Page 104 of Too Safe

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand.

He rises from his seat and plants his hands wide on the table. He hangs his head for a moment, then snaps up and gives me a haughty look.

“It’s a bye week. There’s a party tomorrow night. We’ve got all the bullshit Shore Week traditions starting on Sunday.” He pins me with a glare so intense, I hold my breath. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I wanted you to myself tonight?”

Shit on a crumbly cracker.

I thought he was being intentionally obstinate. His typical alphahole self. Itching to prod at me and pick a fight.

It never even crossed my mind that he wanted to spend time together.

“Decker, I—”

Locke pokes his head out onto the deck, interrupting me. I cringe at the very idea that he may have of overheard our exchange. I have absolutely no interest in sorting through my feelings for not one, not two, but three guys who happen to be best friends and reside in the house that I’m still being sort of forced to live in. At least not yet.

“A boat just pulled up. Are we expecting company?”

“Is that her?” Decker asks, one brow cocked in question. I peek down at my phone just as the text comes in.

Hunter: The fun has arrived! Do I need to say a secret password to the grumpy dude standing on the dock?

I smile at her ridiculousness. “It’s Hunter,” I confirm.

Decker nods toward Locke. “Can you call down to the dock and tell them to let her up?”

He takes just about everything seriously. But Decker really doesn’t fuck around when it comes to privacy and security.

When Locke ducks back into the house, I watch Decker. Hunter’s given me the perfect out, and I’m going to take it for now.

I approach slowly, alarm bells blaring in my head as he tracks my movements with a predatory gaze.

With a weak smile, I wrap my hand around his bicep. “We’ll talk later,” I murmur, locking eyes with him so he knows my intentions are true. I’m beyond eager to explore things between us. But not with an audience. And not until I get my own wits about me.

He nods once, pressing his lips together, reluctantly accepting that he’s not going to get his way right now.

I give his arm a squeeze, then scurry down the deck steps and head in the direction of the beach.

I pass Hunter the drink, which she eyes skeptically.

“What is this?”

I shrug, more than a little eager to tie one on after my conversation with Decker. “It’s supposed to be a Tom Collins, but the fridge doesn’t get restocked until tomorrow, and we’re out of soda water, so technically it’s just gin and lemonade.”

She cocks one brow at me. “I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I drink. I just don’t drink at parties.”

Closing my eyes, I take a big sip, delighting in the way the sweet and sour flavors balance out the sharp woodsy taste of the gin.

“This is weird. You’re kind of freaking me out. But when in Rome…” Hunter shrugs and follows suit, taking a big swig. She gulps and practically chokes. Her eyes bug out and she tumbles into a coughing fit.

“Oh my gosh! You could have warned me! That’ssostrong! Why does it taste like Pine-Sol?”

I balk. “Have you never had gin before?”

“Maybe in, like, a jungle juice or something. What twenty-one-year-old willingly drinks gin?”

I giggle and point a finger at my own face. Then I take another drink, grateful it’s just the two of us in the kitchen. The guys are obviously trying to give us a wide berth, which I appreciate.

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