18. The Pantry
EVA
At the card table with a mountain of chips in front of me, my phone buzzes again, and I check. It’s Skye.
Skye: I thought Olivia was with you. Why is she here scoping out the hotel’s kitchen?
What? She’s here! I look around and don’t see her. I guess she slipped out.
That’s definitely weird. First, the hotel restaurant and kitchen are closed, and second, it makes no sense because we just ate so much we all want to die. Third, why did she leave?
Olivia.
She’s been dying to get on camera—she could definitely be the one messing with this wedding to help her exposure and drama.
Skye: She’s acting sneaky too, I think you need to come help investigate.
My top-secret special dessert is in the refrigerator of that kitchen, and if someone destroys it, I’ll be devastated. I flash West a worried look. “I gotta go.” I show him Skye’s text.
“I’m coming with you.”
As we get up to leave, Paige is gone, and Brielle is sitting on the couch with Zach now, laughing and showing major cleavage. They are both clearly drunk, and they’re both having a really good time.
Maybe too good a time.
Do I need to worry about this too? I don’t know, but our Uber arrives, and it’s time to go. As soon as West and I get to the resort, we rush back to the kitchen. It seems empty, and best of all, my dessert is still perfectly intact.
Phew.
Then there’s a noise. Maybe earlier, Olivia was scoping out the scene to return and cause the damage now?
“Who’s that?” I whisper.
“No idea. Let’s hide.” West grabs my hand and pulls me into the pantry.
With the door cracked open, there’s just enough light to find an open spot by the stacked-up soda. After West shuts it, I whisper, “We’re gonna catch her.”
“I hope so.”
Footsteps tromp into the kitchen, followed by giggles. It sounds like a man and a woman. “Has Olivia teamed up with someone?”
“Maybe. I wish we could look.” West lays his head flat to look under the crack in the door. “I just see shoes.” He stifles a drunken laugh before saying, “This is actually fitting. You know, since we met in a closet.”
“So true!” I whisk out a snort. He’s right—Sophie had just started her business, and with no money, she used a closet for an office for a while. We were both visiting her there the day we met.
We take a seat on the floor, and I hug my knees, pressed between the soda and West’s warm side. His scent of cucumber soap is thick in the air, and it’s kind of turning me on. Our collective silence swells with each passing second as we listen for the sound of the intruders on the move.
My phone buzzes, and I check it:
Skye: Olivia’s on the move again. Stay on watch!
“What a little Sneaky Pete,” I whisper.
“Eves,” West’s tone is urgent, “listen.”
I’m trying, but I’m still very tipsy. A muffled groan punctuates the cramped space. It’s Tyson. I think? He sounds… preoccupied.
“Is Tyson okay?” My curiosity piques.
“Oh, God. Yeah, baby. Just like that,” Tyson says.
“Sounds like he’s more than okay,” West says. I can picture his smirk without seeing his face.
“Take it all in like a good girl,” Tyson orders.
Oh, sweet Jesus!“Make it stop.” I gag. “We have to get out of here!” Except I don’t want to barge in on the camera guy. I mean, Paige will kill me if I get him on my bad side.
“You’re a very naughty girl,” Tyson says, followed by a slapping sound. “I’m gonna punish you so hard.”
“Jesus,” West mumbles under his breath. “I can actually feel my testicles shrinking back into my abdomen.”
“I can never unhear that.” I grimace as another groan echoes through the wood. Okay, as gross as this is, I can’t help but wish it was me doing that. I deserve hot sex! And I know West does too.
A beat of silence, then...
A woman’s voice pierces through the awkward silence like a siren. “Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh God!”
My heart kicks up a notch, pulse thudding in my ears. “Is that Olivia?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Olivia wails.
“Sounds like a ‘yes’,” West mutters.
“Tyson and Olivia,” I say, a realization dawning. Ohhh! Maybe she was flirting with Zach to get Tyson to notice her that first night? Then the dildo thing was foreplay for… this. All the times Olivia was trying to get camera time—maybe she was just trying to get Tyson? So maybe she’s not the one messing with this wedding? It seems like probably no since she clearly doesn’t want Zach.
I try to tune out the rhythmic thumping against the other side of the wall.
“This is natural,” West says, as if trying to convince himself. “It’s the biochemical symphony of our reproductive urges.” Another moan seeps through the thin walls of our cramped hell.
“West,” I whisper, pinching the bridge of my nose, “can we not turn this into National Geographic commentary?”
“Sorry,” West mumbles.
“Ooh, harder. Harder. God, harder!” Olivia squeals, and the bangs become more fervent.
At this point, I’m feigning disgust, but it’s kind of hot. It’s West, so I decide to fess up. “I hate to admit it, but I’m getting turned on. It’s been way too long.”
“Kinda me too.” He lets out a breath then starts rubbing the back of his neck. “This position isn’t ideal.”
“Here.” I reach over and give his neck the best massage I can because I care about West. And, well, I’m looking for an excuse to touch him.
He leans into me, so close I can’t massage him anymore, and the next thing I know, he’s kissing my neck.
And holy hell—does it feel good.
“Oh my God.” I close my eyes. “Should we do this?” I ask, not wanting no as an answer. His breath hits my ear, and it’s bliss. “Maybe just this once?”
“Right. I mean, it’s an emergency.”
That’s all I need to hear.
My lips are on his, and our kiss is feverish, wet, and a little raunchy. But it feels electric, and every touch sends lightning bolts to my core.
Our mouths and bodies smash together, and fireworks explode inside me. It’s like a dam breaking, every stroke of our tongues a release of bottled-up desire. My hands find their way to his hair, tugging as I deepen the kiss.
West’s arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in tight. The taste of him is a mix of whiskey and something else that’s uniquely him, and the sensation of his lips on mine consumes me as his hands roam everywhere.
His mouth moves hungrily down my jawline then to my neck. My head lolls back as he finds just the right spot to nibble on, sending shock waves down my spine.
Our breathing becomes ragged as we continue more kisses, each one more intense than the last. We can’t get enough of each other.
My hands wander under his clothing. I want to feel every inch of him. His muscles tense under my touch, and it only makes me want him more. “West,” I moan out his name, ripping his shirt off.
I must not be thinking because if I were, I wouldn’t believe what’s happening. I’m crossing so many lines with my best friend.
My hands move over his abs, past his thighs and down his pants, something that should be so weird to do with someone I know so well.
Except it’s not weird. It’s scorching hot. My body is on fire. My skin is on fire. I throw off these Godforsaken jelly shoes.
West rips off my shirt and flicks the release on my bra like a pro. I barely have time to be impressed because his mouth is sucking on my pebbled nipple. I throw my head back in a fit of ecstasy, and a pile of sponges falls to the floor. “Oh, God, West.”
“You’re so fucking hot.”
That would mean a lot normally, but especially now with my hair ratted to the moon. He climbs on top of me, and we’re skin on skin. Every touch sets off sparks in my body, igniting a bonfire. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he takes. I’m aching to be even closer.
Our kisses become more frenzied now, and I can feel his hardness pressing against me.
“I want you so badly,” he mutters as he tugs at my pleather pants.
“Me too.” I tug at his.
Footsteps tromp outside the door, and we freeze, my heart pounding a frantic beat.
The door swings wide open, and I grab a mop head to cover my boobs.
West looks ghostly.
It’s Olivia… and Tyson.
She puts a hand over her mouth, muffling a laugh.
We throw our shirts back on.
Olivia looks at Tyson and says, “If you keep our secret, we’ll keep yours.”
“Deal,” I say, the words hanging between us like a challenge.