Twelve
June Fourth
Whitney
“Hey.”
Whitney looked up from her phone as Shianne walked in. “Where was everyone last night?”
Shianne kicked the door shut, a tote bag slung under her arm. “Oh, we went out. Me, Emma, and Brittanya.”
“For what?”
Whitney frowned. “I came home early to hang out with everyone before Emma moved out.”
Shianne’s bag slipped off her shoulder, her expression turning wary. “Uh… Emma had a bachelorette party.”
“What?”
Whitney’s screen timed out, and she set her phone aside. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
Shianne shrugged, her tone too flippant. “I don’t know. Maybe because you were with Fade.”
Whitney narrowed her eyes. Shianne was easy to read and she was definitely lying. “Do you know something?”
Her voice dropped, a subtle challenge.
Shianne gripped the strap of her bag tighter, the air between them thickening. “Uh…”
She hesitated. “Emma was… uncomfortable inviting you. Since she, uh, heard you and Fade last week.”
Her mouth pulled down in a worried grimace. “But you did not hear that from me.”
Whitney blinked. Not exactly shocking. Emma was more modest than she was, and frankly, a little boring. “What did you guys even do?”
“Bingo night. Then ice cream.”
Whitney raised an eyebrow. “I was in bed by ten. You guys must’ve been out late.”
Shianne leaned against the couch. “Yeah… Brittanya had work in the morning so we came home around ten thirty.”
Whitney was annoyed they invited the new girl. But also, considering how dull this party sounded, kind of grateful.
Shianne winced. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Well, I hope I’m still invited to the wedding. I already got her a gift.”
Whitney reached for her phone again, scrolling with exaggerated calm.
“I’m sure you are. She didn’t say anything about uninviting you, just that it made her uncomfortable.”
Whitney snorted. “Well, I’m not sorry. I was having a really good time.”
Shianne’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Sorry again.”
June Eleventh
Fade
Emma looked beautiful, not his type, but for her wedding, she looked nice. Thomas was still a lucky guy.
Sitting next to Whitney at the reception, Fade tried not to let his mind wander, but the whole event kept dredging up memories. The colors Emma had chosen reminded him of his ex’s plans. The venue was similar. Even the song they danced to reminded him of the one his ex had suggested.
He forced the thoughts away. That was over. Done.
Whitney’s hand slid onto his thigh, her fingers drifting inward to the sensitive skin there. His breath caught and then his mind shifted, imagining her in white. He didn’t think she even owned anything white. Not the kind you could really see, anyway.
She was the only woman who’d ever made him reconsider his promise to himself. Even then, he had gotten a tattoo of a sparrow breaking free from a rope on his hand, symbolizing his vow never to be tied down again.
But the wedding bliss in the air was starting to piss him off. Maybe because it made him think of how badly his own relationships had gone. His parents hadn’t even made it to the altar. His mom had married his second stepfather before she could change her last name back.
And then there was the ring. The one thing he’d brought with him to the island, the only keepsake of his biological father. His mom hadn’t wanted it and had passed it to him, suggesting he use it to propose to his ex. Luckily, his ex had been too superficial and wanted some massive, flashy rock instead. And his dumbass had happily obliged.
At least he hadn’t given her this ring. He didn’t plan on giving it to anyone. Its sole purpose now was as a reminder of his family. He didn’t know why he needed to remember them anyway.
“Hey.”
Whitney’s voice pulled him back, and he realized she was watching him closely. “You okay?”
He softened at the concern in her eyes. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you.”
She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. As perfect as she was, Fade still believed marriage was a curse in his bloodline.
June Twenty-Seventh
Whitney
“Are you sure you wanna do this?”
Murphy eyed her warily as she adjusted on the chair, her pants already pulled down to expose her bare skin.
“Yes,”
Whitney stressed, impatience in her voice. “Fade said it was okay.”
Murphy rolled his shoulders back, clearly still unsure. “Alright, man, if he’s cool with it…”
He leaned in with the needle, and Whitney grinned.
June Twenty-Eighth
Fade
“I think out of all the food places, that one’s my favorite,”
Fade said as he pulled into his apartment parking spot.
Whitney unbuckled. “What? All four of them?”
“Yep.”
He smirked, cutting the engine.
Her eyes locked onto his. “You ready for your birthday present?”
“If it’s what I think it is, then yes.”
The corner of her mouth curled. “Then let’s get inside.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
The second the bedroom door shut, Fade had her against him, their kiss deep and hungry. But then she slipped away, setting up music on the TV while she disappeared into the bathroom. God only knew what she was doing in there.
When the door finally swung open, his breath caught.
“Happy birthday!”
Whitney stepped out in dark blue lingerie, the straps hugging her curves perfectly. “I usually charge for this, but since it’s your birthday…”
She winked, her fingers tracing the ribbon on her thigh and sliding upward.
Fade watched, transfixed, as she walked toward him with slow, sultry steps, her hips ticking to the beat. She dropped to her knees, hands sliding up his thighs before she stood again, turning to face away. As she bent down, showing off the smooth curves of her legs and arching her back, something caught his eye.
A flash of red.
He reached out, fingers hooking the strap of her lingerie to the side. “What is that? Is that real?”
His thumb brushed the irritated, inked skin.
“What?”
She peered over her shoulder, all innocence — though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.
“You got my name tattooed on your ass?”
“Well, yeah.”
She shrugged, like it was no big deal. The ribbon snapped as she unhooked her garter belt, giving him a clearer view. “How else will people know this is yours when you’re done with me?”
Fade buried his face against her cheek, pressing a hot kiss there. “God, babe,”
he murmured, grinning. “That’s hot. More like ‘property of’ because I don’t see myself giving you up anytime soon.”
He pulled her down onto his lap, fingers tangling in the lace and ribbon at her front.
“And that,”
he added, voice rough, “is definitely a great birthday present.”
Her eyes gleamed. “That’s just the beginning of it.”
Whitney shifted closer, and Fade was more than ready to see what came next.