Sure enough, Jase’s words are practically growled, that grin of his still just as promising. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk away from me in that dress, love.”
An unspoken rulefor hooking up at an establishment like this is that each member of the participating party should exit the room at different times so as not to arouse suspicion. Jase, however, pays no heed to such tradition, and I’m not about to argue. Before we’ve even made it out to the terrace, he has my legs wrapped around his waist as his hands grip the base of my thighs.
The sun hasn’t set just yet, but with the overcast, it may as well have. The terrace is dark, quiet, and—best of all—vacant. At least, that’s what we think as Jase carries me down the stone steps to the courtyard overlooking the river. Not until he starts making his way to the alcove do I see something out of my periphery. Or rather,someones.Twosilhouettes stand against the side of the building, and only when I turn to look at them directly do I realize that Jase and I weren’t the only ones coming out here with a certain intent.
Thankfully, both parties appear to have only gotten to second base thus far, but it’s still awkward when one of the two men catches sight of Jase and me not a heartbeat later.
A collective chorus of “Shit” circulates around the courtyard as everyone disentangles themselves from their partners. Even in the limited light, I can see a hint of a blush from the guy who had been pressed up against the wall by the other male, likely because he’s wearing the trademark uniform reserved for the waiting staff. Odds are that he’s still on the clock.
Since Jase and I are the party crashers this time, we both excuse ourselves and begin making our way back to the staircase when the other guy, who had been facing the wall, turns to look at us.
My heart double steps becausewhat the fuck?
It’s Luke.
As in mysister’sboyfriend.
I may not have the best relationship with Vanessa anymore, but I know her well enough that she wouldn’t have a problem dating someone who’s bi.
A cheater, on the other hand?
Not a snowball’s chance in Hell.
I’d be inclined to think that maybe they’re a throuple, if not for the fact that Luke looks guilty as shit and feels compelled to “explain” himself.
I’m not the type to insert myself into drama that doesn’t involve me, but I also feel an obligation to tell someone if their partner is cheating on them.
I draw up short, however, when Luke blurts, “Please talk to your sister. Just…don’t tell anyone else.”
Seriously, what the hell?
If he’s that concerned about preserving his reputation, shouldn’t he know his scorned partner would be the first to tell everyone what he did?
Even stranger, the waiter he was just making out with mutters about how he needs to get back to work beforekissingLuke again and calling him “hun”.
“Is my sister your, uh…beard?” I ask tentatively. It’s the only thing that could make sense, but the question only leaves Luke looking even more uncomfortable.
“Not exactly.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I guess you could say I’mherbeard.”
And that makes even less sense.
Vanessa has only ever dated men, and even if she did start going out with women, who would care? My dad and Blythe wouldn’t have a problem with it, nor would anyone else we know.
I say as much, but Luke shakes his head.
“Vanessa’s only attracted to men, as far as I know. Our arrangement is more of a…security issue.”
To say I’m lost would be putting it kindly. Jase, on the other hand, is following along just fine. He doesn’t so much as blink, motioning to me, “Is this because I’m staying at their house?”
Jase suddenly looks a little sheepish when I shoot him a look.
“Your sister’s the one who locked me out of the house the night I had to come through your window. And it’s not the last time she’s done it, either. I checked your home security footage. She puts the deadlatches on all the doors every night after everyone goes to bed.”
I’m about to argue it isn’t that strange, not to mention ineffective, seeing as how Jase is already stayinginsidethe house and not camping out in the backyard, but he beats me to the punch.
“She also doesn’t sleep in her own room. After everyone goes to bed, she locks herself inside the small guest room next to your dad’s office.”
And it’s also an interior room, so there aren’t any windows, but now that he mentions it… “I doubt it has to do with you. I noticed Vanessa leaving the guest room with a blanket and pillow a few times last summer. She just said bees kept getting in her bedroom.”
