Page 40 of Covetous

“In the clutch.” Her grin doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “But our sisterhood looks different. It feels different.”

“You’re right. It has for a long time.”

“And that’s okay. We’ll take that girls’ trip one day. I promise. But I’m asking you for this favor. Please. I think a change of scenery will do Victor and me some good.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Her mask slips momentarily, a flash of something raw crossing her features before she swiftly puts it back in place, lifting her chin and wearing a brave smile. “Then I don’t know, girl.”

Her honesty hits me hard. I wanted this trip to clear my head. To escape the everyday chaos. No Ian, no Victor, no late-night worries buzzing like flies in my brain. “I’ll see if Ian is free. But what about Liv? She’s not seeing anyone.”

“I’ll see if Victor has a friend for her. His friend Smith is hot as fuck. Maybe he can come.”

Smith Manchester is gorgeous. But Liv isn’t easily swayed by a handsome face. And is she even attracted to white guys? “I hope you’re right. Because if she doesn’t go for it, we shouldn’t invite the guys.”

“She’ll be fine,” she says, all confidence. “Leave it to me.”

Chapter Thirteen

Labor Day weekend is finally here, and Cape Cod awaits us. We’ve all been anticipating this vacation—most of us, anyway. When Esme sprung the whole couples’ trip idea on Liv, she wasn’t having it. Esme had to beg Liv for two days straight, knowing that if Liv didn’t go for it, neither would I. In the end, Liv relented, but not before Esme made Victor promise Liv that Smith would behave.

“He has to be told to behave?” she’d asked. “That’s not a red flag or anything.”

It took some convincing before Ian agreed to make this a couples’ trip. Having two men vacationing with us when he won’t be able to make it down until Sunday because of his shifts at the hospital was almost enough for him to cancel the entire trip.

After the Midnight Blues incident, Ian wants me to pick a side. He told me—no, he demanded me to stay away from Victor. And I have—so far. Victor and I haven’t been alone in the same room with each other since the fiasco at Midnight Blues. And the way my heart hurts? It has me seriously worried.

I’m not a chatty person by nature, but Victor is a person this introverted girl enjoys talking to. We talk about everything—everything but our significant others. I’ve told him about my parents, particularly my experience growing up around addiction, and he’s told me about the precarious relationship with his stepfather and why he uses the distinction of “step” when talking about his stepdad and stepbrother—because the senator almost always made the distinction when introducing Victor to others.

And it’s not just the deep conversations that have me invested in our friendship. I used to be in love with him. Therein lies the problem. Because of that reason alone, I should stay away. I’m already in too deep. It shouldn’t be hard to walk away if it makes Ian uncomfortable.

“I can’t believe I let Esme and Victor talk me into this,” Liv laments as she pulls her car into our driveway behind the new car Victor leased for Esme. She’s finally wearing him down, Liv had said when Victor took Esme to the dealership to lease the brand-new Mercedes convertible. She’d wanted a Porsche, but he shot down that idea.

I reach behind me, searching blindly for my purse amid the hastily bought Target essentials. Esme stayed behind to finish packing while Liv and I went on a store run for last-minute toiletries and snacks. “I can’t believe you let them talk you into it, either.”

“Gee. That’s comforting.” The dry sarcasm in her voice is thick.

Realizing my mistake, I clarify, “I didn’t mean it like that. From what I remember, Smith’s really cool.”

Liv rolls her eyes, seeming unconvinced. “You know what they say about guys who have last names as first names.”

We gather our things from Liv’s car and make our way to the house, our arms full with shopping bags. “That they can’t be trusted?”

A smirk finds her lips. “Bingo, bitch.”

Our second trip to retrieve our shopping bags from Liv’s car is interrupted by the sudden arrival of an unfamiliar vehicle. Its engine grumbles as it comes to a stop at the curb, catching our attention.

The sight of Victor as he and Smith exit the backseat of the ride-share has my pulse racing. His T-shirt hugs his broad chest, accentuating his well-defined biceps. The shorts he’s wearing complement his muscular thighs, showcasing the length of his toned legs. And his dark hair is tucked underneath a backward baseball cap, a style that unexpectedly amplifies his glacier-blue eyes and the sharp contours of his jaw.

Liv hunches over the trunk, gathering her bags one by one, leaving me no choice but to acknowledge the guys with a wave. “Find what you’re looking for?” I tease her.

“I can’t find the—oh, here it is.” She flips me her middle finger.

I snort, fixing my face as quickly as I can since the guys are watching us as they approach.

“What’s up, ladies?” Smith’s deep voice drips with Texan charm.

“Welp, that’s everything.” After pulling out the two bags she’s had in her hand all along, Liv straightens up from the trunk and turns around. “I’m Liv.” Her gaze sweeps over Smith, her eyes subtly expanding in quiet appraisal.

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