9. Caroline
CHAPTER 9
Caroline
What the hell just happened?
I hit the sidewalk outside of the apartment building and take a deep breath of warm air. I don’t have a car in town and I’m a little drunk, anyway, so I order a car service. Cas was really plying me with red wine.
And I was downing it because my thoughts are all jumbled.
Pacing back and forth, I try to relax my shoulders as I wave a bug out of my face. I can smell the ocean, which normally is soothing, but tonight just reminds me of that summer all those years ago when I was drunk in the boathouse with James and we were frantically pawing at each other’s clothes.
Cas said James was still attracted to me. James agreed. Cas also said he was attracted to me and that they on occasion open their marriage to a woman.
The very thought of that woman being me has my nipples tight and my pussy uncomfortably damp. Was that what they were suggesting? It certainly sounded that way.
I text Frannie.
Are you home or at work?
Home. What’s up?
Good. I need emergency girl time.
I’ll run out for wine.
I don’t need any more wine. This calls for a clear head.
Well. As clear as it’s going to get when I’ve had three glasses of wine and two hot men hitting on me. Because I think that’s what they were doing. It certainly seemed that way.
Then there’s Grayson Ross.
That man.
Fuck.
I wave my hand in front of my face, which is blazing hot.
I don’t understand him. Was he flirting with me? Or does he genuinely believe that I’ve never seen a grown man masturbating?
It’s been a minute, but I am no stranger to the naked male form—thank you very much.
My car pulls up and I jump in, glancing up at the apartment windows. I don’t know what I’m expecting to see. It’s not like any of the three men will be staring down, watching me leave with an expression of longing or anything.
The driver is chatty and I’m struggling to hold a conversation with him. Fortunately, it’s a short five-minute drive to Fiona and Frannie’s quintessential Carolina beach cottage.
I love this house. I thank the driver and hop out, instantly feeling less jittery and strange. The house is pink with white trim and a yellow door and has a deep front porch with four rockers on it. It looks worthy of two female pastry chefs.
Fiona has a habit of leaving the front door unlocked, so I’m able to go right in without digging for my keys. It drives Frannie crazy because she is definitely the more cautious of the two. She can fret about anything, whereas Fiona is willing to walk a little more on the wild side. Their triplet, Finley, is in law school and she loves live bands and drinks straight whiskey.
Most people who meet Fiona and Frannie have a hard time telling them apart, but I’ve known them for so long it seems weird to me that anyone gets confused. They have different expressions and subtle variations in their hand gestures.
Fiona is in the living room, feet up on the coffee table. Frannie is in the kitchen, making popcorn. She has an open lager can on the counter.
“Hey,” I say, flopping down onto the chair opposite Fiona.
“Hi!” Frannie calls out. “What is going on? Tell us everything.”
“Did you fuck Grayson Ross yet?” Fiona asks, her eyebrows rising up and down. She shoots me a gleeful grin.
“What? No.” Though that doesn’t mean I haven’t considered it. “I walked in on him naked. Jacking off.”
A bowl rattles in the kitchen. “ What ?” they both say simultaneously.
“How did that happen?” Frannie demands, juggling the popcorn bowl and her beer and coming over to the couch.
They’re both in shorts and easy tank tops.
The cottage is small, but light and airy, with big comfy furniture that allows you to sink deep down into. The kitchen cabinets are soft pink and all the accent decor is shades of pink as well. They like to refer to the house as the pink palace. It suits them and it’s very homey and comforting.
“I couldn’t find the formula, so I went into his bedroom—the door was open, by the way—to ask him and he was just standing naked in front of the mirror stroking himself.” I add an unnecessary hand gesture, but what can I say? I’m flustered.
Fiona snorts. “Damn. Did he stop?”
“No. We made eye contact in the mirror. It was…kind of hot. He looks really good naked.”
“Did he say anything about it?” Frannie asks, setting the bowl down and curling up on the couch next to Fiona, tucking her feet under her butt.
“I asked him if he felt better, because I had to say something, and he said yes. He kind of apologized, but not really, and I kind of apologized for not knocking. It wasn’t super awkward, it just made me very aware that I am severely in need of a good wall bang.”
“Aren’t we all,” Fiona says ruefully.
“Yes,” Frannie says emphatically.
“But then he started showing me a whole bunch of nanny candidates and they were all young and hot and I don’t know. Getting involved with Grayson seems so dangerous. Like he could drag me into his hot rich guy orbit and I’ll have to fight to get back out.”
“I can see that. He’s definitely alpha.” Frannie nods. She tosses a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
I hesitate. I want to tell them about James and Cas and what maybe felt like a hint at a threesome, but I’m not sure it’s my place to divulge what they shared about their marriage. That was told to me in what I have to assume was confidence, so I have to tiptoe around it.
“Then I had dinner with James and Cas, and well…it all felt so nostalgic and flirty and fun. I felt like I was sixteen all over again, hanging out with James, and yet we’re both full-fledged adults now. He’s married, he’s a dad. I’ve traveled all over. I always knew he was my first love, but spending more time with him now just confirmed it.”
I feel miserable and aroused and excited and confused, all at once.
Fiona pauses with a piece of popcorn at her lips. “Are you still in love with him?”
“No! Of course not.” I’m not. “It was teen love, which is different. I still care about him, though. I just mean…it’s nice to see him again,” I finish, frustrated. I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say.
I don’t know if I’m reading too much into what happened.
Was it really sexual tension or am I just really damn horny?
Or is it both?
I grab a huge handful of popcorn and shove it in my mouth.
“We should go dancing in Charleston this weekend,” Fiona says, dropping her feet to the floor and stealing her sister’s beer. She takes a huge sip. “Let’s get our slut on. Dress up, grind on some guys.”
“No, thank you,” Frannie says.
It doesn’t sound appealing to me either.
I don’t think I want a random guy to hook up with.
But dancing would be a nice distraction. “I’ll spontaneously combust if I grind on a guy, but I’m up for going out.”
“Don’t be a bore,” Fiona says to Frannie. “You’re going.”
Frannie sighs. “I’m not wearing heels.”
“It’s Charleston, not Atlanta. We’ll wear sandals and short dresses. It will be fun.”
What would be fun would be to be naked between James and Cas.
Or Grayson Ross.
Or all three…
Oh, my God.
I reach out and grab the beer from Fiona and drain it.
My mouth is suddenly very dry.