Page 8 of Make Me Want it Too

My shirt is soaked. The black makeup stains have not gone away, in fact, they’re thriving. And there is no towel in sight. Fantastic.

I go out into the hall to look for something, anything. I open the closet door at the end of the hall in hopes of finding any type of cleaner or towel.

Instead, when I open the door, I get a view of my cousin’s ass, his pants around his thighs, Livvy’s leg wrapped around his hip, her face flushed, as he’s fucking her up against the wall.

“Oh fuck.” I close the door instantly. “Sorry, guys.”

I’ve seen way too much of Noah’s ass lately.

There’s laughing on the other side of the door, and then the unmistakable rhythmic pounding resumes.

I check the next door—no ass this time, but a stackable washer and dryer. This will do. I throw my shirt into the dryer and run it on high for five minutes. It’s not a hundred percent dry when I take it out, and the stains are here to stay, living their best life. Oh well.

By the time I get back out to the party, Macy is in the middle of the crowd with Bex, smiling and hugging and chatting with almost no indication she had been crying against my chest ten minutes ago.

I’m getting another beer.

“Where did you disappear to with Macy?”

I look up. Noah’s leaning against the wall, his tattoo-covered arms crossed.

“We weren’t fooling around in a closet, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He gives me a mischievous smile. “I know. Livvy and I were in the only closet big enough for that.”

We fist bump. “Happy for you, bro. No, she just needed some privacy. We were in the bedroom.”

He looks slowly down at my stained shirt then back up. “Spencer?”

“Spencer.”

“That dick.”

“Yep.” I can’t decide which feeling is stronger—how much I despise him for not making her happy and putting a ring on her finger already, or how happy I am that he’s an idiot for not locking her down.

Her red hair catches my eye as I glance toward the living room. I can’t help it. She always stands out to me. And I’m always subconsciously scanning for her.

And then she’s walking toward me. A grin tugs at my mouth, so wide my cheeks hurt.

“That’d be my cue.” Noah pushes off the wall with his hip, making sure I see his knowing expression as he goes.

Macy, however, is not smiling when she comes over.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask. “You need me to hide you away again?”

She stares blankly as she looks for a place to sit, not finding one. “Bex asked me to be her maid of honor.”

“That’s awesome.”

Macy nods. “They’ve already set the date. They’re getting married in three weeks.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I think I’ll take that drink now. Do you have salt and limes, for the tequila?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great, I’ll take two shots. I just need to run to the bathroom first.” She pauses as she turns. “Actually, make it four.”

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