Page 162 of Gin and Lava

“Touch the sunburn and I’ll scream,” I warn.

Esme drops her hand. “That’s bad, Mason. Like … have you seen a doctor?”

“There’s one in that reception, stealing away the love of my life.” I nod past Esme to the string lights and reception tables that are visible through the resort windows. “How about we ask him? Oh wait, you missed the part where the lovely doctor spiked a volleyball in my face and almost broke my nose.”

“Sam is a selfish jerk,” Esme agrees, “and you don’t have to worry about him.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Naomi isn’t interested in him. Trust me on this.”

“Says the girl who lured me here with a salacious girl-on-girl kissing photo.”

“We all have our vices, Mason.” Esme gestures for me to follow her toward the twinkling lights of the back patio. “You just flaunt your vices rather publicly.”

“You’re walking me toward my biggest vice right now.” I look through the windows at the wedding guests, trying to see if I can make out blonde hair. “I’ve got to warn you, my body is trying really hard to make sure I don’t die of this sunburn. So in the interest of my medical health, please don’t walk me into a situation where I die of epidermic-arrest.”

“Epidermic arrest?” Esme stops in her tracks, and if I wasn’t part sunburnt ninja, I would’ve smacked right into her. “That’s not a real thing.”

“Ok, well whatever the technical term is for death by skin. I don’t want to die of that. Or, you know …” I look out the windows again, hoping I don’t see Naomi and Trifecta dancing.

“I can’t make any promises, Mason,” Esme admits. “But what I can say for certain is Naomi’s scared to death of hurting you again. She’s so scared, that she won’t admit to herself how much she cares about you.”

“Then maybe I should go, I mean—”

“Mason! You’re the guy who had no problem asking if you could have a threesome with me and Naomi—and you did it in front of my famous boyfriend!”

“That’s because I knew you’d sayno.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that Desmond wouldn’t punch you in the face.”

“True,” I admit.

“Right. You gambled, it paid off.” Esme walks toward the reception. “Now stop being a pansy, and pretend you have nothing to lose!”

“But I have everything to lose. This isn’t the same.”

Esme looks at me kindly. “You already did the scary part, Mason. You told her you love her.”

“And that didn’t end well.”

“So give her a second chance to work through all those messy emotions. She’s taking all sorts of risks now because of you, and even though she’s confused and scared, she’s learning to trust what she actually wants.”

“And you think she wants me?” I raise an eyebrow skeptically (fuck, even that hurts)!

“You wooed her once with dirty jokes,” Esme says with a smirk, opening the door to the reception. “Now, go do it again.”

I walk out into the reception, my stomach full of moths and butterflies and cliché things with wings. I’m probably going to regret this.

54

NAOMI

Iknow I shouldn’t compare, but the appetizer bar at this wedding is underwhelming compared to Ned and Olivia’s. Flambé knows how to make food look like a pyrotechnic mouth orgasm. Whereas this resort has gone all in on the generic shrimp cocktail and cheese trays. I settle for a meatball with a bow-tie pasta noodle toothpick-ed on top of it like a Lady Pac-Man, hoping it doesn’t taste like rubber.

“If I knew you’d deep throat my balls if I put a bow on ‘em, I would’ve wrapped my chestnuts like it was Christmas morning weeks ago.”

I spit out the meatball, half-gagging, doing something entirely un-lady-like into the napkin in my hand.

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