yep.”

  I smile. “That’s great. I hope you do. Okay, so my dad always tells my mom he loves her before they hang up the phone. It’s just . . . I don’t know. It’s just something people say.”

  I bend my knee up, getting ready to pick at my shoe when she doesn’t say anything, but I don’t start picking at it, because she speaks just when I’m about to do it.

  “My mommy does that too. She says it all the time. She won’t get off the phone until she says it.”

  “Sometimes my mom says it first.”

  “My dad says it first a lot.”

  I chew on my lip. “Mm. Okay.”

  “Okay.” She giggles again.

  I smile really big. “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  “Dylan.”

  That is definitely her dad talking to her mom. I know his voice by now.

  “Bye, Nolan.”

  “Okay, see ya!”

  I hang up the phone and spring from my bed, running out of my room with my arms raised in the air.

  “She said yes!”

  Don’t miss these other titles from NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author J. DANIELS

  Alabama Summer

  Where I Belong

  All I Want

  When I Fall

  Where We Belong

  What I Need

  Dirty Deeds

  Four Letter Word

  Hit the Spot

  Sweet Addiction

  Sweet Addiction

  Sweet Possession

  Sweet Obsession

  Visit her at www.authorjdaniels.com

  About the Author

  J. Daniels is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sweet Addiction series, the Alabama Summer series, and the Dirty Deeds series. J. grew up in Baltimore and resides in Maryland with her family.

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  GETTING DOWN

  Helena Hunting

  Chapter 1: Party Time

  Ruby

  I try to sneak a peek at my reflection in the mirror during the brief pauses between strokes of eyeliner, but I’m sitting on the vanity so it’s impossible to get a good look. “How much longer before I can see?”

  Amalie Whitfield, my best friend for over a decade—we survived high school and then college in New York together—huffs an annoyed sigh and gives me the stink-eye. It’s a hilarious expression on her makeup-caked face. She throws down the lip brush and pulls a tissue from the box. It’s the third time she’s had to do this. “Can you please stay still? I’m almost finished and I don’t want to have to start over.”

  I grip the edge of the counter and press my lips together. “Staying still.”

  She dabs at the spot I messed up, and tilts her head to the side. “Pout for me.”

  I make pouty lips at her and follow it up with a wet kissy sound. Amie—which is what I like to call her since Amalie sounds a bit stuffy—rolls her eyes and goes back to painting my lips, while mirroring my expression. For the past ninety minutes she’s been working on our makeup—like she used to do in college when we went out clubbing. She’s amazing with makeup. It’s a gift.

  “We should’ve videoed this for your YouTube channel,” I say through mostly still pursed lips. Back in college Amie started posting short tutorials as part of a research project for one of her marketing classes. What began as a way to bump up her grade turned into a hobby she actually managed to make money from. She even managed to raise something like seventy thousand for one series she did for cancer patients. My best friend is pretty incredible.

  “I haven’t done that in a long time. I doubt anyone watches those videos anymore. But maybe when I’m not quite so rusty I could do it again. It would be fun to put something up, just to see if anyone would still watch it.”

  Last time I checked, Amie had close to a million views on the video she uploaded six months ago. Right before she started dating her fiancé, Armstrong. She’s a bit of a YouTube sensation, even if she pretends she isn’t. Sometimes I miss this version of my best friend, the carefree fun one who puts on costumes in the middle of the day and does my makeup. She’s so serious most of the time now.

  I’m used to sitting while getting my makeup done, but this is a lot more intricate than what I wear for a performance. Today I brought home a pile of old costumes. I just happened to be around when my producer opened a trunk of donated costumes, none of which were helpful for performances on the stage, but all of which were perfect for Halloween. Halloween may be weeks away, but the second I walked in the door I started trying on costumes. And the moment Amie arrived, I made her do the same.

  I love Halloween. It’s my favorite holiday of the year, even though technically it’s not a real holiday since no one gets the day off. I also love horror movies. I love being scared more than ever now that I have a super-hot boyfriend to watch those movies with. It didn’t take long for him to learn to share that love. Especially when it means I’m cuddled up in his lap, using his neck as a place to hide my face when the movies get too scary. As a side note, the movies are never really that scary, I just like the way he smells. And more than half the time we never make it to the credits, since I use the scary part as an excuse to g
et all up on him. That often leads to kissing, and nakedness inevitably follows.

  But back to Halloween. Beyond scary movies and morphing the condo into a haunted house—which I’ve already done thanks to several shopping expeditions to local Halloween specialty stores and a few consignment shops, all before October first—I love dressing up. Like love, love, love it. But then, I’m an actress, so playing pretend is kind of my thing. Even the bathroom Amie and I are currently occupying has been decorated. I’ve turned it into a haunted bathroom, with bats hanging from the ceiling and fun accessories containing creepy-crawly things lining the vanity. I’ve actually scared the crap out of myself a couple of times when I’ve had to pee in the middle of the night.

  My phone buzzes on the vanity. I glance down and see that it’s Bancroft, my boyfriend. It’s his vanity I’m currently sitting on. Well, ours is probably more accurate. We’ve been dating since the spring and I moved into his condo two weeks ago. Our beginning was a bit unconventional. Not too long ago I was jobless and nearly homeless.

  So when he presented an opportunity to be his pet sitter while he was out of town on business, he also offered me the spare room in his luxury, penthouse condo. Of course I took it. Five weeks of pet sitting turned into five weeks of video chat flirting that turned into seriously hot sex when he got back, which turned into an actual relationship.

  I reach for my phone, but Amie slaps my hand. “Don’t move.”

  “Ow.”

  “I said don’t move. That includes your lips.”

  “God you’re bossy.” It’s so hard not to smile at her angry expression. Especially with the way she’s dressed up. Amie’s a gorgeous, ultra-fit, sandy-blond-haired, blue-eyed goddess. She has a sweet face, but under that pretty exterior is a whole lot of bite. Bite that I haven’t seen much of since Armstrong came onto the scene.

  She pinches my arm and I turn into a mannequin.

  Less than a minute later I hear the door open and the sound of my name being called from down the hall. I’m not allowed to speak, so Amie answers for me, shouting, “We’re in your bathroom.”

  The heavy tread of shoes—they’re not Bancroft’s, he always takes his off when he walks in the door—echoes down the hallway. Bancroft is not alone. He’s with Amie’s fiancé, who happens to be his cousin. I find him to be a pretentious asshole, but Amie seems to love him, so I keep those thoughts to myself most of the time. Unless I’m alone with Bancroft. Then we share our disdain for him openly.