The main floor is disappointing, so I turn back toward the bar. That’s when my gaze meets a familiar pair of green eyes, and I catch them staring at me with a certain twinkle, and I know what that means.
I pause, staring at Geo, who quickly diverts his attention once I’ve caught him checking me out. As he helps another bar patron, I let my eyes roam over him. Geo is attractive—very attractive—and I’m not sure why I haven’t noticed it before. He’s slender with an athletic figure and tan biceps that look smooth to the touch. I bet he surfs or runs, both visions of him working up a sweat outside give my groin a slight stirring. Nothing major, but it’s potential.
Suddenly, I’m drinking my beer faster, hoping it means he’ll come over to refill it. Finally, he does, and I swear he’s smiling at me differently now.
“Want another one?” he asks, taking the empty bottle from in front of me.
I lean forward, placing my forearms on the bar as I smile at him. With a wink, I reply, “Yes, please.” I feel like myself again.
Geo bites his lip in response. Then he turns toward the ice chest to grab my beer. Before he returns, I feel Hunter’s attention suddenly on me. He’s wearing a scrutinizing expression as he watches me take the cold bottle from Geo and lift it to my lips while holding his gaze.
“So, how was your trip?” Geo asks, leaning against the bar.
“Long,” I reply, and I swear I notice Hunter’s jaw clench in my periphery.
“See any good clubs?”
“Nothing as good as this one, but we saw some interesting places.”
“Oh yeah?” Geo asks with a flirtatious lift of his brow. “You’ll have to share some of the stories with me sometime. I’m intrigued.”
Hunter’s drink slams against the bar with a clunk, so loud I’m surprised his glass doesn’t break. “We have a meeting. Let’s go,” he barks as he stands from his seat.
And I almost get up. I almost follow him because that’s what I’ve always done. He leads, I follow. He says jump, and I say ‘how high.’ Or rather…he says ‘fuck my wife’ and I say ‘yes, sir.’ But that’s what got me in this situation. And now my heart is a fucking mess. My head is a mess. I’m not the same person I was before this trip, and I can’t risk losing their friendship even more than we already have. So I can’t just follow Hunter anymore.
For his own good, I keep my ass on this barstool, and I force a tough swallow. “I don’t need to go to the meeting. If you have any construction questions for me, we’ll meet up after. But you go. I’m gonna stay here.”
My eyes lift up to meet his and the intensity of his expression literally hurts. It’s a punch to the gut. Because I’m drawing that line back in the sand. And I swear it looks like he has something to say, but in true Hunter fashion, he swallows it down.
“Fine,” he mutters. Then he glances ominously at Geo, before looking back at me. “Just remember our club has a two-drink limit.”
“Yep,” I reply, trying not to let those words hurt the way he wants them to.
And with that, he turns and walks away. I recognize the anger in his gait, but I don’t dwell on it. Turning back to Geo, I smile. I need to get back to myself, and there’s only one way to do it.
If my heart isn’t going to get over Hunter and Isabel, my dick will.
Rule #27: Get your story straight.
Hunter
I’m early for the meeting, and I hate being early. Not even Emerson is here yet, and he’s always the first one in the room.
I drop into a chair with a scowl on my face and stare at the wood grain of the conference table. I’m stewing like the stubborn asshole I am. I’m mad at Drake for ditching me, obviously flirting, and I’m proactively angry at him for what I’m pretty sure he’s about to do with the bartender.
What the fuck is wrong with him? He goes straight from our trip to trying to fuck someone else. How could he do that to Isabel? Why can’t he just keep his dick in his pants for one fucking second?
It seemed pretty clear to me this past week that the three of us have a bond. Did he not see it that way? No. It was just fucking to him and we mean nothing. And to think I wanted to make this relationship work among the three of us. I actually considered bringing him into my marriage long-term, but of course, he doesn’t want that. That would require not sticking his dick in the first person that walks by.
“What’s wrong with you?” Garrett, one of my co-owners, says with a furrowed brow as he enters the room. He’s not exactly the kind of friend you confide in. Garrett is great for a laugh and a good time, but if I unloaded every detail of the past two weeks on him, his head would explode from trying to take it seriously. I force my chest to take a deep breath as I glance up at him.