Chapter 29 #3
Oh, those raging hormones of mine really don’t like that suggestion–either of them.
“Hear me out, Andi,” Raiden proposes, cracking his neck from side to side.
“Briggs serves no purpose. He’s just a space filler, and any one of us will happily pick up the slack his…
disappearance…causes. Just say the word—hell, even a twitch of your eyeball will do, and I’ll make sure he’s never found.
” Briggs stiffens, and even though I know Raiden is only joking and looking to get a rise out of him, my heart lurches at the thought of Briggs actually believing he could be so easily replaced.
“He actually serves a lot of purposes,” I retort, a sickly sweet smile twisting my mouth.
Raiden’s eyebrow quirks with interest, likely wondering if he’s imagining the innuendo.
I’m definitely embellishing on the nature of our relationship, which will no doubt only feed Briggs’ delusions of the future he envisions for the two of us, but it’s worth it to see his obsidian eyes alight with happiness.
To witness his body relax under the assurance that he’s not dispensable, at least not to me.
“She especially likes that thing I do with my tongue,” Briggs stage whispers. “I doubt she’d get rid of me for the sake of that particular talent alone. Good try, though.” He gives Raiden’s shoulder a condescending pat. My jaw drops, not expecting his dirty exaggeration.
Give the man an inch, he takes a mile.
“Oh, thank heavens,” Roy interrupts dramatically, using his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
In his current state, it’s easy to picture him as the owner of a well-established construction company.
I’m so used to seeing him impeccably dressed, with a coordinating bowtie to boot, preferring to leave the manual labor to his employees now that he’s nearing retirement age.
But it’s obvious he has no qualms with getting his hands dirty, based on the thoroughly worn work clothes he’s sporting, having spent the better part of the day emptying Raiden’s spare bedroom.
“I’m famished.” Roy smacks his stomach, going straight for the plate of burgers.
I doubt they’re even warm still, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Perfect timing!” Rita shuffles through the front door, several bags of chips balanced precariously in her hands.
Dayton follows a few feet behind, gripping a pack of buns and a beer.
Our gazes meet as he brings the bottle to his mouth, absently kicking the door shut.
He never breaks eye contact, his tongue darting out to lick away any alcohol left behind.
That heated intensity he elicits comes surging back, eviscerating all the work I just did to banish our moment on the roof to the farthest recesses of my mind.
I quickly look away, surreptitiously checking to make sure no one else bore witness to Dayton’s unraveling of my faculties.
Thankfully, everyone appears to be preoccupied with fixing their plates.
But something tells me this thing between us is just getting started.
It’s going to be a full-time job redirecting his attention, not to mention Briggs’ insistence that we’re destined to be together.
If he catches wind of Dayton’s outright claiming, I’m certain his response will be akin to a shark scenting blood in the water.
All bets will be off, and every wall I’ve erected to keep the lines of our friendship from being blurred will come crumbling down in the face of his calculated propositions.
I can’t even bring myself to think about the moment I had with Raiden in the kitchen this morning, the sight of him on his knees an aphrodisiac of its own.
And Colsen–sweet, calming Colsen who knows exactly what to say when I start to panic.
But that day at The Village, when it was just the two of us, his flirty side made an appearance, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about how filthy his mouth can get.
There’s too much chaos surrounding my life right now to even consider entertaining the idea of a relationship.
My focus needs to be on Hudson, on the kid in my stomach whose due date is fast approaching.
And yet I can’t stop thinking about them.
I’m still reeling from a single kiss, my touch-starved body begging me to pull Dayton into a darkened corner and take what it’s demanding.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt the faintest trickle of desire, and now that I’ve had a taste, I’m terrified there’s going to be no way of closing the floodgates.
No stemming the flow of my urges, my fluctuating hormones taking control with no interest in relinquishing power to my brain.
I just have to stay steadfast in my reasoning, knowing no good can come from us partaking in the carnal thoughts flooding my mind.
Things would get really messy, really fast, and our friendships mean so much more to me than simply satisfying an urge that I can take care of myself once I’m alone.