Chapter 3 — The Meeting I Didnt Call
The Meeting I Didn't Call
I spent Sunday morning cleaning my house like a man who thought order could save him.
Towels folded by the pool. Drinks chilled in the fridge.
Extra cups stacked by the outdoor bar. Seven ribeyes rested on a tray in the kitchen, already seasoned and waiting for the grill.
I opened the sliders, wiped down the patio table, checked the pool, and set the outdoor speakers to something harmless enough to suggest an ordinary afternoon.
My house. My pool. My rules.
That was the lie I had been telling myself since I walked home from the Bishop place the night before.
I had made that walk with Kiki's taste still in my mouth and the memory of her hand burned into me so clearly that the pine shadows on the path had not cooled me down at all.
She had pushed the line further than I had believed possible inside her family's house, and I had not pushed her away until Paige nearly walked in on us.
That was the part I could not dress up.
Kiki had touched me.
I had touched her back.
And all six of them had known something had happened when I came out of that laundry room.
Tatum's grin, Reese's soft knowing look, Shay's salute with her drink, Penny looking away too late, Eden watching the whole thing like a plan moving on schedule.
It had not been only Kiki. It had not been one reckless moment by one beautiful woman with too much sunshine in her smile.
They had talked.
So I did the only responsible thing I could think to do, which, in hindsight, should have been my first warning that I was in real trouble.
I invited all six of them to my house.
No families. No siblings. No Owen Kerr or Ryan Pike hovering around Kiki and making me jealous enough to hate myself for it.
No parents laughing on the patio while I tried to pretend I wasn't slowly losing my mind.
Just Kiki, Tatum, Reese, Shay, Penny, Eden, my pool, a cookout, and one calm conversation where I'd treat them like adults and tell them this could not continue.
It looked reasonable in my head.
It looked responsible.
I stood at the kitchen island with a glass of water, rehearsing the first line for the fourth time, when the side gate clicked open.
"Oh my God," Tatum Bell said from outside. "Look at this pool."
That was how control ended. Not with an argument. Not with a dramatic confession. Just Tatum's voice carrying across my patio, bright and delighted, followed by six women walking into my backyard like summer had arrived as a team.
I stepped through the slider to meet them and almost forgot every word I had practiced.
They were in bikinis they would never wear around their families.
Kiki came through the gate first in white with pale yellow ties, the top cut in a soft sweetheart shape that made her look innocent until a man had eyes.
Her golden hair was loose over her shoulders, her blue eyes went straight to me, and her smile had enough sweetness to fool an entire patio full of Bishops.
It didn't fool me. Not anymore. Not after her hand inside my shorts, her mouth under mine, her body arched into my palm.
She carried a mesh tote and a rolled towel, and she looked, in the clear noon light, like the most dangerous thing I had ever voluntarily let onto my property.
Tatum bounced in behind her wearing a citrus-orange top and coral bottoms that looked like they had been selected by someone with no interest in my survival.
Her red hair was piled up messily, freckles bright across her shoulders, blue eyes already moving from the pool to the chairs to the dock like she was deciding which part of my life to conquer first.
"Lake Luke," she said, pointing at the water, "this is criminal. You have been hiding the good pool."
"I've invited you here before."
"Not in this bikini," Shay said behind her.
Shay Hollis came through in black with red ties and a grin that made the whole afternoon feel less like a cookout and more like a dare.
Dark hair loose, vivid blue eyes alive with mischief, full breasts pushing the limits of her top, tight ass framed by a cut that belonged nowhere near a polite family gathering.
She looked me over once, openly and slowly.
"Serious Luke cleaned," she said. "That's adorable."
Reese arrived with a woven bag and a smile that warmed the patio in a different way.
Her floral bikini was peach and pink, sweet at first glance, devastating after half a second.
Glossy brown hair, honey-brown eyes, soft golden skin, curves made brighter by the way she moved like she was happy simply to be there.
She stepped past the gate and looked toward the house, the pool, the line of trees beyond the patio.
"It feels even better over here," she said. "Like summer, but private."
That should not have hit me as hard as it did.
Penny followed in metallic emerald, sunglasses high in her platinum hair, every inch of her arranged without seeming arranged at all.
She walked across the patio like my backyard had been scouted for her specifically: high-cut bottoms, glossy top, green eyes amused behind the lenses when she caught me looking.
"Hi, babe," she said, kissing my cheek with a brush of perfume and sunscreen, "I'm taking the chair with the good light."
"You don't know which chair that's."
She lowered her sunglasses a fraction. "Of course I do."
Eden came last and closed the gate behind her.
That was the part I noticed. The rest of them entered.
Eden closed the gate, slow and deliberate, hazel eyes sweeping the patio, the kitchen beyond the open slider, the towels, the speakers, the grill, me.
Her bikini was deep green with wine-red patterning and a scarf-tie at one hip.
She smiled like she had read the room and found it exactly as expected.
"You cleaned," she said.
"People do that before guests come over."
"Sure." Her smile deepened. "Guests."
The takeover happened in under ninety seconds.
Tatum dropped her bag beside the lounge chair I usually used and declared it the best one.
Reese set her sunglasses and lip gloss on the outdoor table, then asked if she could change the music while already reaching for the speaker.
Shay opened the outdoor fridge, inspected the drinks, and announced that my sparkling water selection showed promise but not commitment.
Penny draped her cover-up over the railing and stretched in the sunlight until I forgot where my hands were supposed to go.
Eden moved two towels, shifted a chair six inches, and somehow made the seating arrangement look like it had always been her idea.
Kiki walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and called over her shoulder, "Luke, where do you keep the cups?"
"Cabinet to the left."
"Found them," she said, before I finished answering.
Sandals by the gate. Bags against the wall. Sunglasses on my table. Lip gloss near the sink. A pale cover-up over the stair rail. Six different sunscreens and perfumes already mixing with lake air, chlorine, cut grass, and my own absolute failure to remain unaffected.
My quiet house changed shape around them.
I stood between the kitchen and the patio, watching my space fill with laughter and bare legs and bikini strings and bright voices, and told myself I could still gather them. I could still say what needed saying.
"Before we get in the pool," I said, raising my voice over Reese's new music, "I need to say something."
Tatum froze halfway through tossing her towel onto my chair. "Is this your serious voice?"
"It's my regular voice."
"No," she said. "Your regular voice is less clenched."
Shay laughed and leaned against the outdoor bar. "Lake Luke called a meeting."
"I didn't call a meeting."
"He absolutely called a meeting," Penny said.
Eden sat on the edge of the pool and dipped one foot in. "Let him speak. This is clearly important."
She sounded cooperative. That was how I knew I was doomed.
"About yesterday," I began.
Kiki turned from the kitchen doorway with a drink in her hand. The white bikini glowed against her golden skin. Her blue eyes moved over my face, then dropped very briefly to the front of my shorts before coming back up.
That was all it took.
The speech folded in on itself.
"Yesterday was," I said, then stopped.
"Fun," Tatum supplied.
"Complicated," I said.
"Fun and complicated," Reese said brightly. "That's a very good summer category."
Kiki walked toward me, stopping close enough that her vanilla sunscreen cut through every other scent on the patio. Her smile stayed sweet, but her voice lowered until it belonged only to us.
"You looked complicated yesterday," she said.
"Kiki."
"In the laundry room." Her fingers brushed my wrist as she passed me, feather-light and devastating. "You looked very complicated."
Then she slipped into the pool with a small splash, all white bikini and golden skin and blue-eyed satisfaction.
Tatum whooped and followed her into the water. Reese went next. Eden slid in from the steps like she had been timing the moment. Shay set her drink down, looked at me, and grinned.
"You coming in, or are we waiting for the rest of the speech?"
I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it on a chair.
There were choices a man made because he was strong. There were choices a man made because he had already lost.
I got in the pool.
The first game was keep-away. At least, it looked like keep-away if you ignored the way Eden positioned people, the way Shay kept redirecting the ball toward me, and the way every accidental brush of wet skin felt about as accidental as Kiki's foot under the Bishop dinner table.
Tatum was the first to break formation.
She came at me from behind in a burst of laughter and water, climbed my back like I was part of the pool equipment, and hooked one arm over my shoulder to reach for the beach ball in my hand.
"Cheater," I said.
"Innovator," she said, cheek near my jaw, wet breasts pressed to my back.