Page 118 of Champagne Fizz

Arie’s body coils like a snake ready to strike. It’s practically inhuman.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she hisses.

“You know exactly what that means.” Simon stares her down, his eyes getting hard behind her glasses. “You can buy out my share and I’ll walk.”

“Excuse me?!” Arie snaps.

I’m just as shocked. Did Simon just threaten to walk out on Flambé? This is his life, his livelihood, his baby. This is the one thing he cares about more than anything in the world. And didn’t he say on the beach he’d always forgive Arie, no matter what she did? And yet—

My eyebrows scrunch together, not sure I believe what’s happening right now.

Arie’s voice turns dark, coming from a guttural place in her throat. “You’re going to choose Canary Pom-Pom over—!”

“Woah now—!” Connor jumps in, physically moving himself between Simon and Arie. Both of his hands are up like he’s trying to stare down two velociraptors about to tear each other apart. “Let’s not say anything we’ll regret.”

“Oh, I think we already have,” Arie snaps, her venom-laced eyes turning sanguine. “Good thing my boyfriend used to be a lawyer, and his brother is the best attorney in Waikiki, because I’m going to make you cry with how shitty your end of this deal is going to be.”

“No!” Connor shakes his head. “Nope! None of that is happening! My brother is gettingmarriedin seventy-two hours and that’s theonlything that matters right now—to all of you.” Connor points his finger from me to Simon to Arie.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of what Simon just said,” Arie replies. “He—”

Connor grabs Arie’s hips and spins her to him. “You arenotfucking up my brother’s wedding. I love you, but that’s not negotiable!”

“He just said—”

“I heard what he said, and we’ll deal with itafterthe wedding!” Connor snarls, grabbing her ass and grinding himself against her like they’re about to start tearing off clothes. “You have a cake to make, and a two-hundred-guest wedding to cater!Thatis the only thing you’re going to care about for the next three days.”

“You’re not the boss of me!” Arie snaps back.

“Oh, I’m about to be!” Connor growls, his eyes turning dark like the two of them are about to work out this fight naked.

“Um—I’m leaving,” I announce, not wanting to witness how Connor tames the dragon. Connor grunts like that’s a good idea, before grabbing Simon with one of his fists and shoving him toward the exit.

“You—” Connor barks at Simon “—go fix this.” He points at me. “Now!”

Simon stumbles out into the hallway next to me and Connor slams the stock room door shut with a BANG! Before I have a chance to process what’s just happened, I hear cans and boxes falling over inside and what sounds like a lot of shuffling and moaning.

“Are they—?” I whisper dumbfounded, a hand coming up to my mouth in shock.

But then a bang comes against the door like a body slamming into it. It makes me stumble back as the hinges rattle and another muffled pound thwacks against the door. Then another, followed by Arie’s distinct moans of pleasure.

“Oh gosh, they are—” I turn and walk toward the exit.

Gasps and scratching echo down the corridor, and by the stars, Arie isnotquiet! It makes me clutch my itinerary folder to my chest and pick up my pace until I’m trotting down the hall, through the dining room, out of the restaurant, and into the blazing sunlight of the rooftop patio.

I can’t work with that woman! She’s insane. She’s completely off her rocker. Connor and Arie practically tore their clothes off in front of me. And Connor thinks he can control Arie? Ha! Is this what he’s going to do at the wedding if she flies off the handle? Control isnotfuzzing her in a storage closet like a barbarian. Everyone at this establishment has serious control issues!

I gulp down the hot salty air, racing to the farthest end of the patio and away from Flambé’s front door. My dress is slick with sweat and my insides have turned up to boil, because even though I’m appalled by Arie and Connor’s lewd actions, my traitorous body is turned on.

Hot angry sex in a closet. I want to fight it, but my mind is imagining Connor pinning Arie against that door and fuzzing her hard and hot in a fury of red hair and writhing bodies. And then I’m imagining it’s me with my back against the hard wood, and Simon’s the one with his pants at his ankles and his biceps rippling as he holds me up and pounds me with his incredible manhood.

I drop my folder on the patio floor and grab the metal railing that surrounds the rooftop with both hands. The rail is burning from the hot sun. The pain makes me grip tighter, letting the scorching blaze melt into my skin as I lean forward and muffle a moan against the back of my hand.

I hate this condition. I hate how it turns the most awkward of situations into a need for me to squeeze my legs together and fight off the budding heat of orgasm. I hate how the hot Hawaiian air ravages the rooftop right now, blowing under my skirt and over my thighs like a wicked breath.

The sinful image in my imagination wins: Simon pumping his hips angrily, banging out my frustrations, making me claw and gasp and meet his thrusts with my own unrestrained hip-movements. My body floods with wildfire and butterflies, shudders radiating through my core. It isn’t as intense as when Simon’s hands and mouth were on me, and rather than satisfying me, the tickle of this orgasm only makes me crave the intensity and connection of the real thing.

I lift myself up to look at the ocean. The sea and skies are clear and bright and breathtakingly blue.

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