Love Song(104)

SONGBOY

I probably shouldn’t.



Disappointment lodges in my chest, but I understand his reluctance.

SONGBOY

It’s too risky. Your dad’s probably patrolling the hallway.



I don’t think you need the word probably in that sentence.



SONGBOY

Let’s give it a couple days? Let them get used to the idea.



Okay. Good night, songboy.



SONGBOY

Good night, freckles.



I’m about to burrow under my blanket when a knock sounds on the door. For a moment, I wonder if Wyatt changed his mind, but when the door cracks open at my hurried “Come in,” it’s Beau who appears.

He doesn’t come all the way inside, just lingers in the doorway. He’s wearing sweats, his blond hair damp from a shower. When our eyes meet, I don’t miss the glint of disapproval in his.

“Just say it,” I sigh.

“Wyatt? That’s the guy you’re seeing? You could’ve told me that the other night.”

“We were keeping it on the down-low.”

“Well, you did a shit job, because now it’s on the fucking”—he pauses—“up-low.”

“Wouldn’t it be up-high?”

He ignores that. “You don’t even understand the shitstorm you’ve unleashed. The dads are all holding a meeting about it right now.”

“Let them meet,” I say irritably. “This has nothing to do with them.”

Beau shakes his head. “You’re smarter than this, B. I love the guy to death, but we both know his track record. He’s going to break your heart.”

“Maybe. Or maybe not.” I huff out a breath, annoyed that everyone is sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong. “Either way, it’s nobody’s business but mine.”





Chapter 38


WYATT





THE DADS ARE FEUDING. WHICH would be funny if I weren’t part of the feud. Like, if this was AJ hooking up with Ivy? Or Beau hooking up with Alex? Hilarious.

Unfortunately, it’s me hooking up with Blake, and that means we’re the ones caught in the middle of this storm and the ones everyone glares at when the feud gets particularly annoying. For example, during tonight’s dinner.

“Can someone please tell Mr. Logan to pass the mashed potatoes?”

“Can someone please tell Mr. Graham that he needs to lay off all the butter because he’s starting to look flabby?”

“Can someone please tell Mr. Logan to piss off and that if he’s so inclined, I will challenge him to a push-up contest on the dock?”

“Can someone please tell—”

“No!” my mother bursts out. “No! We’re done here!”

Grace nods firmly. “Get your plates, everyone. We’re eating outside. They’re staying in here.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” Dean says, and Tucker nods in agreement. “We’ll stay and watch if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourselves,” Grace says.

Everyone else scrapes back their chairs and marches toward the french doors. AJ snickers under his breath, glancing over at me.

“Damn, Wyatt, you broke their brains.”

Logan overhears that and growls at AJ. “Shut it, Connelly. You’re already on thin ice because your father tried to steal my best friend and—you know what? Jake can have him.” He flashes a big, fake smile at my father.

It’s been three days of this.

It’s also been three days of insomnia, because apparently, if Blake isn’t wrapped around me, I can’t sleep.

And it’s been three days of blue balls, because I can’t fuck her.

Which means three days of jerking off, an activity that isn’t that much fun when I know my girl’s tight pussy is two doors down.

But I’d never risk it in the house now, not with her father scowling at me any time I enter a room. It sort of makes me want to head back to Nashville early, but the idea of saying goodbye to her…

Agony.

Fuck. I need to get ahold of myself. This isn’t who I am. I don’t panic at the thought of moving on. Blake and I will still be friends once the sex runs its course. We’ll always be friends.

You don’t want to be her fucking friend, an incredulous voice says, but I silence it before the accusation can take root in my mind.

After dinner, the Golden Boys and I drive into town to shoot pool. Tara tags along, but she passes the time sitting at a high-top table on her phone, legs crossed and miniskirt riding up her tanned thighs. We team up—Beau and me versus AJ and Gray. But it’s sort of hard to enjoy the game when my partner keeps giving me surly looks.

I tried to warn her. I told her that Beau has a thing for her, but Blake just shrugged it off. Women don’t want to see the things that make them uncomfortable.

Despite the rising tension between us, Beau and I win the first game. While Gray racks the balls for round two, AJ goes to get another pitcher of beer. The Golden Boys are twenty, so they all use fake IDs. I find that hilarious, as I’m sure most of the bartenders in Tahoe know who their fathers are and could easily google their ages and find out they’re minors. But AJ strolls back with a second pitcher, no problem.