Chapter 14 Blake
BLAKE
“WE SHOULD PLAY,” I SUGGEST when we get back to the house. I didn’t expect that hike to get so deep, and I’m desperate to lighten the mood. Dissecting the concept of all-consuming love with Wyatt has left me unsettled.
“Play what?” he says blankly.
“Badminton.”
“Seriously?”
“Why not? Our crazy fathers will be thrilled to hear we’re commencing our training early.”
“True.” Wyatt twists his baseball cap around. “All right. I’m in.”
A quick text to his dad tells us that Houseman Henry stored all the equipment in the boathouse, so while Wyatt retrieves it, I jog into the house to grab a cooler of water bottles.
Wyatt’s already at the clearing when I return.
He’s stripped off his shirt, which means all he’s wearing now are those slutty khaki shorts and a backward cap. God help me.
It’s hot, so I take my shirt off too, leaving me in a padded sports bra and biker shorts. I tighten the laces of my sneakers so I’m not tripping over myself on the court.
Wyatt frowns. “You’re wearing a bra.”
“Oh no. Is that gonna make you want to kiss me again?”
Rolling his eyes, he passes me a racket while juggling a few badminton birdies in his other hand. “You know how to play, right?”
“Nope,” I say cheerfully. “But I assume you smash it over the net as hard as you can?”
“I mean, pretty much, yeah. But once the shuttlecock—”
“Please stop trying to turn me on.”
He snorts. “The birdie. Official name is shuttlecock.”
“Who named it that? Probably someone with a small penis, right?”
Wyatt laughs harder. “Why does his penis have to be small?”
“Because he’s treating it like a space shuttle. Like he wants it to be a rocket. But it’s not. So he’s projecting via badminton.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what’s happening.”
We jog to opposite sides of the net. I adjust my grip on the racket. “Loser does the dishes for the rest of the summer,” I call out.
“I’m not taking that bet.”
“Scared?”
He spins the racket, showing off. “No, I just know that you can never bet on sports outcomes to go your way. What if I trip on a rock and break my leg? Then you’d win by default.”
“You know who wouldn’t trip and break their leg?”
“Who?”
“A good badminton player.”
“Oh, fuck off. No bet.”
“Fine. Winner gets the glory.”
Although he’s, like, ten feet taller than me, I’m decently athletic, so the match ends up being competitive right off the bat.
Wyatt tosses the shuttlecock into the air, then smacks it with a loud thwack, sending it flying toward me with unexpected speed.
I lunge, my sneakers squeaking on the grass. Somehow, I manage to return it with enough force to make him sprint backward. Wow. I’m good at this.
The game escalates fast. Suddenly we’re not just volleying anymore.
We’re going hard. Wyatt dives for a save, landing on his side and barely popping the shuttlecock back over the net, and as it hurtles my way, I don’t bother playing nice.
I smash it down like I’m trying to end his professional badminton career.
“Fuck off! That was a body shot!” he shouts, laughing breathlessly.
“Play better, sweetheart,” I tell him, twirling my racket in a dainty spin.
“You’re a mean badminton player,” he informs me.
“What’s a matter, songboy? Can’t handle the heat?”
“Songboy? Don’t make fun of music.”
“I’m not making fun of music. I’m making fun of you.”
After my next serve, our rally hits ten volleys. We’re both panting by the time I miss the eleventh return.
Sweat drips down Wyatt’s temple as he raises his racket again. “Prepare to eat my shuttlecock, Logan.”
“That sounds so wrong,” I reply through a wave of laughter.
We’re both starting to glisten. Sweat is dripping between my breasts and coating my face.
I call a time-out and jog to the cooler to grab some ice cubes.
I rub them over my neck and collarbone, sighing happily at the cooling sensation.
It doesn’t even occur to me I might be acting seductive until Wyatt eyes me over the bottle of water he’s chugging.
“Freckles,” he warns, wiping water off the side of his mouth. “You need to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“I don’t know. Trying to tempt me.”
My jaw drops. “You are so full of yourself.”
“Really? So rubbing ice all over your tits is not for my benefit?”
“Is it working?” I challenge.
“So you are doing it.”
“No, I’m just saying, if you think I’m trying to tempt you and you’re being tempted, then maybe the problem is yours.”
We stare at each other.
“This fucking dynamic,” he mutters.
Yes, it’s very strange. I’ll give him that. We argue all the time. Constantly goading each other, testing each other. But it’s not hostile. He just draws out emotions in me.
That and he’s so gorgeous I can’t think straight.
The sun is making the sheen of sweat on his chest glisten, tracing the delicious cut of his abs.
My mouth waters as I watch a bead of sweat drip from the curve of his collarbone and slide down his torso, winding a path through the light dusting of hair that arrows into his waistband.
“I’m not trying to tempt you,” I say, finding my voice. “I’m overheated.” I pop an ice cube into my mouth and crunch it loudly between my teeth. “Come on. Let’s continue the game so I can finish embarrassing you.”
We’re drenched in sweat by the time we call it quits. Wyatt emerges the victor, but I’m genuinely impressed with myself. I didn’t expect to be this good at badminton of all things. Maybe I’ll put some real effort into this family tournament the dads are planning.
I flex my right wrist, finding it surprisingly tender. “Jeez. Who would’ve thought flicking a shuttlecock would make me this sore?”
Wyatt sighs. “Please don’t ever use the phrase flicking a shuttlecock again.”
“Too sexy?”
“Obviously.”
Grinning, I set my racket on top of the cooler. “I’m going to take a shower and then fix some lunch. What do you want to eat?”
“Burgers?” he suggests.
“Sure. I’ll prep some sides when I’m out of the shower.”
“I’m gonna put the equipment away,” he says, bending to pluck a birdie off the ground. “It all needs to go back to the boathouse. I’ll find you in a bit.”
I go inside to wash the layers of sweat off my body, then change into a loose sundress and brush my wet hair into a ponytail. When I check my phone, I find a missed call from Beau Di Laurentis, quickly tapping his name to call him back.
Rather than hello, Beau answers with, “I need you.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask instantly. “Who do I need to hurt?”
I’m only half kidding. Truth be told, the Golden Boys are my ride or dies, especially Beau.
It could’ve gone sideways real fast after we slept together, but to my relief, there’s been no awkwardness between us since that night.
Which only affirms that he was the right man for the job.
Not only was he gentle and patient, but he also behaved perfectly afterward. Beau’s honestly the best guy I know.
“The rest of our family,” Beau answers. “We’re going to crush them. You and me. The two Bs.”
“I’m sorry. Is this about the badminton tournament?”
“Yeah, word just came down the pipe that it’s—”
“What pipe?” I interrupt with a snort.
“Man Chat. We were just informed it’s mixed pairs. Ergo, I’m claiming you as my partner.”
There’s a buzz in my ear. “Hold on. I’m getting a text.”
“Don’t you dare answer it,” Beau growls. “It’s gonna be AJ.”
I tilt the phone to peer at the screen. Sure enough, it’s a text from AJ Connelly.
AJ
Hey B. I need you to be my partner for the badminton tourney.
“He’s trying to be your partner, isn’t he?” demands Beau. “Tell him he’s too late.”
“I don’t know,” I tease. “He’s got a few pounds of muscle on you.”
“Blake Josephine Logan,” he warns. “Remember who gave you your first orgasm…”
I burst out laughing. “Don’t you dare use that against me in the name of badminton.”
His tone takes on a pleading note. “Come on, I asked you first. Say yes.”
“Sure, whatever, yes.”
“Yes! I love you! Thanks, B.”
“You’re welcome. All right, I gotta go prep dinner.”
“Wait, how’s it going in Tahoe? I heard Wyatt’s there.”
“Yeah, he’s up here writing music.”
“You guys hanging out a lot?”
“A little. But you know him. He’s in his own world when it comes to his music. And I’ve been researching a lake haunting. We went out today to look at the tree where my ghost met her secret lover before she drowned herself.”
There’s a beat.
Then Beau sighs. “You are such a raging dork. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Right back at you.”
After we say goodbye, I open AJ’s text to respond.
Sorry, I’ve already been claimed.
AJ
Asshole. Now I’m gonna be stuck with Ivy.
Isn’t your girlfriend coming this year?
AJ
Tara doesn’t have an athletic bone in her body.
You can try to take Alex.
AJ
She’ll be with Wyatt.
Fuck you, Blake Josephine. Always playing favorites.
I love you too, Adam Jensen.
As I’m heading downstairs, I send a message to my family group chat.
Hey guys, this badminton thing is getting way too serious. The Golden Boys are ready to kill each other to partner up with me. This is supposed to be fun.
DAD
This is a blood fight to the death. There is nothing more serious than this.
That’s on me. I should’ve known better than to expect common sense from my father.
In the kitchen, I slice up a tomato and prep other burger fixings. Wyatt isn’t on the deck, and I notice the barbecue hasn’t even been turned on, so I walk outside to the railing and scan the area in search of him. When my gaze locates him, I almost choke on my tongue.
He’s standing under the outdoor shower behind the boathouse.
Naked. Gripping his dick.
Oh.
I guess his wrist isn’t sore.
I can’t breathe, my heart hammering hard against my ribs. Wyatt has one hand pressed against the wooden wall, and with his body slightly bent and angled to the side, I’m provided with a perfect view of not only his gorgeous dick but also his tight ass.
His body is spectacular, just like I knew it would be.
I’m frozen in place, captivated by the sight of his fist moving over his long, thick shaft. I know I should walk away, but I can’t make my legs function.
And then it’s too late, because his head shifts and our eyes collide.