Page 38 of Beautiful Desire
“When’s Charley getting here?” Grace asks before finishing what’s left of her drink.
“She should be getting off soon, right?” Gemma looks over at me for confirmation.
I nod. “She got off work at eight, so I’d imagine she’ll be here any minute.”
Even though we see each other all the time for various reasons, it’s nice to get out like this, with all of us, when we can let loose and have fun without any responsibilities. It’s been a while since we’ve had a true night out, especially because Gemma’s still nursing, but it was her idea to go out tonight. Rosie, my sweet little niece, has been teething for the last couple of weeks, and she said she needed an evening where she wasn’t “justa mom.”
“Is everyone at your house?” I ask Gemma. “Fletcher mentioned having a guys’ night earlier when I told him about coming out with y’all tonight.”
This is the first time Fletcher’s hanging out with the guys. He ran into Everett at the grocery store the other day, and he invited him out. It’s cute that he’s making friends here, and with men who are dating and married to my sisters—well, our sisters, I suppose—even though he won’t be here for long.
That thought bums me out more than I’d like to admit.
Shaking her head, she says, “No, they went to some sports bar in Sweetwater to watch the basketball game.”
“Why’d they go all the way over there?” Sweetwater is only a town over from us, but it has to be at least a twenty-five-minute drive.
“They went with a couple of Conway’s buddies,” Grace offers. “And the bartender is one of their girlfriends, so they’re drinking for cheap.”
“Who’s watching all the kids, then?”
“Graham.” Grace snorts, then adds, “Well, him and Megan.”
“How the hell did you get him to agree to that?” I ask. Not only did our brother and his wife just have their first baby, but he’s also never been one to babysit. Although, I have a hunch it’s more likeMeganisn’t one to babysit, so Graham doesn’t offer. She’s not really the kid type, or the spend-time-with-her-in-laws type.
“Megan’s nephew is staying with them while his parents are out of town,” Gemma says. “I think they wanted someone for him to hang out with.”
“You’re here!” Grace blurts out, a grin splitting her face. Turning my head in the direction she’s looking, I spot Charley strolling over to our table.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry for being so late.” Charley drops down in the chair between Grace and I, rolling her eyes as she says, “The freaking night person was late, so I didn’t leave work until, like, fifteen minutes ago.”
It doesn’t take long for the four of us to get carried away, yapping and laughing, like we always do when we get together, and by the time we finish our third margarita of the night, I’m feeling pretty good. My phone buzzes in my lap, and when I flip it over and see who it’s from, my heart beats a little faster.
Fletcher: You’re at High Tide?
Me: Sure am.
Fletcher: Having fun?
Me: Sure am. *cocktail emoji*
Fletcher: You’d have a whole lot more fun if I was there.
Heat rolls down my spine, spreading low in my belly as I read the insinuation in the message. Over the last week and a half, Fletcher and I have fooled around a couple of times, and to be honest, I still don’t really understand what I’m doing with him—orwhyI’m doing it—but I can’t seem to make myself stop. Aside from that day while I was on my period and I jacked him offuntil he came in my mouth, we haven’t done a whole lot. Mostly some making out and dry humping, which sounds so juvenile, butfuck, even thinking about it now is enough to make my core clench.
Just like how thinking about that day in his room makes my cheeks heat, which is rather inconvenient, considering it’s on my mind all the time. I don’t know what came over me that day, or how he was able to talk his way into my pantsagain, but I can’t deny it was hot as fuck that he didn’t give a damn that I was on my period and munched like it was his job and rent was due.
Another message comes through, pulling me from the dirty ideas swirling around in my mind.
Fletcher: Fuck, Peach. You look sexy as hell tonight.
My brows pinch with confusion.
Lifting my gaze from the phone, I scan the room that’s a whole lot more crowded than it was earlier, and as my eyes find the group of men sauntering over to our table, electricity zips through my veins. Biting the inside of my cheek as I spot my stepbrother among them, I shamelessly drag my gaze down the front of him. A red-and-black hat sits backward on his head, and he’s wearing a black hoodie that’s at least a whole size too small, with white-wash jeans snug around his beefy thighs, and a pair of red-and-white high-top Nike’s on his feet. Fletcher looks like such a douchebag frat boy, but for some sick, twisted reason, itreallyfucking does it for me.
“We’re not interrupting, are we?” Conway drawls, coming to a stop behind Grace as he squeezes her shoulders with his hands.
Looking up at him, my sister’s eyes widen as she lets out a squeal. “What the heck are y’all doing here?”
