15. Seth
15
SETH
I unlock the door to my penthouse, trying not to watch how Abbie's hips sway as she walks ahead of me. The alcohol's making everything fuzzy around the edges, but not fuzzy enough to blur out how attracted I am to her. And that's a problem. A big one.
"Make yourselves comfortable," I say, heading straight for the bar cart. I need another drink. "Anyone want a nightcap?"
"I should probably switch to water," Abbie says, sinking into my leather couch. Her cheeks are flushed from the drinks, her lipstick slightly smudged. She looks... edible. Good enough to eat all night long.
Fuck me. What is happening here?
Corey sits next to her, close enough their thighs touch. The territorial glint in his eye isn't lost on me. I know him well enough to read his signals.
"Water it is." I grab two tumblers of whiskey for us and a water for her, desperately trying to ignore how electric her contact is when her fingers brush mine. I'm getting hotter than I want to be.
"Your place is gorgeous," she says, looking around with wide eyes. "Those windows..."
"The view's even better from the balcony." I can't believe I'm saying this. Flirting is second nature to me, has been since college. But this isn't some random girl at a bar.
This is Corey's girl. His girl. The same friend who's been there through everything - business deals, breakups, that clusterfuck in Vegas we never talk about.
I drop into the armchair across from them, loosening my tie. The way she follows the movement with her eyes makes my pulse spike.
"Seth's being modest," Corey says. "This whole building's his baby. He designed it himself."
"Really?" She leans forward, genuinely interested, and I catch a glimpse of cleavage that makes my mouth go dry.
This is such a bad idea. Such a monumentally terrible idea. But I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her, can't stop the way my body responds when she laughs at something I say.
I need her to leave. Now. Before I do something stupid.
Before I forget my friend had first dibs.
Abbie stands unsteadily to wander around my living room, trailing her fingers along the custom bookshelves. Her eyes catch on every detail - the abstract art, the vintage record player, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city lights. The way she takes it all in, genuinely fascinated, does something to me I don't want to examine too closely.
"Remember that time we broke into the dean's office?" Corey's laugh pulls my attention back. "Seth convinced him we were there to fix the AC."
"While you sweet-talked his secretary." I take another sip of whiskey, watching Corey's hand settle on Abbie's thigh as she sits back down next to him. "We were lucky campus security didn't catch us."
"What were you trying to do?" She curls into Corey's side, and something hot and unwelcome coils within me.
"Change our grades in Calculus." I lean back, loosening my tie further. "Corey was failing spectacularly."
"I was not failing-"
"You wrote 'pizza' as an answer to a derivative question."
"It was three AM! I was hungry!"
Abbie's laugh fills the room, rich and genuine. "Did it work?"
"Not even close." I grin, remembering. "We got caught by the janitor instead. Had to clean the entire science building for a month."
"Worth it though." Corey's thumb traces circles on Abbie's leg. "That's where we met Angela."
“Who is Angela?”, she asks.
"Seth dated her for six months." Corey smirks. "Until she caught him with her roommate."
"In my defense," I hold up my hands, "I thought they were the same person. They were identical twins."
Abbie's eyes sparkle with amusement. The alcohol's given her cheeks a pretty flush, made her more relaxed. More touchable.
I need another drink.
Standing, I head to the bar cart, trying to ignore how perfectly she fits against Corey's side. How his hands keep finding her body like he's mapping territory.
Territory that could have been mine if I'd met her first. Shit.
I pour myself another drink, watching Corey's hand slide higher up her thigh. The whiskey burns, but not enough to dull the ache in my groin.
"You know what I think?" My voice sounds rougher. “It’s getting a little lonely over here."
Abbie's eyes meet mine across the room, dark and inviting. My grip tightens on the glass.
Corey beckons me over. "Come sit with us then." He arches an eyebrow at me, clearly wanting to know more.
"I need your help in the kitchen first," I say, setting my glass down harder than necessary. "Got that shipment of Japanese whiskey in. Want your opinion on it quick."
He raises an eyebrow but follows me. As soon as we're out of earshot, I turn on him.
"What exactly are you playing at?" Corey says, putting his glass down harder than necessary.
"You see it, don't you?" I back against my counter, smirking. "The way she looks at both of us."
"She's mine, Seth."
"She could be our girl. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. It’s not like it would be the first time.”
Corey’s breathing heavily, and I’m trying to tell if he’s just turned on at the thought or furious. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
"Only if she's interested." I shrug, but there's nothing casual about the heat building within me. "I'm pretty sure she is. The question is - are you?"
He drags a hand through my hair, wanting to punch him. "You're insane."
"That's not a no." I say, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"It's not a yes either." But we both know it's a lie. "This could get messy. Really fucking messy."
"Everything worth having usually does." I push off my counter, headed back toward the living room. "Ball's in your court, partner."
"Make no mistake." Corey's voice drops to that dangerous octave I recognize from boardroom takeovers. "I call dibs. But..." He glances toward the living room where Abbie waits. "If she wants you like I think she does from the looks she's been giving you all night, I'm not going to deny her."
I search Corey’s expression. "You sure about this?"
"When am I not sure?" He adjusts his cuffs, a habit I've seen a thousand times before big decisions. "We'll play it by ear. See where it goes."
"Like Vegas?" The words are careless, haphazard as they run out of my mouth.
"Better than Vegas." His eyes darken with memory. "This time we both know exactly what we're getting into."
I grab the whiskey bottle, needing something to do with my hands. "And if it blows up in our faces?"
"Then it blows up." Corey shrugs, but there's tension in his shoulders. "I've seen how she looks at you when she thinks I'm not watching. And I've definitely seen how you look at her. I’m not an idiot."
I fold my arms across my chest. "We’re doing this, huh? This is…."
"Complicated? Hot? Potentially the best decision we've ever made?"
"All of the above." The whiskey burns going down. "You're really okay with this?"
"More than okay." He takes the bottle from me, taking another swig. "But remember - I saw her first."
"Yeah, yeah." I roll my eyes, but my pulse is racing. "You always did like calling shotgun."
"Let's not keep our girl waiting." He heads for the door, then pauses. "Oh, and Seth?"
"Yeah?"
"Try not to fall in love with this one."
"Screw you, King." I'm trying not to get too excited about where this goes.