Page 45 of Coming In Hot
The only thing at the back of my neighborhood is the pool, beside a playground. It’s odd that the pool is this packed so early in the day, but maybe people are excited about the reopening after it being closed all winter. But then…
Is that West’s Jeep?
That’s definitely Jax’s Indian.
The fuck?
I park my truck alongside Riggs’s and hop out, feeling a little thrown off. What the hell are these guys doing here? I stand there for a second, scanning the crowd. The usual suspects are scattered around the pool—West and Brandt, Rhett and Riggs, Nash, Stiles, and McCormick. It’s not packed with my neighbors, it’s packed with Bitches!
Jax presses against the black wrought-iron fence, grinning wickedly. “‘Bout time you showed. Did you bring the beer?”
I hold up the six-pack, frowning. “How’d you get into my pool?”
“Really, Pharo? Was it supposed to be hard? Your fancy-ass security is no challenge for me.”
Christ. I might as well start leaving my door unlocked as well, so I don’t inconvenience him. Why do I bother? Jax is on a first-name basis with my security guard and my neighbors, whose names I don’t even know.
Unlatching the gate, I join the guys around the pool.
“Didn’t take you long to catch up,” West grins, not even glancing up from his phone.
I shoot him a sarcastic look. “Yeah, well, the real question is, how the hell did you two get in here?”
Brandt shakes his wet head, spraying his partner with water. “You mean you didn’t invite us?” he asks, laughing.
He knows I didn’t invite them. I’m not a planner, a joiner, a participant, or a socializer. I want to be, want to enjoy myself and the easy camaraderie they share, but I always let my job isolate me. I hide behind the walls I’ve built—walls that let me do my job, but leave me standing alone when I come home.
No more.
I promised myself that I’d step out of the shadows of secrecy. Arlo said it’s time to live my damn life, not just exist. And he wasn’t wrong.
“C’mon,” Jax calls out, “don’t let the water get lonely. You’re missing out on all the fun.”
I hesitate, glancing at the pool. I’m not afunguy. Not the one who just dives in, no questions asked. But today? Today I’m gonna try it. One step at a time.
With a chuckle, I toss my shirt to the side and stretch out on a lounger beside West. Jax is splashing around, trying to wrestle a giant inflated unicorn from McCormick. The absurdity of it all doesn’t escape me.
“Careful,” McCormick cries, “you need to treat Josh with kid gloves. He’s delicate.”
Josh?Is he referring to the unicorn? With McCormick, there’s no telling.
I glance at West, who’s lounging back in his chair, grinning at the spectacle. He’s always the quiet one, but right now, his amusement is written all over his face. He’s shirtless, in just his black swim trunks, his colorful tattoos on full display, along with his prosthetic leg.
“Josh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” West chuckles, “You’ve never met Josh?”
I glance back at the absurd scene—Jax practically wrestling the inflatable unicorn like it’s some kind of prize. “Guess I missed that get-together,” I mutter, trying not to laugh.
“McCormick’s got this weird attachment to him. Don’t ask why.”
“McCormick’s attachment to weird things is a mystery to us all,” I remark, settling back in my lounger and trying to relax.
Jax climbs out of the pool, water dripping off his lean body. His dark nipples are hard points from the cold water, and his navy blue shorts are plastered to his skin, outlining… well, everything. My gaze involuntarily follows the droplets sliding down his torso, and I can’t help but feel heat rise to my face.
A playful smirk tugs at my lips, more to mask the uncomfortable stir in my stomach than anything else. “The water must be really cold,” I comment, my voice a little rougher than I intended.
Jax follows my gaze, eyes flicking downward to his wet shorts, before meeting my gaze with a wicked grin. “Freezing,” he insists, flicking his middle finger at me before reaching for a towel. His laugh is low and knowing, like he’s well aware of exactly what he’s doing.
