Page 75 of Lucky Shot
“Good morning, my sweet Pretty Boy.”
“Holy fuck,” I mutter and listen to it over and over again. This is him. This is my Demi god. His voice is deep, probably still gruff with sleep. But the way he calls me his!
Yes, I think I so fucking desperately want to be his.
I quickly send over a voice message that probably sounds cheesy and groggy and whatever else. Then we get back to texting, though I still listen to his message no less than a dozen times over the next twenty minutes.
His brother is still visiting, so when he says he has to go for a while, I try not to pout. I really want to keep him all to myself. I don’t want to miss a single day with him. Hockey season is still two months away but when it begins, my time is going to be so much more limited. I need to soak him up while I can.
Instead of moping about all day, I get dressed and head outside, then cross the lawn to Ibis’s house. It’s early, but I swear, he sleeps on the back patio. Then again, it’s nearing eleven. I guess it’s not that early.
He’s in the pool today. The twins are with him and they’re wrestling. Loudly. Water is sloshing all over the deck and they’re going under for long enough that I begin to worry on several occasions that one of them is going to drown.
Kyst isn’t in the pool. But he’s watching with a very hard, irritated expression. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was… jealous?
I raise a brow and turn my attention back to the water. Which part of this has him jealous, exactly? Oh, I’d love to find out! All four of them insist that they’re straight. Until this moment, I’ve never had any reason to question it. But I think maybe Kyst, at least, is slightly crooked.
Bringing my hand up to hide my too-wide smile, I shift my attention between Kyst and the threesome in the pool. Behind my sunglasses, it isn’t overly obvious the way my eyes ping pong between them, but eventually, Kyst looks at me. His scowl clears up immediately.
“Hey,” he says.
I wave in the direction of the pool. “How long has this been going on?”
He rolls his eyes. “Ibis was floating in the morning sun when the twins cannon balled into him, and they’ve been doingthisever since.”
“It bothers you,” I point out.
Kyst frowns at me. “They’re going to get hurt. None of us are CPR certified.”
“True enough.”
They carry on for a while, but eventually, all three climb out and sprawl out on lounge chairs. When August (I know because his twin said his name as they climbed out and I watched like a hawk to know which twin went where) drops into the chair with Ibis, Kyst glares death at him and I decide I know exactly which part is bothering him.
Ibis and August struggle over the chair, laughing and shoving at each other until Kyst huffs loudly and gets to his feet. He storms inside, slamming the door behind him.
August stares at the door, adorably confused. I’m not sure if Ibis is completely oblivious or doesn’t care that Kyst is upset, but he just rolls his eyes.
“What’s up, hockey puck?” Ibis asks me.
“Same thing as usual. You?” I give August a pointed look before meeting Ibis’s eyes again.
Ibis shrugs. “Just another day.”
He doesn’t expand, so I push a little more. “Who you messing around with these days?”
Sighing, he crosses his arms over his chest. “No one, unfortunately. I’m too lazy to go find someone. I feel like I’ve already exhausted every interesting chick in the area. So here I am. Beating it myself.”
Do I miss the way August’s eyes drop momentarily to Ibis’s crotch? Nope. But no one else seems to notice. These boys are spending an awful lot of time together. Intentionally?
“Perhaps you can find other volunteers to help,” I suggest. He levels me with a look, and I laugh, holding my hands up. “I’m just teasing.”
The twins exchange a look.
Kyst returns a minute later and pointedly doesn’t look at anyone but me when he sits. “Want a drink?”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. How’s it going for you?”
He shrugs. “I’m bored. What do you have to entertain me?”
