Ryan stands with a tired groan, awkwardly trying to shimmy back into his boxers and jeans, tucking his dick away.
I’m slipping my breasts back inside my bustier, adjusting them so they sit right, when something catches my eyes. “Ryan,” I murmur, heart in my throat.
“Hmm?” He snatches his shirt up off the floor, slipping it back on.
“Ryan,” I say again, panic rising.
“Are these mine or yours?” he teases, dangling my panties on his pinkie. “I think this is a case of finders keepers—”
“Ryan,” I cry.
He finally turns my way, his hand already stuffing the panties in his pocket. “What?” He takes in my expression, and then he’s reaching for me, dropping back down next to me on the love seat. “Oh—baby, what is it? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you with all my blabbing about Jake’s kitchen and—Tess, what—”
I point up to the device with the glowing red light mounted at the corner of the wall. “There’s a camera in here.”
45
I slam the door of my car and rush up the driveway in the rain, trying not to spill my coffee or slip and bust my ass. Panting as I reach the front porch, I flip back the hood of my jacket, dancing in place to shake off some of the rain.
I’ve been up since 5:00 a.m., too wired to sleep—which is crazy because, by all rights, I should be dead to the world. Alcohol and orgasms are a heady combination. Enough to knock me out cold after three rounds last night—twice at the party and once in the shower when we got home.
Apparently, they’re just not enough to keep me asleep. Not when the sky is falling, and I may lose my title as an honorary Ray.
I slipped naked out of Ryan’s bed, threw on some workout clothes, and high-tailed it over here. I need answers. And advice. And to be talked off this ledge…or maybe pushed. No one is better at talking me off ledges than Rachel.
I dig in the pocket of my raincoat, fishing out my keys, and let myself into the house. It’s the work of moments to pop in the code to disable their alarm system. Then I’m rushing up the stairs, determined to do a proper freakout session with my best friend.
The dog barks, meeting me in the hallway with alarm that quickly morphs into delight. I march right past all the closed bedroom doors, heading straight for the master bedroom.
“Rach, girl, I need to talk to you,” I cry, pushing on the half-open door.
Jake and Rachel are curled up together at one end of their double king bed. He’s on the end, facing in towards her, being the big spoon. Ilmari is stretched out across the other king. Caleb is nowhere to be found.
“Rach,” I say again. “I need you.”
Jake bolts up in the bed. “Tess?” he says, his voice scratchy.
“I need to talk to Rachel,” I say, shucking off my wet raincoat and dropping it to the floor.
Ilmari groans something in Finnish, rolling to his side.
“What time is it?” Rachel asks.
“Early,” I reply, kicking off my shoes. “Like, not even 7:00 a.m.”
Rachel grabs Jake’s arm, checking the time on his Apple watch. She whimpers, pressing her face deeper into the pillow. “Tess, no. My alarm was going off in fifteen minutes.”
“Everything okay?” Jake says at me, rubbing a tired hand over his face.
Rachel elbows him. “Don’t ask her that. Now we’ll never get her out of here.”
“Hey, it could be important,” he counters.
“No, it’s about sex,” she replies. “Frantic texts and phone calls are for work emergencies. Late-night whine and cheese sessions are for family stuff. Early morning freakouts are only ever about Tess thinking with her vagina instead of her head.”
“Rude,” I say at her, one hand on my hip. “Don’t act like you know me.”
She sighs, sitting up in the bed, propped against her pillows. She’s wearing a cute little silk nightie, blue with pink lace. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she says through a yawn, her fingers brushing Jake’s hair back from his brow. “Is this or is this not about your greedy little kitty scratching up the wrong tree last night?”
“Rakas, take her downstairs,” Ilmari mutters, his face still buried under a pillow.
“No, it’s cold down there,” I say, hurrying over to his side of the bed. Grabbing the covers, I flip them back to expose his freaking awesome back tattoo and his pearly white derrière. “Mars, scooch ov—mygod! Why are you naked?”