What Kind of Party?
Maisie
I was crouched behind the counter when the bell on the door jingled with the arrival of a new customer. I abandoned my search for blank rental forms and popped up to greet them, only to feel my greeting die on my lips.
Shit. It was Devon, looking just as polished as the last time I'd seen him. That was when? Maybe ten days ago? Regardless, it wasn't long enough.
He gave me a friendly smile as he sauntered shamelessly forward. I didn't bother smiling back. I wasn't happy to see him, and I saw no reason to pretend.
When he reached the counter, he leaned over it to smoothly ask, "So…how's it going?"
Why lie? "Terrible."
His smile faded. "Why? What's wrong?"
" You're here."
He drew back. "When did you get so mean?"
Okay, I guess that was a little mean, but the guy had cheated on me, lied to me, and dumped me for another girl.
Plus, I'd made it perfectly clear that he wasn't welcome. And yet, like a pushy salesman, he kept coming back.
This wasn't even the worst of it. Just a few moments ago, Griff had stepped out to hit the post office, and I dreaded the thought of him returning to find me playing nice with someone who'd seen me naked, even if this had been a while ago.
It was funny in a way. The last time Devon had stopped by, Griff had been only pretending to be my boyfriend.
And now?
We weren't faking anything.
Would I call Griff my boyfriend? I wasn't quite sure. Regardless, this past week had been like a dream – one of those wonderful dreams full of soft kisses and hard muscles, wrapping me up in more ways than one.
It wasn't just physical either. The more time went on – the more we talked, the more we laughed – the more I felt like we had a real connection, the kind that got a girl thinking about puppies and picket fences as crazy as that sounded.
In reply to Devon's question, I posed one of my own. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
He puffed out his chest. "For your information, I'm here to invite you someplace." He said it like he was inviting me to tea with a visiting duchess – probably the same one his mom had bragged about knowing while sneering at me for using the wrong fork.
But I wasn't fooled.
For one thing, I wasn't tea-with-the-duchess material, as his mom had made perfectly clear.
Recalling Devon's last invitation, I sighed. "Lemme guess. For coffee?"
He gave a theatrical little flinch, like I'd just stabbed him with a spork. "No, I meant a party." But then, with a smarmy grin, he leaned forward to add, "At the cottage. Trust me, you're gonna love it."
Trust him of all people? Yeah, right. I crossed my arms and took a single step back. "What exactly are you inviting me to?"
"I already told you. A party. " But then, he gave me a sly wink, like the party was in his pants.
I felt my eyes narrow. "A big party?"
"A private party." He glanced down toward his crotch. "And as far as the size, it depends on what you call big." He lowered his voice. "But hey, you seemed to like it the last time."
Ick.
Seriously, what a tool.
Pun totally intended.
I felt my lips curl in disgust. "You need to leave…like now. "
"But I haven't even gotten to the best part."
I gave him a scathing look. "If it's in your pants, I'm not interested."
He chuckled softly, as if I were the one making things weird. "Don't worry. Sierra's totally on board."
Yeah, right. "Oh, is she gonna be there, too?"
He gave a vigorous nod. "Sure. It was her idea."
I blinked. "Wait, what?" Something in my stomach twisted. Was this a party of three? Back when I'd been dating Devon, he'd confessed that a threesome was high on his list of fantasies. I hadn't been interested then, and I was even less interested now.
Sure enough, he said, "Yeah, she sent me over to ask."
Fantasy or not, I wasn't quite sure I believed him. From the little I knew of Sierra, she didn't seem the type to share, especially with me of all people.
I was about to deliver one heck of a rude comeback when the door gave a cheery little jingle that should've clanged like a harbinger of doom.
And why?
It was because the guy who'd triggered the jingle was – yup, you guessed it – Griff.