Chapter 2 — Under The Table #4
Then she opened the door and stepped into the hallway, her voice lifting before she reached the kitchen.
"Found it, Page!"
I stayed in the laundry room long enough to button my shorts, zip them, and put both hands on the edge of the dryer until I could breathe like a man who had not just let Kiki Bishop put her hand around his cock in her parents' house.
Outside, the party continued. Music, laughter, pool splashes, the ordinary sounds of a Waverly evening.
Kiki's voice carried above it, bright and harmless.
I could picture her returning to the patio with towels over one arm, accepting praise from Caroline, maybe laughing at something Owen or Ryan said, golden and sweet and completely untouched by what had just happened.
Except I knew.
I knew what her hand felt like.
I knew how her mouth tasted.
I knew how fast my own hands had gone to her ass, her breasts, her waist, how little distance there had been between restraint and surrender once she closed the laundry-room door.
That was the part I could not ignore.
The old boundary wasn't theoretical anymore.
It wasn't an idea I could manage by looking away at the right time or hiding behind the comfort of family trust. Kiki had crossed it with her hand.
I had crossed it with mine. The only reason we had stopped was because Paige had opened the door before the rest of my judgment gave out.
I came back outside a few minutes later with my shirt straight, my face as composed as I could make it, and my body still so wound up I could feel my pulse everywhere.
Kiki was at the patio table beside Caroline, tearing a brownie in half. Owen and Ryan hovered nearby, both still watching her, both still thinking the game was theirs to play. She smiled at something Ryan said, sweet as sugar, then looked past him at me.
There was no shame in her face.
Only joy.
Tatum caught my eye from the pool steps and grinned like she knew something had happened.
Reese looked up from helping Paige with the dessert plates, honey-brown eyes soft and far too knowing.
Shay lifted her drink in a tiny salute. Penny looked away too late, mouth curved.
Eden stood near the outdoor kitchen with her phone in one hand and the calm satisfaction of a woman watching a plan advance exactly on schedule.
All six.
The thought settled cold under all the heat.
This wasn't only Kiki. Yesterday had not been six accidents. Today had not been Kiki acting alone in some burst of reckless courage. The looks from the others, the timing, the way they kept watching me watch her, all of it pointed in the same direction.
They had talked.
They had a plan.
And if I let this continue, Kiki wasn't going to be the only one pushing on the line.
I said my goodbyes before dessert turned into another excuse to stay.
Caroline tried to send cobbler with me. Mark told me to come by tomorrow if I wanted leftovers.
Cooper asked if I was bringing the boat out later in the week.
I answered all of it like a normal man, shook Owen's hand without crushing it, nodded to Ryan, and avoided looking at Kiki until the last possible second.
She stood near the patio rail, bare feet on warm stone, golden hair loose around her shoulders, blue eyes bright.
"Night, Luke," she said.
"Night, Kiki."
Her smile softened, sweet enough for anyone watching.
Her eyes dropped to the front of my shorts again.
Then she turned back to her family like she had done nothing more dangerous than help with towels.
I walked home along the lake path in the warm dark, the Bishop patio lights glowing through the trees behind me. Music followed me for a while. Laughter too. Kiki's voice rose once, bright and innocent, and my body reacted like she had touched me again.
The other guys Kiki's age hadn't made me safe.
They had made me jealous.
Kiki had made sure I understood the difference.
By the time I reached my house, I knew what I had to do.
Not with Kiki alone. With all six of them.
I needed to get them somewhere on my ground, away from their families, away from patio tables and laundry rooms and sweet public smiles that hid filthy private intent.
My house. My pool. A cookout. Something casual enough that no one would question it, controlled enough that I could finally say what needed saying.
I'd tell them the truth.
This could not happen.
Whatever they thought they were doing, whatever they had decided this summer was going to become, it needed to stop before Kiki made me cross a line I could not uncross.
It was a reasonable plan.
It was an adult plan.
It was also a plan made by a man who could still feel Kiki's hand wrapped around his cock, her mouth open under his, her breast filling his palm while her family laughed fifteen feet away.
I stood on my porch and looked back through the trees toward the Bishop lights.
For the first time all day, there was no one around to lie to except myself.
So I went inside before I had to admit I didn't want it to stop at all.