Page 32 of Gin and Lava

My stomach clenches. Esme’s my best friend. It’s not like I need to keep this secret from her. In fact, I told Mason I wasn’t going to deny it if someone asked. He’s totally going to tell Connor and Ned and the truth is going to get around anyway. I was just hoping I’d have more time to enjoy this on my own, untainted by what everyone thinks about it.

My lack of answer must read as an admission, because Esme’s face scrunches into a frown.

“But why?!” she blurts out, without a filter. “Mason?”

“Wow!” I look back at her incredulously. “The judgement!”

Desmond nudges her with his nose. “That was a little judgy, babe,” he confirms.

“I’m sorry,” I say, putting my hands up in the air like I’m a criminal. “But not all of us get to dateBillionaire Heatover here.” I motion to Desmond and his out-of-this-world good looks. “Some of us have to live on planet earth and spend our time with other earthlings.”

“Is Naomi asking to have a threesome with us?” Demond asks, wrapping his arms around Esme and lifting his eyebrows up and down, giving her the universal eyebrow signal for sexy times.

“She’s not my sister, Arie,” Esme says dryly, looking at Desmond, who nips on her bottom lip playfully. “And if Naomi slept with Mason, who knows what kind of diseases she might have now.”

“We used protection!” I grumble.

“Ah ha!” Esme points her finger in my face again. “Youdidsleep with him!”

“Well,” I mumble, giving in. There’s no hiding it at this point. “There was a serious lack of single people at the wedding.”

“At the wedding maybe,” Esme replies, “but not in Hawaii.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” I quip, tossing a Beyonce-style finger at her. “You’ve lived off-island for a while now. Yes, there may be tourists a-plenty, but need you forget it’s anislandwhich means there are oceans to cross to get here.”

“Or maybe,” Desmond says, butting into the conversation, “maybe Mason is a surprisingly beautiful lover.”

Esme looks at her boyfriend like he grew an extra appendage, and not the fun one in his pants. “I realize you don’t know Mason very well, Des, but …” She shakes her head. “Need I remind you that Mason’s the one who wore a penis shirt to the wedding and is always making all those gross comments.” She says that like it should be enough evidence to banish him. Granted, before last night, I would’ve made the same assessment.

“Haveyouslept with Mason?” Desmond asks Esme, not letting this slide, to which she gives him a royal stink eye. “Exactly.” Demond turns back to me. “Was he any good?”

My face must flush hot pink, because it suddenly feels like an inferno in here. My mind shoots back to how perfectly Mason stretched me as I straddled him, and how last night broke the Richter scale for hot sex. It was so damn dirty, I think my temperature just spiked a hundred degrees from thinking about it.

“Uh, yeah,” Desmond looks at Esme with a knowing grin. “Maybe Mason can’t dress for shit, but he obviously can make a girl look like that.” He nods to my flushed face.

“Really?” Esme looks at me with disbelieving eyes. “Mason?”

“If he sucked, she’d tell us,” Desmond points out. “Being shit in bed sounds like the kind of thing you’d all add to the Mason legend. But being phenomenal in bed …” Demond makes a gesture over Esme’s head like her mind was just blown and the Earth titled on its axis.

“It was …” I say, trying to find the right words. But Desmond makes that same mind-blowing gesture at me and I can’t help but shrug. “Kinda.”

“Wow,” Esme says, still attempting to wrap her brain around this. “Okay, well, good for you.”

“Wow.” I give her a pointed look. “I don’t need a gold star.”

Desmond laughs. “No, obviously, all she needs is Mason’s golden co—”

“Don’t finish that sentence!” I point at Desmond with a steely frown. Then, I shake myself. Did I just silence Desmond Pike? TV god of women’s fantasies? “I—I can’t believe I’m even talking about this withyou.”

“Why?” Desmond asks, leaning in and suddenly using the deep voice of his character from the show. “Is it because I play a sex god with a golden cock on television?”

“Kinda,” I toss back, trying to not be affected by Desmond Pike giving me his sex voice right in front of his girlfriend. I point at Esme. “You let him talk like that to normal people?”

Esme shrugs, like she’s one-hundred-percent solid in her relationship and she doesn’t care if half the world wants to bang her boyfriend.

“I’m just a guy,” Desmond says, returning to his normal voice, and trying to level with me. “This shouldn’t be weird. I’m a regular dude. I mean, yes, I also happen to use that golden cock on your best friend over here, but …” He gestures to Esme, who slaps him playfully in the shoulder.

“Right,” I chide, pointing my fork at him. “You’re the rich, famous, movie star kind ofnormalguy. Speaking of, was it really too much to ask you to bring a hot, single, male costar along with you to this wedding? That could’ve been a thing.”

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