Chapter 32 Blake
BLAKE
THE BADMINTON TOURNAMENT IS AS intense as I expected it to be. If it were any other family, this might be a pleasant day of some sports, some beer, and some laughter. But this is my family, and every single one of them is competitive to the extreme. Aggressively so.
My dad and Allie win their heat against my mom and Dean, which only intensifies the hostilities because Dean is the king of tantrums, and when Garrett and Hannah come from behind to knock out Gray and Stella in an upset for the ages, the entire playing field goes wild.
The day devolves into a barbecue and drinking session that ends at the firepit with all the younger people gathered on chairs and blankets, getting wasted and skewering marshmallows over the flames.
I sit with Alex, Gigi, and Stella, drinking my third glass of white wine and catching up with the girls, while several feet away, Wyatt chats with Gigi’s husband and sneaks looks at me.
By the fire, Gray and AJ laugh their asses off about something.
Beau sits on an Adirondack chair nearby, talking to AJ’s girlfriend, Tara, a petite girl with shiny blond hair and a Disney-princess face.
AJ, Tara, and the Davenports arrived yesterday morning, courtesy of Wyatt, who grabbed them all from the airport, mostly because we needed an excuse for him to stop at the CVS first and pick up our Plan B.
Tara is currently perched on the edge of Beau’s chair, leaning in close every time she says something. She touches his arm too, more than once, which raises my hackles.
“Are you seeing this?” Alex murmurs as we watch AJ’s girlfriend flirt with Beau.
Beau, of course, doesn’t seem to notice how obvious Tara is being, because men are clueless. He’s just being his usual lovable self.
“Oh yeah. This girl is shameless,” Stella says, rolling her eyes.
I glance over. “Is she?”
I don’t know Tara well at all. She and AJ started dating freshman year at Briar, but this is her first time coming to Tahoe with him. He clearly adores her, though. He’s been doing things for her all day. Refilling her drinks, bringing her snacks, always asking if she needs anything.
“Shameless,” Stella confirms. “And AJ is such a simp for her, which she takes full advantage of. Ivy and I were talking about it the other day. Like, after two years, he still can’t figure out she’s using him.”
“Using him for what?”
Stella shrugs. “Clout, probably. His dad’s won two Stanley Cups.”
“Your dad won a cup too,” I point out. “She could’ve gone for Gray.”
“Nah, Tara isn’t stupid. Gray is a forever fuckboy,” Stella says of her brother. “Everyone knows that.”
I glance toward the fire at the dark-haired guy. With his bronzed skin, piercing eyes, and killer smile, Gray could get any girl he wants. And he does. Often. Stella’s right. Of the three Golden Boys, Gray’s the one I can never see settling down.
“If she’s angling for a ring on her finger and to marry into hockey royalty, she knows her best bet is AJ,” Stella says, cynic that she is. “Poor dumb Connelly. She’ll cheat on him first chance she gets.”
“I mean, she already has,” Ivy chimes in from the other end of our blanket. Beau’s sister is so sweet and unassuming, I sometimes forget she’s there. “Remember Christmas in Miami?”
“What happened in Miami?” Alex asks curiously.
“Oh shit, we never told you about that?” Stella grins.
“So Ivy and her brother and AJ and Tara come to Miami with us over the holidays to spend a few days at my grandparents’ place.
Tara says she has some sorority sisters down there and disappears for the entire day, supposedly to hang out with them. ”
“But,” Ivy pipes up, “we already knew from stalking her IG page when she first got together with AJ that she has an ex who lives in Miami. We saw all their pictures before she deleted them.”
“So we’re all supposed to go out to dinner, but this bitch just disappears and then strolls into the restaurant forty-five minutes late—”
“After AJ’s been trying to text her for hours,” Ivy says.
“Smelling like cologne that definitely wasn’t AJ’s,” Stella finishes, “and thinking no one notices. Please.” She mimics a high voice. “Oh my God, you guys, traffic was crazy.”
Ivy giggles. “And Stella goes, traffic doesn’t leave bite marks, sweetie.”
Alex and I snicker. “You are such a bitch,” Alex informs Stella.
“Oh, I’m more than a bitch. I’m a total cunt,” Stella drawls, and we all howl with laughter. “Anyway, so she tells this insane story about her sorority’s sister’s dog getting too excited when it was greeting her, and that’s why she had a bite mark on her neck.”
“And AJ’s just sitting there, nodding along,” Ivy says, sighing.
“This dumbass believed every word.” Stella again. “She’s babbling, making up shit about exuberant dogs, and AJ’s like, oh man, some dogs really need obedience training, huh?”
I sigh too. Why are men so blind when it comes to toxic women?
“Best Christmas I’ve had in years,” Stella says, grinning wickedly.
Our attention is diverted when we hear AJ calling out to his girlfriend. “Hey, babe, get over here!”
Everyone but him notices how reluctant she seems to slide off the arm of Beau’s chair.
When she joins AJ, he wraps both arms around her from behind and kisses her neck, and to Tara’s credit, she does tip her head back to meet his lips for a kiss.
Then again, she just spent the last hour flirting with his best friend, so…
her pity kisses mean nothing in my eyes.
I get up and brush a twig off my shorts, then make my way to the now-solo Beau.
When I reach him, he tugs me into his lap and slings an arm over my shoulder.
There’s nothing romantic about it, but considering I was having sex with Wyatt only a few nights ago, it sort of feels like I’m doing something wrong.
Beau flashes that beautiful smile of his, the one that never fails to make you take a second look.
He truly is one of the best-looking people I’ve ever seen in my life, though I suppose it’s in the genes.
His father is basically a male model. His mom is a gorgeous actress.
His aunt could stop traffic. Both his sisters are stunning—Ivy is the ethereal fairy-princess ballerina who belongs in live-action Disney movies, and Kate, who’s only fifteen and should be going through her gangly teenage phase, could already sign an exclusive modeling contract.
“You’ve barely spoken to me all day,” Beau complains. “Should I be insulted?”
“I mean, it’s hard to speak when our parents are vowing to murder each other over badminton.”
“Yeah, that was intense.”
I feel my skin prickling as if someone is watching me, and sure enough, I find Wyatt’s gaze on me when I turn my head. He’s still talking to Ryder, but he’s got his phone in hand now, typing something.
Seconds later, mine buzzes in my back pocket.
Beau grins when he feels my butt vibrating. “Not gonna check that?”
“Nah. Probably my mom saying they’re going to bed.”
I swipe Beau’s plastic cup from his hand and take a gulp, trying to cool myself. Wyatt’s heated gaze is making me feel flushed. But the beer has been warmed by the fire and only spikes my body temperature.
“So listen,” I tell Beau. “The girls and I had front-row seats to the show, and…you might not want to be so friendly to Tara.”
His forehead wrinkles. “Why? We were just talking.”
“You were just talking. She was having sex with you in her head.”
Beau snorts. “Come on.”
“Trust me. We all see it.”
“She’s with AJ.”
I tip my head in challenge. “According to Stella, it wouldn’t be the first time Tara strayed.”
“If you’re talking about the Miami thing, they worked that out.”
“By worked out, do you mean she made up a bullshit story and he bought it?”
“Pretty much.”
“Either way, she strayed.”
“Okay, well, if she’s trying to stray with me, that isn’t gonna happen.” He flashes that boyish, all-American smile again. “I’m a classy boy.”
“Just saying, don’t encourage her. We were all getting bad vibes.”
“Or maybe you’re jealous,” he counters, winking at me. “Want me all to yourself, huh?”
“Yes. That’s exactly it.”
His hand brushes mine when I pass his drink back, and I notice his eyes are starting to look out of focus.
We sit and chat for a bit until Stella raises the volume of the music playing on the outdoor speakers.
The sultry beat snakes into everyone’s blood, and soon we’re all dancing.
Stella and Alex challenge each other to a dance battle while Ivy watches and giggles.
In the shadows, Gigi and Ryder sway as if in a world of their own, his intense eyes locked on his wife’s face. Lord, that man adores her.
AJ and Tara are wrapped all over each other as they move to the beat, and it isn’t long before Beau pulls me off his lap and convinces me to dance with him.
Gray joins us, and I take turns dancing with both Golden Boys, all the while feeling Wyatt’s green eyes tracking my every move.
Maybe it’s all the wine I consumed, but I’m feeling more relaxed than usual, allowing myself to get lost in the music.
I never dance when I’m sober because I feel too self-conscious, but once I’m loosened up, I love it.
Gray wanders off to get another drink, and Beau closes in again, pulling me tight to his body.
I’m startled by how much bulkier he feels.
Going into his junior year, I know he’s angling for the hockey captain position, and I realize he must be spending a lot of time in the gym and on the ice lately. He’s broader now.
I throw my arms up, and he moves in behind me, sliding his hands up and down my hips. It’s fun and boozy and we’re both breathless, faces flushed. I laugh when he spins me and then tugs me close. In the flashes of firelight, I catch Wyatt’s eye, but I can’t make out his expression.
I spin around again before tossing my hair over my shoulder. The move inadvertently gives Beau access to my neck, and I falter when he nuzzles it, his mouth ghosting over my skin. Then he thrusts a thigh between my legs, and that’s when I realize he’s hard.
Beau’s lips find my ear. “B… I wanna fuck you.”
Shit.
Resting my hands on his shoulders, I try to make a joke of it. “I think someone’s had too much to drink.”
He counters with, “I think someone is the hottest girl I’ve ever known in my life.” He bites his lip, desire straining his chiseled features. “Let’s go somewhere. Boathouse? Sauna? Please.”
“Not a good idea,” I murmur back, and then I’m saved by Alex, who waves me over to dance with the girls.
I leave a frustrated Beau behind me, feeling pretty frustrated myself. I know he’s drunk, but…fuck. Why did he have to go there? We’ve been doing the platonic thing for years now. I assumed the attraction was long gone on his end, same way it is on mine.
Sensing Wyatt’s gaze on me again, I edge away from the girls and check the message on my phone.
SONGBOY
Meet me behind the boathouse. I want to make you come.
My pussy clenches. I glance toward the fire, where Wyatt stands in the light of the flames, eyes fixed on me. Fingers trembling, I finally respond.
Ten minutes.
With as much nonchalance as I can muster, I rejoin the girls and dance with them for precisely one and a half minutes before blurting out, “I’m going to pee.”
They give me strange looks. “Okay,” Stella says.
I casually leave the firepit and make my way to the path.
Luckily, the boathouse is on the other side of our sprawling compound.
I pick up my pace, passing the lower deck and the dock, and hurry toward the boathouse.
The security cameras only cover the doors, so I creep along the side of the dark structure, past the outdoor shower where I caught Wyatt jerking off that day.
The second I round the corner, he steps out of the shadows and wraps his arms around me.
I squeak in surprise, but he muffles the sound with a kiss.
“These fucking shorts,” he mutters against my lips. He’s already undoing the button and pulling on my tiny zipper. They’re so small they barely require one.
“Why are you so angry at my shorts?”
“Because they’re keeping me from your pussy,” he says, “but also taunting me with it at the same time. I can see your ass cheeks coming out of them.”
He wiggles the shorts down my thighs, along with my skimpy panties.
“Not even gonna say hello?” I tease.
He cuts me off with a kiss, his hand already slipping between my legs. Pleasure skates through me as he cups my pussy and massages my clit with his fingertips.
“Lift this leg up,” he groans against my mouth.
He smacks my ass cheek, and I obey, lifting my leg and propping it on his hip. It opens me up to him completely, and he pushes two fingers inside me. He curls them slightly, hitting a spot that makes me gasp, and a shock wave ripples through my body.
“I want to fuck you so bad, baby. But we don’t have enough time right now, so I want you to pretend my fingers are my cock, okay? Pretend it’s me inside you, fucking you so good and deep.” He withdraws his fingers, then thrusts them back in. “You feel that?”
I feel everything. My hips buck against his talented fingers, my breath caught in my lungs. Normally I would require stimulation to my clit, but this spot he’s hitting is so exquisite that I feel the telltale tingles of orgasm fluttering in my core.
“Jesus, you’re soaking my hand,” he mutters.
He keeps finding that spot with his fingers, and my whole body starts to shake.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I gasp.
He gives me a low, filthy laugh. “That’s my girl.”
Then he curls his fingers again and I cry out with release. He cuts off the sound by covering my mouth with his palm while his other hand continues to finger me until I finally go limp and he has to steady me before I topple over.
Wyatt looks mighty pleased with himself as he slips his fingers out, and I moan when he slides them into his mouth and sucks my orgasm off.
“Fucking delicious,” he hums.
Catching my breath, I attempt to fix my hair so it doesn’t resemble a bird’s nest.
“Go,” Wyatt tells me. “Before anyone notices we’re missing.”
My gaze lowers to the very visible bulge at his crotch. “I feel like I shouldn’t be leaving you in this condition.”
“I’ll take care of it later.”
I fight a moan. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”
“If you’re good, I’ll send a video,” he drawls, and then he smacks my ass before I disappear into the shadows.