Page 48 of Rival Desires

“Uh-huh, sure,” Nat said, nudging me with her elbow. “That’s because you’ve got the hots for Cory McCrae.”

“How many times did you bang him?” Mallory blurted out, then quickly clamped her hand over her mouth, looking like she’d just dropped an F-bomb in church. Her eyes darted to me, wide with fear, as if she’d forgotten I was her boss for a minute.

Lucky for Mallory, I wouldn’t have given a hoot even if I was stone-cold sober. “How do you count it if you do it more than once in the same night?” I quipped, eliciting a raised brow from her.

“Seriously, how many times in one night?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

Nat decided to chime in, slamming her shot glass on the bar with a triumphant grin. “Fury and I went three rounds in one night. That man’s got the staying power of a marathon runner.”

I let out a chuckle and threw in my two cents. “But seriously, the real kicker here is how many times he made you see stars. ‘Cause lots of dudes can pop off three times, easy peasy.”

Mallory burst into laughter, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Pop off? You, my bossy lady, are tipsy.”

I squinted at her. “Did you just call me bossy?”

She nodded, a grin playing on her lips. “Yep, you’re my bossy lady.”

That little comment sent us into a fit of laughter that had people staring our way. Some of those stares came from hot guys, but I couldn’t be bothered. Nat was spot on - Cory was the only guy who could get my engine revving.

Ugh, figures.

I heaved a sigh and downed another shot, feeling a bit unsteady as I swiveled on my barstool. “Last one, I promise,” I muttered to myself, not keen on the idea of passing out and leaving my fate in the hands of these two tipsy compatriots.

“You’re dodging my question, bossy lady,” Mallory piped up, her words slightly slurred. “Spill the beans - how many times did you and Cory, well, you know.”

I attempted to tally the times on my fingers, but my brain was as fuzzy as a peach, and I kept losing track. Nat chimed in, insisting that my memory lapse was due to Cory’s lackluster performance. But that wasn’t it—I could recall every single moment his hands roamed my body, his tongue traced my skin, and his, well, you know, filled me. My entire being still hummed with the memory.

“I’m just gonna ask him,” I blurted out, rummaging through my purse like a squirrel hunting for acorns. My friends watched, wide-eyed, as I fished out my phone. It took me a couple of tries to unlock it and even longer to locate his number, but I finally managed to hit the call button. I beamed as it rang. “He’sgonna dish the juicy details, and then you’re both gonna feel like goons.”

I brushed off the tiny voice in my head that whispered this might not be the wisest move. But before I could reconsider, he picked up.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Cory

She said yes!

Carson’s text left me reeling as I squinted at the screen, trying to wrap my head around it. I wasn’t exactly shocked he had popped the question to Vix or that she’d said yes - they were a match made in heaven despite their totally different backgrounds. Their love was the real deal, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes. No, it was more the gut-punch realization that my twin brother, my ride-or-die since day one, was about to become someone’s husband. We might have taken different roads in life and lived on opposite coasts, but we were still twins, joined at the hip since our mom died, and we had to face the world together.

Now, he was going to tie the knot and, before I knew it, start a family. A weird feeling, maybe a little jealousy, twisted in my gut, followed closely by a heavy dose of guilt for even thinking about raining on their parade. They deserved every bit of happiness after everything they’d been through.

Whoa, congrats, bro! You hit the jackpot with Vix - she’s one-of-a-kind.

Carson’s reply zipped in faster than a cheetah on roller skates.

There's no doubt about it, buddy. She’s the real deal. But hey, now it’s your turn on the marriage roulette.

Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming. That ship has sailed and sunk, but I’m genuinely stoked for you two.

I placed my phone on the table and grabbed the whisky that had been keeping me company for the last hour. My big brother, Brody, always ensured we had a bottle of Shannon’s Reserve. Normally, I saved it for special occasions, but after the week I’d had, I figured a little treat was in order.

And my brother getting engagedisa special occasion.

I’d barely managed fifteen minutes of peace when my phone started vibrating with an incoming call. It was late enough to send a jolt of worry through me, and the name on the screen only added to my confusion.

“Rylee?” I answered, turning on the speakerphone and wincing at the burst of laughter that blasted through the speakers.

“Nope!” she giggled. “Not me tonight. I’m someone else entirely.”

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