CHAPTER ONE
Grayson
There was nothing like the deep blue waters of Saint-Tropez. That was why I’d chosen to come here when I started planning my celebration for the international launch of Hooked. A launch that had consumed our team of coders for months, all led by Drake from the moment we’d hired her as our director of app development and engineering. The rollout that had just taken place a month ago. The result was an explosion in memberships, an overwhelming amount of press, and an income that had fucking skyrocketed.
Things weren’t even close to settled at the office. Shit, there were still flames that needed to be tended to on a minute-by-minute basis. But after four weeks of living at my desk, working twenty-hour days, I had declared it time to party.
Holden had taken his daughter, Belle, to Disney. Easton and Drake were tucked into their love nest.
I wanted to be on the water.
So I rented a hundred-and-fifty-foot yacht and invited nine guests to join me for a weeklong cruise.
Of course, six of those guests were women.
We were only two days into the trip, and I was already having the time of my life.
And what made my smile grow even wider was that whenever I took a break from the fun and logged into Hooked’s database to check how many new members had come in, the number had doubled from the last time I’d looked.
But according to the number I was staring at now, it had tripled.
Fuck yes.
“How about a refill?”
I glanced up from the screen of my phone. The butler was at my side with a freshly poured scotch on his tray.
I shot back the remaining sip in my tumbler and handed him the empty. “I’d love one. Thank you.”
We exchanged glasses and I gazed out onto the Mediterranean, my phone now in my pocket, but the two million users who had come in over the last twelve hours were stamped on my mind.
This was power.
This was a level of success I hadn’t anticipated when my friends and I had sat around the living room of our tiny apartment near Harvard, dreaming of the future of our app.
But now that we were already the largest dating app in the country and about to take over that worldwide spot, there was no going back. The top position was what I wanted and the only goal we hadn’t yet reached. As chief marketing officer, I was going to make sure it happened.
That nothing stopped us.
That nothing got in our way.
Like a woman trying to slide into my life and slow me down, or another company attempting to steal our market share.
There wasn’t anyone more single than me.
And as for the competition, we were currently in litigation with an ex-employee and Faceframe, the social media giant he had left us to work for. We were suing them for stealing our proprietary software and launching a similar type of app. But The Dalton Group, the set of lawyers representing us, assured us that we had the case in the bag.
Just two more reasons to celebrate.
And the yacht was an excellent place to do it.
The only thing that could make this vacation better was if my best friends had joined me.
But my other buddies who had come along were doing a fine job at making sure our time on this boat was well spent. They were in the hot tub now, waiting for me to join them, but I was just going to sit here off the port side, relishing in this view for a little while longer.
Not the sea, although it was certainly serene.
I was looking at them.
The six beauties tanning in lounge chairs only feet from mine. With their asses pointed high in the air, their skin oiled and glowing from the sun, a rainbow of string bikinis barely covering them.
Jesus fucking Christ.
France’s scenery was something special, but it didn’t compare to this view. A redhead, two blondes, and three brunettes, ranging from toned to curvy, tall to petite, gorgeous to stunning.
I was one happy man.
But as I attempted to make myself more comfortable, crossing my legs over the small table in front of me and sipping my scotch, digging for the cigar in one of the pockets of my swim trunks, something fucked up happened.
One of the brunettes glanced up and our eyes locked.
Within a blink, her face changed.
Her eyes now a bright blue.
Her nose small and sloped.
Her lips plump and pouty.
I knew that face.
It was one I couldn’t forget.
One that, the last time I’d seen it, had accompanied her holding up her middle finger before she walked out of my doorway.
Jovana.
My legs dropped from the table, my hand gripping the glass so hard I thought it was going to break.
What the fuck?
What is she doing here?
Her gaze pierced mine.
Her nose scrunched, her lips pursed, like she’d whiffed something rotten, the same expression she’d worn before she fled my condo.
You can’t be here.
I didn’t invite you.
I don’t even know how to get in touch with you.
My eyes were just playing tricks on me.
They had to be.
The brunette’s name was Rachel or Rebecca or Rhonda—something that started with an R.
I blinked.
Again.
And again.
And finally, Jovana’s face was gone.
Relief flooded my chest and I shook my head, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands, making sure her face didn’t return.
It didn’t.
Thank God.
But for that brief second, I swore it was her, and that was all it took for my heart to start pounding and my cock to turn hard.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Why am I acting like a fucking schoolboy? With jitters in my chest and a hard-on in my trunks?
I didn’t want Jovana here.
I didn’t give a shit about what she was doing or how she felt or the level of hate she had toward me.
I hadn’t even seen her since the night she’d left my condo two months ago—the rollout had kept us so busy, the guys and I didn’t have a chance to pop by the bar.
So I didn’t understand why my brain was conjuring up images or why my body was reacting so strongly.
She was an ex-fish.
I’d moved on to bigger and better catches.
In fact, there was an entire school of fish on this yacht.
And I was loving it.
I was loving life.
But even though I no longer saw her face, the feeling hadn’t left my body. There was this nagging ache inside me that made absolutely no sense. That I couldn’t push away even with a hard swallow or by tapping my fist against my chest.
Or even by looking at the school of six.
Surely, alcohol could make it all disappear.
I downed what was left in my glass, the liquor just starting to burn my throat as I heard, “You all right, buddy?”
My friend Freddy stood by my chair, the dermatologist looking at me as if I were in one of his exam rooms. “Yeah ... why?”
“You’re a little flushed.”
“Flushed?”
Damn it, I’d loved that color on Jovana.
Jovana?
Why am I still thinking about her?
“Nah, I’m not flushed,” I told him. “I’m buzzed.” I pointed at the sky. “And I’m hot as hell from all this sun.”
He shook my shoulder before he took a seat beside me. “It’s time to get some rays on that pasty New England skin of yours.” He smiled. “But you do have sunscreen on, don’t you?”
I laughed. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“I’m about to go put some on the ladies. Looks like they’ve rubbed themselves in oil.” He ran his hand over his thick, curly mop of hair before he tucked his arms under his head. “I wouldn’t be a good doctor if I didn’t cover them in better protection.”
“Any excuse to touch them.” I paused. “Am I right?”
I chuckled as he smiled.
The butler returned with another drink since, somehow, mine was already gone. I grabbed the new one off his tray and immediately brought it up to my lips.
“This is a marathon, remember.”
I swallowed the sip and turned to my friend. “What, are you worried about me?”
“I was watching you from the hot tub and you looked like you needed to be checked on. Practically funneling booze, flushed skin—”
“I’m hot. That’s all it is.”
He nodded, the movement causing his aviators to fall, and he pushed them high on his nose. “I don’t doubt that. But is there anything you want to talk about?”
Feelings. As if I had any.
But I didn’t because emotions were bullshit.
Because they’d been sucked out of me at a young age and I’d never let them replenish.
“Things are good, my man.” I positioned myself similarly to him, but with only one hand behind my head, the other surrounding my cocktail. “I’m here in paradise. Hooked is killing it. My dad’s healthy. How could things get any better?”
He nodded toward the school of chicks. “I’m sure your answer to that question would be to bring those six women into a bedroom and see just how creative you can get when you have that many mouths and fingers and pussies at your disposal.”
I moaned at the thought. “I like the way you think. But six is a lot, even for me.”
“How about one?”
My brows raised as I nodded toward the women. “You mean one of them?”
“Sure. Or just one in general whom you spend more than one night with and, you know, you actually develop something with her.”
“You have to be fucking shitting me.”
He reached across the small space between us, flattening his hand on my chest as if to keep me in my seat. “Don’t lose it on me. I know the mere mention of monogamy typically sends you on a shouty spiral—”
“Then why do you keep bringing it up?”
“Will you just hear me out?” When I didn’t respond, his hand moved to my bicep. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to go on double dates and vacation together as couples? Travel the world together—just the four of us, or six of us, where Easton and Drake could tag along too?”
Freddy had settled down a few months back. The motherfucker acted like he’d been married for ten years and could judge my single life when in reality this relationship—and any relationship—was new to him.
Since he’d gotten tied down, this was at least the second time he’d brought this up.
The first time, I’d ignored him.
But something was bubbling, and I was ready to fucking roar.
“Let me get this straight. You think it sounds good for the six of us to hop on Hooked’s private jet and fly off to somewhere like Ibiza, where you can spoil your girlfriend in gifts and walk hand in hand in the sunset and declare every morning when she wakes up in your arms just how much you love her.” I took a drink, still attempting to settle that unnerving feeling in my chest, but adding more booze to my bloodstream wasn’t helping. “But from where I’m sitting, you look pretty content on a boat with six women who you’re fucking salivating to touch.” I adjusted my position so I could get a better look at him.
“I didn’t say I was actually going to touch them.”
I hissed out air, shaking my head. “But you want to, and you have a goddamn hard-on just thinking about it.” I remembered the cigar I’d been searching for earlier and pulled it out of my pocket, the butler instantly appearing to light it. Once I had the tip lit, I asked Freddy, “Does your girlfriend know there are women on the boat? Or you happened to leave that bit out when you told her about the trip?” When he said nothing, I smiled. “Thought so.”
“Do you know the argument that would ensue if she knew they were on this trip with us?”
“And that’s one of the many reasons I’m not interested in the bullshit.” I blew out a mouthful of smoke. “Work is enough of a responsibility that consumes far too much of my time. I don’t need a woman who’s going to fight with me about everything and demand hours I don’t have in my day and whine when she doesn’t get her way.”
He scratched the dark patch of hair across his chest. “Because we both know you don’t understand the term compromise.”
I understood the term, all right, and I’d made an exception—for Jovana.
I’d waited for her to get off work. I’d offered to feed her and give her wine. I’d even suggested a round two since I had time before I needed to leave for work.
She was the only woman I’d ever compromised for.
That memory, that admission, made my eyes narrow, and a lie growled its way out of my mouth. “You’re right, asshole. I don’t. Ever.”
He laughed, his hands now in the air, like I was pointing a gun at him. “Just a suggestion, but it’s semi-time to start thinking about what you want. A family. Kids. You’re thirty now—you’re not getting younger.”
“You say that like I’m about to start collecting social security.” I sat up. “You and your girl can live whatever kind of life that suits you—even if that means lying about who you’re with. But don’t you worry about me. I’m just going to keep on rolling with the way things are now. There’s no reason to fuck with perfection.” I stood from my chair, looking down at him. “You knew you weren’t going to win that one.”
“When have I ever won one with you?” He lowered his glasses, showing me green eyes that were aimed right at mine. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying.”
“You do you, buddy. I’m going to do me.” I raised my glass high in the air and looked toward the hot tub where the other two guys were still soaking. Dudes who were as single as me. “Hey, motherfuckers!” I shouted in their direction. When I was sure I had their attention, their glasses lifted above their heads, waiting for my toast, I walked over to the school of women. I stood at the end of the long row of chairs and smiled at all of them. When my gaze reached the brunette whose name started with R, I waited for her face to change. For her nose to shrink, her brown eyes to turn blue, her lips to thicken.
But it didn’t happen.
What did happen was the moment she grinned at me, there was a stab in my chest and a tightness that followed.
There was only one way to make that feeling go away.
I needed to get drunker.
“To fucking bachelorhood! Who needs marriage when you can have all of this!” I yelled across the top deck, and then lowered my glass to finish the rest of my scotch.