Chapter 18 - Boone
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Boone
I found her on the sofa before she noticed me.
Cross-legged, pencil tapping lightly against the edge of her textbook, Carissa was leaning into her work with a focused crease between her brows.
I slid onto the sofa beside her and stretched out, dropping my head into her lap with a most unceremonious plop.
“What are you doing?” She didn’t push me away. That was a start. “Can’t you see I’m studying?”
I tilted my head up to look at her, a smirk pressing at the corners of my mouth. “How was the party last night?”
Her fingers paused mid-scribble, and that frown took on a whole different meaning when a flush crept onto her cheeks. She wore shorts, and the warmth from her thighs pressed in on me, trying to lodge itself as a distraction in my brain. But I wasn’t done yet.
“After checking in with Dawson this morning, I’m even more sorry I couldn’t make it.”
Her eyes went wide, realization dawning, and I watched her expression go from mild annoyance to abject mortification. She knew I knew. But just as quickly as it had flashed across her face, it was gone again.
“You say that as if it was something you’d get in on,” she said, tone teetering between accusation and incredulity.
“Not like I haven’t done it before.” Part of me expected the blush to deepen, for her to backtrack in a goody-two-shoes kind of panic.
She did neither of those things.
Carissa looked down at me, one eyebrow raised. “Haven’t done what… A threesome with your brother?”
I laughed, a single, loud burst. “Does Dawson look like the sharing type to you?”
She didn’t have to answer that. The concession on her face said it all. Still, I could see her surprise in the subtle flare of her nostrils, the quick swallow she couldn’t hide. I didn’t know if I’d been hoping for more. Approval, maybe? Interest?
The questions died when the squeak of sneakers on the tiled floor got both our attention.
Dawson strode in, clearly fresh from a workout the way his tank stuck to him.
He dragged the towel from his shoulder as he clocked Carissa and me on the sofa.
I got a glance, but his eyes lingered on her for much longer.
Something about the look stoked the hot coals in my gut.
I let out a suggestive whistle. “Seems Carissa’s making her way through the menu. Gage better watch out, or he might be sampled next.”
Dawson’s eyes snapped to me, warning in their edge, and he said, “Shut up, or I’ll make you shut up.”
“Let me.” Gage must’ve caught the tail-end of what I said, because he pushed past Dawson to grab a pillow from the other couch and promptly hurled it at my head. My reflexes lit up, and I snapped it out of the air before it made contact.
“What have I gotten myself into?” Carissa buried her face in her hands.
I poked her ribs just enough to make her flinch. “You should’ve thought of that before you seduced us.”
“Who’s ‘us’?” Gage looked from me to Dawson, putting two and two together. Then his confusion cleared. “So I’m the one stuck babysitting while you three—”
“Not three,” Carissa cut in. Cheeks on fire, but no longer hidden behind her hands. “It was never three.”
The four of us exchanged a glance, the energy spinning around the room like an invisible current.
I stayed in her lap, riding out the playful equilibrium.
Although I was the only one lying down, I somehow felt like the only one with the advantage in this dynamic.
Having my head nestled this close to Carissa’s crotch meant I knew something the others didn’t.
Something along the lines of the lady protesting too much.
By scent alone, I picked up on her instant arousal the moment I’d mentioned a threesome. Arousal which grew more pronounced when Dawson entered the chat, all sweaty in his gym clothes.
I was sure that if I were to slide my hand over there, I’d find her shorts warm and damp.
The thought caused heat to pool low in my gut, and it was that second Henry decided to pop up.
Barefoot, in shorts and a tank in the same color as the one Dawson wore, he barely registered us. With a chilled glass of lemonade pressed to his forehead, he went straight to Carissa.
“It’s too hot today. I’m dying.”
I shot upright, my grin spreading wide. “I have an idea.”
“Why’s that look on your face making me uncomfortable right now?” Dawson tossed his towel over the back of the sofa.
“You may want to hold onto that, bro,” I said, getting up. “I think it’s time we introduce Carissa to the pool.”
We entered the pool area from the south wing.
Henry didn’t waste a second. He broke into a run, ripped his tank top off without breaking his stride, and cannonballed straight into the deep end, water erupting high enough to splash the glass doors behind us.
His laugh echoed off the surrounding walls, contained but loud, the sound bouncing back at him from every side of the house.
Carissa stopped just short of the deck, taking it in.
The pool sat dead center, the mansion wrapped around it in a perfect square, every wing feeding into the same open-air space.
Light poured down unobstructed, the pale stone reflecting it back up so everything felt bright and exposed.
No backyard vibes. This was the middle of the house, designed to be lived in.
“I should change,” she said, already glancing down at her clothes.
I hooked a thumb toward the opposite side of the pool where a row of doors sat recessed into the wall. “Showers and stalls are over there. You’ll find your pick of swimsuits. Dawson’s got a thing about being prepared.”
Her mouth tipped into a disbelieving smile as she headed that way, sandals slapping softly against the deck as she passed the outdoor showers, tiled and partially screened, water still clinging to the drains from earlier use.
Dawson was already pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it onto one of the low tables near the edge.
I followed suit, kicking off my shoes and stripping down to my shorts, the heat hitting full force once there was nothing between my skin and the sun.
The pool steps ran wide along one side, water lapping gently against the stone, shallow enough for Henry to climb out without help if he wanted to.
“Are you seriously being a party pooper on a spontaneous pool day?”
Gage grunted, seemingly bored by my spectacular dive into the water.
He’d claimed a lounger at the pool’s edge, and stretched out with one arm tucked behind his head.
From there he had a clear view of the pool, the bar to the west under its shaded overhang, and the changing stalls Carissa had disappeared into.
I stepped out of the way to avoid Dawson’s splash as he dove in after me, Henry applauding even though it was a mediocre execution. The kid was having a blast and nobody was going to stop him.
“Fine. Have it your way.” I scooped a handful of water and launched it at Gage.
“Language,” Dawson pre-empted, motioning to Henry jumping off the steps. Gage bit back the curse he was most definitely about to lay on me.
“Oh, yeah, I forget,” he said, swiping stray droplets from his face, “there are children in the pool.”
I hoisted myself out of the pool at the wall closest to him. “What did you just call me?”
“Boone, I swear to God.”
Three steps back was all I needed. Over the years, I’d perfected the cannonball to a fine-tuned art. The trick wasn’t in the run-up, but rather the flatness of one’s ass as it hit the surface of the water.
“Say it again. I dare you.” My challenge hung in the air between us. Even Henry had stopped splashing around to watch.
I couldn’t stop the grin creeping wide onto my face. Because Gage was a lot of things, but an apologist wasn’t one of them. That and his stubborn streak guaranteed that I’d get to do what I had planned.
He locked his eyes on mine, jaw stuck out as he doubled down. “You’re a child.”
“Cowabunga!”
I took off in a straight line, bare feet slapping against hot stone, water already flecking my calves as I hit the edge.
I jumped with my knees tucked and my back straight, arms locked around my shins, and hit the surface hard enough to send a wall of water climbing toward the deck.
The impact drove me under in a rush of cool pressure, the sound cutting out as the pool swallowed me whole.
For a breathless beat, there was nothing but blue and motion. Then I kicked up, broke the surface, and flung my head back. Water flew everywhere as my hair whipped free, long strands plastered to my face before I dragged my hands through it, pushing it back where it belonged.
Henry clapped from the steps, bouncing on his heels. “Do it again!”
Dawson was laughing near the ledge, one hand braced against the stone as he treaded water, eyes on Henry to make sure he didn’t slip.
Gage stayed exactly where he was, stretched out on the lounger with his jaw set tight, arms crossed, glare aimed straight at me.
He said nothing. That restraint did more damage than any curse ever could.
I floated onto my back, arms spread, soaking it all in because I’d earned it.
Then the door across the pool opened.
Carissa stepped out of the changing stalls, and the entire scene tilted on its axis.
She paused just inside the shade, one hand lifting to her neck as if she wasn’t sure where to put it, bikini straps catching the light against her skin.
The walk from the stalls to the steps wasn’t long, but it might as well have been a runway built specifically to ruin me.
Her thighs flexed with each step, muscle shifting under skin that caught the sun.
The line of her stomach drew my eye without permission, smooth and unguarded, leading up to the rise of her chest, the fabric doing nothing to hide how full she was.
My attention climbed higher, to her collarbone, her throat, the way she swallowed when she realized all of us were watching.