Page 25 of Whiskey Neat

EIGHT

SALEM

I can’t believe Indy lives in this old house. I stand on the front landing, waiting for him to answer and remembering all the times my friends and I played near here when I was young. Every kid in town thought it was haunted and empty until we caught sight of the reclusive man who actually lived here. I wonder how Indy came to live here.

The door opens and my thoughts stutter to a stop like a record scratch. His hair is damp and he’s shirtless, dressed only in a pair of jeans that hang low on his hips. His chest and belly are covered in hair that looks amazingly soft. My mouth waters and my cock twitches in my jeans.

“Hi, Indy.”

“Hey. Come on in.”

I step over the threshold as he moves to the side. The inside is… well, a disaster. Dingy sheets cover the furniture, and the main room is littered with paint cans and boxes.

“I’m dying to know why you live here.”

Indy chuckles. “Ridley’s great uncle owned it and left it to him when he passed recently. Obviously, it’s seen better days. We plan to renovate it.”

“Old man Beckett was Ridley’s great uncle?”

“Yep. It looks like shit but the bones are still good. The foundation is strong and there’s only a few plumbing repairs to make. Everything else is cosmetic.”

I nod, looking up at the coffered ceilings. “It could be beautiful again.”

“Hope so. We have one of the world’s best interior designers and a top-rated contractor to make it happen.”

“How did you get a fancy designer to come to Willow Bay?”

He grins, leaning against the banister of the staircase. “It’s Lowen.”

I tilt my head. “Really?”

“Yeah. He went to Paris after we graduated and blew up over there. He was designing for celebrities, the ultra-rich, even a few massive commercial projects.”

“I’m shook. Why exactly is he here now?”

“Long story that isn’t mine to share.”

I scrunch my nose. “Eww. Tragic backstory.”

“Pretty much.” His eyes roam up and down my body before settling on my face again. “Want to go upstairs?”

“Lead the way.”

He gestures for me to follow him up the stairs, his bare feet leaving prints in the dust. Why are his feet hot? They’re sexier than they have any right to be.

“You’re all going to live here together?”

Indy nods, glancing over his shoulder as we reach the landing. “Lowen’s idea is to rearrange the space so that we all have our own bedroom suites with plenty of buffer between rooms. We’re close enough as friends that it’ll work.”

“I can’t even imagine having friends like that.”

“No one you’re close to?”

I shake my head. “I’ve always kept my distance from people. It’s just easier.”

Indy pauses, turning to face me. I’m waiting for that pity look people always get with me, but instead he nods. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

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