Page 12 of Midnight Confessions

A smirk plays across my lips. I’m not exactly sure what I told her last night, but not being above fucking in a public bathroom was obviously on the agenda.

“No more women is a tall order...” I lift my hand to my face and rub my thumb across my bottom lip, feigning contemplation. Her eyes follow the path my thumb makes and my smile grows. “Fine. I won’t bring women back here, and you’ll let me move some of my things into your closet. Deal?”

A victorious smile graces Winter’s face. Maybe the first time she’s smiled since we’ve met. Her warm blonde and caramel hair falls across her forehead, so she lifts her arm above her head and threads her fingers through the silky waves. It’s a shame her uptight personality softens my hard-on like a cold shower because I wouldn’t mind discovering what it’s like to unravel her.

“Deal. And you won’t call me Grimm anymore?”

“No dice.No womenisn’t a comparable compromise to closet space as it is. I’m certainly not agreeing to an addendum. If you’d like to renegotiate our terms, you’ll have to offer me something else in return. Tit for tat, Grimm.”

Her jaw tics. “What else do you want?”

“To unwrap your salty layers and demolish that chip on your shoulder with an earth-shattering screw…”

Her lips press together, probably to stop herself from drooling. And I’m pretty sure I can see a thin layer of sweat glistening on her forehead.

Then I continue, “Ifyou didn’t annoy the ever-loving fuck out of me,” I finish with a smirk.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yes, I am. We’ll discuss my terms on a later date. I need to take a shit, then run off the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed last night.” I push off the counter, heading toward the hallway to the coffin they call the second bedroom.

Mental note: Talk to someone about amending their description of this suite fromtwo luxuriously spacious rooms to one luxuriously spacious room and shack.

“Do me a solid, Grimm. Kick these two out before I’m out of the bathroom. I’ve exchanged enough unpleasantries for my taste and it’s not even nine in the morning,” I say over my shoulder, then disappear into the hallway to the sound of Winter cursing me under her breath.

A devilish smile warms my face.

Game on, Grimm. Game on.

* * *

“Have a pleasant run, Mr. Fox.”

“Thank you,” I say to the doorman, slipping a fifty-spot into his palm.

Pebbles Resort isn’t quite poppin’ with people yet because it’s midweek. But there’s a wedding this weekend, which means in two days from now this place will be crawling with tourists, anxious wedding guests, and women feeling the heavy weight of aging without having found theirforever lovelike their friend, cousin, or sister has.

I hate weddings. I hate everything about them. I hate love. It’s the biggest lie anyone ever sold. Love is only a romanticized reaction to a surge of chemicals in the brain and the mass majority of the herd bought it hook, line, and sinker.

Which is why when Preston asked me to be his best man, I nearly said no. And honestly, if he were anyone else, I would have. But Preston is the only person on this planet, save for my parents, I care enough about to endure this for. Then he dropped the Winter bomb on me. Babysit the maid of honor while she makes all the decisions regarding the wedding, while his bride-to-be helps him deal with his asshole family.

Wonderful.

But his grandmother just died, and he’s about to make the worst mistake of his life by legally binding himself to another person. He bought into the lie. I’m his lawyer so naturally I see this as a giant fucking risk. But I’m also his best friend and he’s happy. How could I make life harder for him? So, I agreed to help.

That was before I met WinterWhateverthefuckherlastnameis.

My worst fucking nightmare. Which makes it more fitting that Winter is a giant irritation in human form. Holier-than-thou, prudish, boring, tauntingly hot, but annoyingly outspoken. If the thought of babbling all of my most intimate thoughts to a stranger didn’t rake my nerves like a cheese grater to a live wire, I’d consider therapy when this is all over.

My phone vibrates just as I finish with my stretches. It’s Hayden, my brother. Naturally, I clear the call. Mostly because he’s a prick, but also because he’s a fucking prick. He can leave a message with Trent if he needs me.

Instead of giving two fucks about my shitbag of a brother, I stick my AirPods into my ears, dial Preston, then take off running toward the beach. I use the time to take deep breaths through my nose and out of my mouth, hoping the crisp morning air will wipe my shitty morning’s slate clean.

“Y’ello?” Preston sings through the phone.

I wince, squeezing my eyes shut. He’s too goddamn bubbly for my current mood. “Don’t answer the phone like a damn insurance salesman.”

“Fine. I’ll answer the phone like you always do…” He clears his throat. “This better be good. I’m about to bury my dick inside my secretary.”

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