Christian said easily. He rested a hand on my lower back, and I almost stepped away from the sheer heat of him before I remembered we were supposed to be dating. I’d caved and told my
friends they could tell their significant others so everyone here knew we were pretending, even if they didn’t say it. Still, should I keep up the act for simplicity’s sake or not? Indecision tightened my muscles. Christian must’ve picked up on my hesitation because his jaw flexed as his hand lingered for an extra second before he withdrew it. Relief and disappointment battled for dominance in my chest. Meanwhile, the room fell silent as six pairs of eyes ping-ponged between us. I wasn’t the only one unsure about how to treat our relationship; I could see the confusion scrawled all over my friends’ faces. An awkward shadow darkened the room before Jules clapped her hands. “Since everyone is here, let’s start happy hour! I have a new margarita recipe I’m dying for you guys to try…” No one questioned her, even though it was barely noon.
Several homemade margaritas and way too many chips later, I found myself on a couch with Ava, Jules, and Bridget while Christian, Alex, Josh, and Rhys sat across from us. I’d stuck to my two drinks per party rule, but Josh had been so heavy handed with his pour that my head swam like I’d downed half a dozen tequila shots. “We need a girls’ trip soon.” Bridget leaned her head back and yawned. “Something fun. I’m so tired of diplomatic trips. I fly thousands of miles to smile and shake hands with a bunch of old men. I could do the same thing in Parliament without the jet lag.”
“Yes!” Jules brightened at the prospect of a wild weekend abroad. “Ava, your bachelorette is coming up. Let’s make it big. Let’s make it unforgettable. Let’s make it—” “Safe and legal,” Ava said firmly. “I don’t need to go to jail again.” Ava, Jules, and I had gotten arrested during Bridget’s bachelorette after Jules punched some creep in the face for groping Ava. Thankfully, Bridget had left by then, but our stint in a cold Eldorran holding cell wasn’t one of my fondest memories. “Again?” Bridget’s head popped up. “When were you in jail?” “Uh…” Ava’s cheeks pinked. “That was a figure of speech?” We’d never told Bridget what happened because she would freak out. Besides, Alex had bailed us out and taken care of the aftermath—i.e. kept it out of the press—so no harm, no foul. “You said again.” Suspicion darkened Bridget’s elegant features. “She’s talking about the time we broke into the clock tower in college and ran into campus security,” Jules interjected. “Anyway, of course the bachelorette will be safe and legal. I like to live life on the edge, but I don’t want Alex to murder me, thank you very much.” We looked over at Alex, who was listening to Josh detail the thirty-six different uses for a jumbo banana float with a pained expression. On the other end of the couch, Rhys and Christian were engaged in conversation, their voices too low for me to hear. Rhys was scowling; Christian looked amused. It should be illegal for that much gorgeousness to occupy such a small space.
But while every man was devastating in his own right, my gaze was irresistibly drawn to the lean form lounging closest to the door. Christian turned his head at the exact moment my attention landed on him. Our gazes locked, and an electric current of something primal singed my blood.
The fogginess clouding my head suddenly had nothing to do with the margaritas. “Forget the trip for now.” Jules’s voice dragged my attention back to her, though Christian’s eyes remained a hot brand on my skin. “What was that?” “What was what?” My heart ricocheted in my chest.
The lingering aftertaste of strawberry and tequila dissolved into spice and whiskey on my tongue. It was how I imagined he would taste—like heat, sin, and pure, unfiltered masculinity.
“That.” Eyes like hazel blades punctured my feigned ignorance. She tilted her head a fraction of an inch toward Christian. “The sexual tension is so thick I can cut it with a butter knife.” “There’s
no sexual tension.” Unless you counted the ache in my core and the awareness tightening my skin. “There is. Even I feel it.” Ava lifted her hair off her neck. “If it gets any hotter, I’ll have to make Alex revisit his no PDA rule.” “Exactly.” Jules stood abruptly, drawing the men’s attention and interrupting Josh as he reached banana float use number twenty-five. “Everything okay?”
he asked. “Yep. We just need to use the restroom.” She grasped my wrist and pulled me up and toward the back of the house. Ava and Bridget followed us. “Don’t eat all the chips while we’re gone!” “I’m a doctor, and I still can’t find a medical reason for why girls always have to use the bathroom at the same time,” I heard Josh muse as we left. “You’re an idiot,” Alex said. Their voices faded when Jules pulled us into the guest bath and shut the door behind us. “Why do I feel like this is an FBI interrogation?” I leaned against the counter and eyed my friends warily.
“Because it is.” Jules planted her hands on her hips and adopted her lawyer voice. “Now, tell us the truth. Are you, Stella Alonso, having or have ever had sexual intercourse with Christian Harper?” “No.”“Do you want to?” Two seconds of hesitation was enough to elicit gasps all around. “I knew it!” Triumph glowed in Jules’s eyes. “I’m so happy for you! Finally, someone you’re attracted to. Christian is crazy hot, and you’re living in the same house. It’s like the perfect setup for a sexy fling.” Bridget was less enthused. “I thought this was a fake relationship,” she said gently. “What changed?” “Like Jules said, he’s pretty good-looking.” I instinctively grasped my crystal necklace. The warm, clear stone was supposed to clear my mind and help my focus, but my thoughts tumbled in my head like laundry set on high. “Also…”
After another moment’s hesitation, I spilled everything that’d happened. New York, Christian’s weird aversion to art, the watch, his confession about wanting me.
By the time I finished, three eyes pinned me to the marble counter with varying degrees of shock (Ava), concern (Bridget), and delight (Jules). “I had a feeling he was into you since the day we met him,” Jules said sagely. “The way he looked at you when we signed the lease?
Whew.” She fanned herself. “Listen, if you want to leave and bang his brains out, I won’t be offended. It’s a new season, babe. Time to clear out those cobwebs from your sex life. It’ll be like spring cleaning for your vagina.” I winced at the mental visual. “I wouldn’t jump into anything that fast.” A frown marred Bridget’s forehead. “Christian is, well, you know my thoughts about him already. I’m forever grateful he helped me and Rhys with our photo leak problem, but he’s not someone you turn to if you want a serious relationship.” “That’s why I said bang, not date,”
Jules said. “I bet he’s a beast in bed. He just has that look.” Heat stained my cheeks. “What would Josh say if he knew you were secretly assessing other men’s sexual prowess?” “He’d say he’s still better than them, and he’d be right. Our sex life is fantastic.” Jules cast an apologetic glance at Ava. “Sorry.”“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that last part.” Ava had accepted the relationship between Josh and Jules on the condition that they never discussed their sex life in front of her. She turned to me, her dark eyes warm with concern and curiosity. “The question is, do you want just sex with him? Or do you want something more?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jules said. “Stel isn’t interested in dating. Right?” The crystal flamed against my palm. I didn’t answer, but my silence spoke volumes. “Oh.” Jules’s smile slowly faded into realization. “Oh.”
Oh was right. I didn’t know if I wanted to date Christian, but I knew I wanted him. And I knew it was only a matter of time before the dark chemistry between us exploded into something neither of us could come back from.
25
CHRISTIAN