More Than Lies (More Than #1)(28)

“Thank you.” I tell her as I start on my drink. “I needed that.”





CHAPTER SIX





SHAWN





Now who is this pretty little thing?

Leaning into the frame connecting the sliding glass door to the wall, I fold my arms across my chest and eye the sexy, strawberry blonde pixie that just walked through my brother’s front door a few seconds ago. I’ve never seen her before, but she followed Jamie in so I’m assuming they’re friends. Good, I can get her to introduce me.

I take a sip of my beer.

Mason is wrong. I don’t go after women with a certain color hair.

I take another swig, savoring the hoppy brew as I continue looking them both over.

Jamie is one of Kylie’s friends. I think they work together, or workout together, or something. I don’t know and I don’t care. I banged her this past summer. Decent fuck, nothing to dabble in more than once, but then again who is?

As I push off the doorframe, someone steps into my path blocking my easy mark for the night. “You planning on doing anything about that?” Trent points his index finger behind me.

“You’re blocking my view.” I deadpan, casting my eyes downward to meet his. Trent’s now several inches shorter than my six-foot two-inch frame. If he thinks he can still get in my face and order me around like he did when I was a kid, he has another thing coming. For the most part, I’ve always liked Trent. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s Shane’s best friend and always came first. You’d think blood would be thicker than water, but not with Shane. Trent glances behind him, taking in the scantily clad redhead who’s now smiling back at me.

So I’ve caught her attention. This’ll be easy-peasy.

“Hmph,” he blows out as he shakes his head. I peer around him and give the little hottie a once-over so she knows I’m interested. “Worry about who to stick your dick in later, and go do something about that shit out there before I have to.”

“You’re a big boy. I’m sure whatever it is you are capable of handling it. And if you can’t, then call Shane, ’cause last I checked, I’m not your bitch.” I go to walk past him, but I halt when he lays a firm hand on my shoulder. I don’t know what his problem is, but the last thing I need is this shit. “Careful, Evans.”

“It is your job to watch her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.” By the ‘her’ I know he’s talking about Tara. Trent is always quick to remind me why she lives in my house, why I’m forced to see her on a damn near daily basis, and why it’s my fault she makes dumb decisions without thinking them through. “So I suggest you handle Mason. You can get his hands off my sister, or I will. I really don’t want to hit my girlfriend’s little brother, but I will if he doesn’t stop touching Taralynn like he is right now.”

I pivot, doing a one-eighty, before he even has time to take his hand from my shoulder. If I thought his words alone caused me to see red, I was dead wrong. The scene in front of me has my body on fire. Mason is lying down, practically flat on his back, on a lounge chair in front of the pool. Tara is straddling his hips, holding what I think is a bottle of tequila. My best friend, who I’m about to lose it on, is smirking up at her while running his palm up her bare thigh. Tara is wearing that black bathing suit that molds to her body like a second skin. It’s a one-piece that barely covers her plump ass, dips too low in the back and ties around her neck, causing her already voluptuous tits to push together and sit high on her chest. My eyes zero in on his right hand that continues to skirt up her outer thigh.

I remove my cell phone from the pocket of my shorts and quickly press his name under my contacts and watch, waiting for him to answer. It doesn’t take but a few seconds before he grabs his own phone lying on the table next to him. He answers without taking his eyes off Tara. I’m going to murder him tonight.

“I’m busy.” His voice is laced with irritation and heat. He’s turned on! She has him turned on. Tara brings the bottle to her lips, tosses her head back and takes a swig. The fuck? Since when does she drink like that? Yeah, I know she loves beer and has a few shots of tequila occasionally, but still. She takes another swig before bringing the bottle back down to her side and lowering her face to Mason’s. He opens his mouth and she releases the liquid into him.

“Get. Your. God. Damn. Hands. Off her, you stupid motherfucker.” Murder red, the color of blood, is all I can see surrounding their bodies.

“Like I said, I’m busy so piss off.”

And with that the line goes dead. He drops his cell phone on the table. As his left hand goes around her ass, I start walking out of the house. His right hand goes further up, along her belly, and over her chest until he reaches her neck where he pulls her forward, down, only inches from his face. Right before their lips meet I reach the pool area, squat down on the side of his lounge chair and wrap my hand around his throat, squeezing only tight enough to get his attention. Tara looks up, giving me a strange drunken look before blushing like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t be doing.

I look down at my best friend. “Sure you want to do that?” Mason lifts his hands off Tara as if saying he surrenders. Good decision on his part.

“Remove your hand from around my neck, now,” he throws out. It’s a threat; I hear it in his tone. Mason is the fun, don’t give a shit type, but he isn’t a pussy in any way. He doesn’t take shit from anyone, not even me. He’ll go toe to toe with men bigger and stronger than him without thinking twice.