Page 21 of Passing Ships

“Whatever do you mean?” I ask.

She glares at me suspiciously. “Don’t give me that innocent tone. He looks like he’s ready to rip something or someone into pieces.”

I shrug. “All I did was give him the best orgasm of his life,” I confess.

Her mouth drops open. “You did what? How? You’ve only been in town for eight hours,” she gasps.

“Not today. After your engagement party last year.”

Her hand covers her eyes, and she groans. “Oh my God, he’s Sebastian’s brother!”

“So?”

Her hand drops, and she glares at me. “So? I don’t want tension between you two.”

“Trust me, the tension was much worse before he fucked me into your couch,” I mutter.

Her eyes go wide. “My couch?”

I cut my eyes to her. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m sure that couch has seen lots of action,” I state.

She scoffs, then shrugs. “Maybe, but that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“The point is that you are my best friend and Lennon is my soon-to-be brother-in-law. I need you two to get along, and you don’t have the best track record at maintaining relationships.”

“First of all, we banged, and we aren’t in a relationship. Second of all, I get along with everyone, even past lovers, so don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Lennon isn’t like your other conquests.”

“And how do you know that? You barely know him yourself.”

“He just isn’t. He’s a man. A real man.”

“A real man? As opposed to all the fake men I’ve bedded?” I ask.

“Geezus, just promise me it won’t happen again,” she demands.

I glance over her shoulder to where the boys are seated by the fire.

“I wish I could, but you know how you said Sebastian does that thing with his tongue that makes you black out? Well, it must be a genetic phenomenon because I swear when he went down on me, I saw stars,” I tell her.

When a man is that good with his tongue, it cancels out, like, two red flags. Maybe three.

“I know. It’s insane, right? I mean, where did they learn how to—ew. No, I don’t want to think about that. Shit, I need a drink,” she blurts out as she heads toward the house.

“Oh, Avie, relax. I was kidding. I can handle Sebastian’s brooding big brother,” I say as I jog to catch up and wrap my arm around hers.

She doesn’t look at me.

“Come on. You know you can’t stay mad at me.”

“Yes, I can,” she grunts.

“Okay. I’ll promise to keep my distance if it will make you happy.”

“No. Well, yes. But I’m angry that you slept with him and didn’t tell me. That was months ago,” she whines.

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