Page 77 of Pretty Wild

I see him nod in my peripheral vision.

After a few seconds of silence, I glance his way and say, “I’m sorry about last night.”

He turns his attention to me. “For what?”

“Well, for passing out, I suppose. I don’t remember a whole lot.”

“You fell asleep on the ride home. I carried you inside and set you on my bed. You stripped out of your clothes, so I grabbed one of my T-shirts to sleep in. The moment you were covered, you climbed beneath the sheets and passed out.”

I don’t miss the way something passes through his eyes. It’s as if something else happened, something he’s not telling me. “Was that all?”

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth curled up. “Well, you did tell me you wanted some of my big dick energy, but before you could say anything else, you were out and snoring.”

“Oh,” I reply, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks. “Sorry I passed out on you.”

He lifts his shoulders before bending down and grabbing a stick. He tosses it down the beach, and Buddy takes off at a sprint to retrieve it. “I, uh, watched your show last night.”

My entire body goes rigid with surprise. “You did?”

He nods, looking a bit sheepish. “Logan had watched it with Hallie and said something about what Vaughn did. He ended up playing it for us.”

“Us?” I ask, dreading where this was going.

“The guys.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat. Not because I was trying to hide it from any of them, but simply because I enjoyed the anonymity, the separation between that world and this one. “Okay.”

After several seconds of silence, he says, “I want to ask you about him, but I don’t think I should.”

“You can,” I reply, watching as Buddy drops the stick at Marcus’s feet. He picks it up and tosses it a second time.

Marcus remains quiet, as if thinking about what exactly he wants to ask. “Wanna head back and refill your mug? This seems like a full cup of coffee conversation.”

Smiling, I nod in agreement. “Sounds good.”

If I’m going to talk about Vaughn with Marcus, I’m definitely going to need more caffeine.

Maybe even a shot of Jack.

22

MARCUS

When we reach my cabin, I hold open the door for her to step inside. She shivers, setting her phone down on the counter and running her hand down her arm. “Here,” I say, reaching for her mug and topping it off with hot coffee. Once I pour a second cup, I go to the fridge to retrieve the coffee creamer I know she likes. I happened to spot it in her fridge one night I was over at her cabin and ended up picking up a bottle when I was at the store. I don’t know why exactly, but I’m glad I did.

“Thanks,” she replies, pouring a good amount of creamer into her mug and taking a slow sip. “So good.”

I drink a bit of my own cup of Joe, savoring the rich, heavy scent.

“Can I ask you something before we get to the other thing?”

I nod, waiting.

“Why did you have this creamer in your fridge, when I always see you drink your coffee black?”

Of course she’d find the creamer and wonder. “I bought it for you. I wanted to have some, just in case.”

She gives me a slow nod, as if she’s processing that piece of intel. Ryan walks over to the table and has a seat. She lifts one foot up, placing her heel on the edge of the chair. Even with the oversized shirt, I can still see flesh and a strip of the light purple satin panties she’s wearing.

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