“Can they do that?” she asks, her hand over her chest. Oh, sweet, naive little Isabel. So pure she can’t even wrap her head around how dickheads work. I love that about her.
“Apparently.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Probably going to have to catch a flight home from Austin. I need to find a new place to live.”
Now, I could be imagining things, or just seeing what I want to see, but I swear there’s devastation in her expression.
“No! You can’t do that.”
And here I thought I was the annoying third wheel. Surely, she’d enjoy a nice road trip with her husband alone.
“I have to. I need to find an apartment and move out of my old one in the next three weeks.”
When her hand lands on my arm, squeezing my bicep in a comforting grasp, I have to will my heart not to beat its way out of my chest. Every touch with Isabel after last night feels different. I can still remember what it felt like to hold her in my arms, her legs squeezed around my waist and her ass in my hands. I dreamt I was tying her up again; this time, she was naked and I was naked and I kept winding and winding and winding rope around her until her body became our bodies and I was tying them together.
In my dream, I was inside her, no longer pretending with layers of clothes between us, but I was buried deep in the same way we were simulating last night. When I woke up this morning, I couldn’t move for over thirty minutes because the raging hard-on in my boxers taunted me with my own shame. I would never, ever, lay a hand on my best friend’s girl like that, and tugging on my cock with the memory of her still fresh in my mind doesn’t feel any better.
Now, there’s a new tension between us, and I can’t stand it.
Isabel has always been as much my friend as Hunter is. I love her…like a sister—nope. I can’t even say that in my head without it feeling weird. Because even though I would never touch her like that, it doesn’t change the fact that my body clearly wants to. So saying she’s like a sister to me is the hardest nope of nopes.
“Drake, just stay with us,” she says in a sweet, pleading tone.
“Like I said, I wish I could—"
“No. I mean…stay with us. At the house. I mean…you built the damn thing. I’m not going to let you rush into finding a new apartment. Put your stuff in storage and just take the extra room at our place until you get something more permanent. And for God’s sake, buy this time.”
I let out a huff, my shoulders sagging as I smile at her. “I can’t do that, Isabel. I’m up Hunter’s ass enough as it is.”
The bell on the front door chimes as it opens, and we both look up to see the dark curls and tan skin of the devil himself as he emerges from the shop. “What’s up?” He immediately notices our serious expressions.
“Tell Drake to stay with us.”
Hunter freezes. “Okay…Drake, stay with us,” he says, obeying his wife without question.
“His landlord is evicting him this month to turn his apartment into a parking garage,” she adds.
“Seriously?”
I nod, letting out a heavy sigh. “They want me out by the end of the month. I need to cut my trip short. I’ll fly out of Austin.”
If I wanted Isabel to look disappointed at the news of me leaving, it was nothing compared to how good it feels to see Hunter’s immediately gutted response at the news. Then, in true Hunter fashion, he takes control of the situation.
“No. You can’t leave early. I need your help. You’re looking at club infrastructures, remember? I don’t know shit about that. So you have to stay on the trip.”
“Dude, I have three weeks to move out and find a new place to live.”
“Isabel’s right. Just stay with us. You’ll have a week to move your stuff into storage after we get home. You practically live at our place as it is. So, enjoy the rest of the road trip with us and worry about your apartment when we get back.”
My jaw clenches as I realize I’ve been cornered. There is no arguing with Hunter. He’s always been like this. The leader, decision-maker, commander-in-chief of our friendship, and I’d be lying if I said it bothered me. The truth is, it’s always given me a strange sense of comfort, knowing that everything is in his hands. Even, sometimes, my life.
“Besides, all you own is a bed and a couch. You don’t even have a TV in that apartment. It’ll take us less than an hour to move it all out. So just relax.”
He bumps my shoulder as he passes by, throwing an arm around Isabel and leading her to the car.