Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Nothing. Never mind.”
I roll my eyes and step into the shoes I always wear. “Lighten up, Nathan. This is a party. You’re supposed to be having fun. Let loose. Come on.” I grab his wrist and tug.
He doesn’t budge.
“I’m not trying to get you to date me, Nate.” He’s brilliant and broody and beautiful. My personal kryptonite. “Put your black cloud away and relax for a minute. Tristan has looked over here fifteen times in as many minutes because he’s worried. At least pretend you’re having a good time.”
He sighs and lets me drag him to the bar, where I order shots.
He eyes them skeptically. “Are you sure these are a good idea?”
“Positive.” I’m pretty sure they’re the opposite, but I’m committed to this bad decision. “Give me your hand.”
He does. Albeit reluctantly.
I run the lemon wedge along the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, then sprinkle it with salt and do the same with my own. I hook my arm through his and lift a brow in challenge.
He can’t resist a dare. Not when it comes to me, apparently. He’s proven that tonight.
We shoot our shots, but before he can lick the webbing on his own hand, I grab his wrist, lock eyes, and suck his skin.
His eyes widen, then narrow as his fingers encircle my wrist, firmly but gently. Warmth shoots up my spine. Nate lowers his head, chocolate eyes fixed on mine as he bares his teeth and they press into my skin—just enough to be a warning. His tongue swipes, and he sucks, hard. Heat floods my center.
My heart thunders in my chest, and all the air leaves my lungs on a whoosh.
Nate’s full lips pull up into a devilish grin, and his teeth press in a little harder before they finally release. He picks up the lemon, sucks that too, tosses it to the ground, and walks away.
Maybe he was right about this being a bad idea after all.
Not that I’ll ever admit it.
CHAPTER 7
NATE
Iwalk away from Essie before I do or say something else I’ll regret. Putting my mouth on her was the worst idea. Because now I won’t be able to stop fantasizing about doing it again—all over her incredible body.
She keeps pushing my buttons, and I keep letting her. In fact, I fucking enjoy it. I can’t stop being a competitive jerk, or feeling guilty about the past, or wanting to peel back all the layers of her so I can see what’s underneath the gorgeous veneer.
Beyond my internal turmoil, though, I can fully admit that Essie has gone all out on this party. It’s impossible not to appreciate how much she cares about Rix and my brother.
This means I need to do better when it comes to Tristan’s bachelor weekend. It’s planned, but I want his to be just as good as Essie’s party for Rix, if not better. It needs to be a showstopper. And once again, I feel like a dick for wanting to outshine her, but she’s a freaking organizational, event-planning genius, and I can’t help myself.
Flip appears and hands me a drink.
“What is this?”
“Spiced rum and soda water with a dash of cranberry. It’s pretty good.” He scans the dance floor. “Have you seen the girls?”
“Which girls?” I sucked on Essie’s skin ten minutes ago, and my body is still overstimulated from that not-quite-innocent experience.
“Tally, Fee, and Cammie.” He shakes the ice around in his glass. “Tally can drink, and it’s an open bar. I don’t want those girls getting wasted and making bad choices.”
“Fee’s sister is here, and so are Tally’s parents,” I remind him.
“The ’rents went back to the lodge already. Someone has to monitor them.”
I tip my head.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I could call him out, but that would open the door for him to do the same with me. I’ve seen the way Tally looks at him. Not with stars in her eyes, but some kind of awareness. And Flip is always hyper-alert when she’s around, always looking out for her. Always worried. Always protective. If he gets a clue, that could change. It could also really fuck him up, and the guy has enough emotional baggage, so I keep my mouth shut.
I spot Tally sitting with her friends in the corner of the food tent. She’s lost that teenage softness over the last year. I point toward them. “They’re over there.”
“Okay, good.” His shoulders come down from his ears, and he sips his drink. “So Essie—”
“Nope.”
“She’s—”
“I’m going to use the bathroom.”
His laughter follows me as I go.
Halfway across the lawn, I spot Essie heading away from the party and into the dark. Alone. We’re in the north. There are wild animals out here. Raccoons. Bears, even. Where in the world is her self-preservation? Did she tell anyone where she was heading? What if I’m the only one who knows she’s out there on her own? I change course and follow her.