Chapter 26
Nico
Aman can’t even enjoy a luxury jacuzzi, glass of limoncello in hand, with an unbeatable view of the ocean when his friends are being fucking idiots.
And on the one real break we get a year.
Of course, I take a hell of a lot more vacations than the other two, but that’s beside the point.
The point is that this is supposed to be the one time the three of us can relax together. I’ve been looking forward to it even more this year—which has nothing to do with the pretty little assistant staying in the cottage down the path from us.
In years past, our uptight assistants would do exactly as they were told, staying out of our way, taking notes dutifully, reminding us to hydrate. One of them even had the gall to ask me if I knew about the damaging effects of alcohol.
“Yeah, buddy,” I’d chuffed, knocking back another tequila shot. “That’s the point.”
Those shots took their toll, and I did, in fact, feel like my brain cells were dwindling the morning after. Now, I stick to sipping alcohols, which are more satisfying anyway. This limoncello was supposed to be my opening toast to the week for the guys.
But I ended up breaking open the bottle on my own.
We deboarded the plane, waved goodbye to the pilot, and watched Lucy trek up the path to her own accommodation before continuing onto ours.
I still remember when this place was under construction. I’d been mostly in charge of designing it. My favorite part is the deck I’m on now, which sticks out over the side of the cliff’s outcropping and looks directly to the ocean.
As a teenager, I was typically looking at the water through a thick haze of smog, but it was still romantic. Now, it feels like I’ve distilled the experience down. Found the cleanest, purest cut of this scene that I can.
The guys, however, did not accept my invitations to chill in the hot tub.
Cole left pretty much as soon as we settled in here, not even trying to be sneaky about it. And Dane went straight to his room, probably sulking about not getting to sit next to Lucy on the plane, so he didn’t notice our other friend leave.
Which means, since I just heard the back door of the house close in what Dane must assume was a quiet way, that I’m going to have to follow them—no doubt to Lucy’s cottage—and make sure they don’t get in another fight.
We haven’t had one since the infamous fists thrown over the processing chips for our service robots, but it’s not like I want to repeat that. Each of them is a decade older, and their bones aren’t going to heal quite as well as before.
So, sighing and setting my limoncello to the side, I push out of the jacuzzi, water cascading to the floor around me. I towel off, throw on a floral muumuu from Honolulu, and follow Dane’s path down to the smaller cottage.
My usual calm starts to wear off when I round the corner just in time to see Dane throw open the door to Lucy’s cottage, letting loose a growling shout.
Lucy screams from within the building, the sound echoing off the walls. That, more than anything, gets my fucking ass into gear.
I love Dane like a brother, but sometimes he doesn’t think shit through. Like barging into the cottage, surely just thinking about Cole, but not realizing how that action might affect Lucy.
When I run through the open door after Dane, I expect to find him and Cole on the ground, trading blows. “Stop fighting!” I yell.
But nobody is tussling.
I barrel into Dane’s back, and he takes just a small step forward, barely budging since he’s a brick fucking wall.
“Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing at my face, “I think I broke my nose.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Dane growls, paying no attention to me, and instead looking at Cole and Lucy, who are both standing on the other side of the couch.
On the TV behind them, several reels play, showing little characters in karts, skirting around various tracks. Princess Peach slides around a curve and hits Shy Guy with a red shell, blasting over the finish line at the last moment. Peach cheers.
Lucy and Cole stand, wide-eyed, controllers dangling from their hands.
I can’t help it; I laugh out loud. Of course, Cole came down here, had a perfect opportunity to get his hands on her body, and played a video game with her instead.
“Dane,” Lucy breathes, the pure terror and shock in her voice making me a little sick. Her eyes are locked on him, wide and frozen. “What are you doing?”
But Dane doesn’t answer her. Instead, he stares right at Cole. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I expect Cole to say nothing, like he usually does, which usually manages to piss Dane off sometimes more than if he actually answers, but he doesn’t. Instead, he raises his eyebrows and looks Dane up and down. “What are you doing? Why did you come down here?”
“Wait…” Lucy says, but her voice is too small, and they hardly notice.
“Come on, guys,” I try, holding my hands up, playing peacemaker like I always do. “Let’s try and—”
“Doesn’t matter why I’m here,” Dane growls. “What matters is that I found you alone with her in the middle of the fucking night.”
“It’s not the middle of the night,” Lucy points out. “And we’re just playing…” Lucy tries, gesturing at the TV, but it’s pretty pointless. First, because Lucy is in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts and a camisole, so even sitting near her is going to be equivalent to sex in Dane’s primitive mind.
And second, it doesn’t take a genius to realize they’ve had their hands on each other. Cole’s hair is mussed, Lucy’s cheeks flushed, some of her lip gloss shimmering on his chin.
Those images jump to mind again—all of us with her at once, touching her together. Now is obviously not the time to bring them up.
“And if I had waited?” Cole asks quietly, his tone calculating, eyes settled heavily on Dane.
Cole isn’t usually very perceptive when it comes to people, but when he turns that big brain and all that processing power onto studying someone, he manages to figure things out.
“Would I have found you alone with her?”
“Does it really matter?” I interject, holding my hands up like I’m offering myself as a hostage.
Grinning, I try out one of my high-wattage smiles.
It has a fifty-fifty chance of working. Just as much of a chance at setting them off.
“We’re all here now, and we’ve got a bottle of limoncello back at the cottage, just waiting for us.
What do you say we go back there, all of us?
Lucy, what do you think? Enjoy the hot tub?
Cole doesn’t even look at me. Dane says nothing.
“That’s what I thought.” Cole continues their conversation as if I didn’t even speak, managing to be matter-of-fact, rather than smug. I close my eyes, shaking my head at them.
I could practically count down the seconds to Dane’s growled words.
“I’m going to fucking kill you.”
And with that, one of my best friends launches at the other while Lucy screams.