Birthday Girl(63)

“So, she’s off limits to you, then?”

“Yes!”

“Then why were you looking at her like you loved what she was wearing and wanted to see it on your bedroom floor tonight?”

“I wasn’t looking at her like that,” I grit out through my teeth.

But he just laughs under his breath.

Asshole.

“Hey, I’m not knocking—”

“Shut up,” I say.

Damn it. It’s not right. It’s bad enough I’m looking at her like she’s an actual woman and not my son’s girl, but I’ll be damned if anyone finds out about it.

“All I’m saying is she’s exactly your type,” he tells me, evening out his voice. “Did you notice that? You always went for girls like her in high school. Before Lindsay, the Trainwreck, anyway.”

“Just shut up.”

But he doesn’t. “I’m not saying you should do anything. And that’s why I stepped in and didn’t let you bring her home.”

His tone turns serious.

“All kidding aside, Pike,” he goes on, “she is exactly your type. You shouldn’t be alone with her.”

Yeah.

I know.

I just hope he’s the only person who’s noticed.

“Thanks for the intervention,” I tell him, “but even if I were attracted to her, I’m capable of controlling myself.”

“You’re not seeing yourself from my perspective.” He looks out the front windshield, solemn. “You look at each other like…”

“Like?”

He swallows, an unusually troubled pinch to his brow. “Like the two of you have your own language.”





Jordan



I pull into the driveway, my body jostling from side to side as the headlights fall on the closed garage ahead. Pressing in the clutch, I hit the brake and park, turning off the engine.

The bar cleared out early, Shel and a couple of the other girls staying to close up, so I got out well before two tonight. Pike only left an hour ago, but he’s undoubtedly in bed by now. He’s not a night owl.

I look over, seeing Cole’s Challenger parked in the next spot. He’s home.

I knit my brow, apprehension suddenly hitting me.

The distance between us is growing, and I feel like he’s miles away these days. The need he seemed to have for me a couple weeks ago is almost non-existent now, and I wonder why I’m still here.

But I have an idea.

Guilt winds its way through my gut as I remember what happened in the shower the other day, and how my brain took a completely different turn than I wanted. Or didn’t know I wanted.

It was just the stress. The moment got away from me, and Pike was a focal point. He’s been nice and caring, and I’ve been starved for a little attention, and I zoned in on him. That’s it.

At this point, though, I have almost no reason to stay here, but still, even with Cole’s and my problems, I hate the idea of leaving. This house has become familiar and warm. A home. And even though Pike can certainly be an invasive ass sometimes, I do like him. He cares. He doesn’t express his concerns very eloquently, of course, but I know his intentions are in the right place. It’s nice to have someone looking out for me and giving a damn about what I do.

And I hate to admit it, but I like the way he makes me feel. The way his eyes look at me like I’m the only thing in the world.

Climbing out of the truck, I grab my bag with the corset in it. I changed into a T-shirt before I left the bar, and while I felt pretty exposed all night with a few more pairs of eyes on me than I’m used to, I quirk a smile to myself, thinking of the wad of tips in my pocket right now. It’s not nearly what Cam makes or what I could make bartending at The Hook, but it’s more than I normally earn in a week, so…

And I can’t lie. I kind of liked the attention. I knew the moment his eyes were on me tonight when he walked in and I was at the juke box. I could see him out of the corner of my eye when I walked to the bar, too, and I know that look. Possessive.

I lock the truck door, my heart thudding again as I head for the house.

I need to talk to Cole. I need to look into his eyes and take his hand in mine, look down at our matching little scars and see if I still feel this going anywhere. A few months ago, he always had his arm around me. Now I can’t remember the last time he’s touched me.

Entering the house, I close the door, drop my bag, and slip off my flats. I curl my toes, the ache in my feet shooting up my calves.

The living room is shrouded in shadow, and I walk to the dark staircase and stop, listening. No noise comes from upstairs, so Pike and Cole are probably both asleep. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I tiptoe into the kitchen and take a glass from the cupboard, pressing it under the water dispenser on the fridge.

But when I glance up, I see Cole in the back yard and freeze.

I drop my hand from the dispenser, the glass upending and the water in it splattering all over the wooden floor. Heat courses up my neck, my lungs empty, and I can’t look away. Everything hits me at once, and I feel like I’m outside myself, watching me watch him.

Cole.

I swallow twice, barely able to wet my throat. Elena Barros is in the pool with him, her elbows resting behind her on the edge, while he leans down into her, his forehead pressed to hers like he does with me. Her naked body glistens with water and moves in a wave, matching his rhythm as he grips her ass and fucks her, her breasts grazing his chest again and again.