Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

“Your girlfriend is sleeping on my beach,” a very deep voice drawls. I’ve heard that voice in my dreams, my fantasies, and my nightmares. I’m not sure which one this is.

My beach . I nearly snort. As if. He doesn’t own this beach.

“I don’t know how she ended up in my backyard.”

Ah. His beach. His backyard. So, he’s the buyer of the Wilson house. Shit.

I’m feigning sleep. It’s hard to do when I’m so giddy about not being hungover. Not even the headache I’d been dreading. Clean ocean air for the win.

“I don’t care, Cal, come get her. Now.”

Oh boy. He sounds less than thrilled to see me loafing around on his lounger. You’d act like he’d found me in his bed. Now the thought is in my head, I want to play it out just to see his reaction. Maybe not. He might set the damn thing on fire. For as much as he despises me, you’d think I was the devil incarnate.

“Fuck that. I’m not getting involved in your bullshit. You’ve got ten minutes to collect your misplaced girlfriend and then I’m calling the sheriff.”

That wouldn’t go over well at all. My parents just down the road. Me being hauled away in handcuffs by the sheriff. It’s like my teenage years all over again.

“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” He hangs up the phone and curses under his breath. It’s pretty creative. “I know you’re awake.”

I sit up and cut him a glare. “How could you possibly know I was awake? My breathing didn’t even pick up!” I faked enough in high school before sneaking out at night that I perfected this bit.

“Your toes were wiggling. I don’t know what you’re so excited about. I could have you throw in jail.” He folds his arms across his—holy mother—bare chest. His very muscular, very tattooed chest. I wish I'd get to see those tattoos up close, but it's not in the cards for me. It makes me want to whimper. Rome and Cal exercise regularly and both of them have bodies of the gods. He smirks when he catches me checking him out. What does he expect a red-blooded woman to do when a man who looks as fine as he does stands there in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not excited.”

He stares. “It’s your tell.”

I don’t reply. I don’t have a tell! At least I didn’t think so. Has he been... watching me? If only.

I start folding his towel for him, then notice the water isn’t lapping nearly as close to the chair as last night. I wonder if he sleeps out here. It’s a magical thing sleeping under the stars.

He steps up and grabs the towel before I’ve finished folding it.

“Hey!”

“Don’t bother. Now I’ve got to wash it.”

“Are you kidding? Because I covered up with it? What’s the difference between hanging on your porch railing or draping over me while I sleep?” I snark, truly and utterly insulted. “I don’t stink. We’re not in grade school so you clearly know I don’t have cooties.” I slip on my sandals.

“Get over yourself, Miller. I don’t like people touching my things,” he replies, avoiding looking at me as much as possible.

“You still act as if we’re in second grade and I threw the basketball back to you on the playground. Do you remember what you did?” I ask, standing up and straightening my back as well as my hackles.

“Nope. Can’t say as I think about you at all.” That fucking smirk. Oh, how I’d love to slap it off of his beautiful face.

“You got so offended by my doing you a solid, you threw the basketball back at me as hard as you could and hit me in the face. You broke my nose, you freakishly strong bully asshole!”

Callum stands on the deck, hands on his hips, shaking his head. “I remember that. Brutal, bro.”

“Whose side are you on?” Rome asks as he slides his fingers through his bed-mussed hair. If my wishes amounted to anything, just once those would be my fingers.

“I don’t choose sides,” Cal reminds him.

“Seems like you do,” Rome taunts, “seeing as you’re fucking her and all.”

Callum looks heavenward while I lose my shit.

“What fucking business is it of yours anyway?”

“Not my business. Just point out sides... or insides as it were.” He smiles, all proud of himself.

I sneer. “You’re a disgusting neanderthal.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass. I should’ve called the sheriff. Hell, I should’ve called your mother.” With that, he smirks and holds up his phone.

“Do it and I’ll castrate you in your sleep.” He is a very heavy sleeper, not that I’d go anywhere near his balls or dick with a knife. My vagina, however...

“Christ. Will you two stop?” Callum scolds.

“He started it,” I say at the same time as Rome blames me.

Callum nods. “I’m sure that’s true on both accounts.”

I don’t know why he puts up with us. He’s always been the mediator. The one to calm things down when they get out of hand, much like they’re quickly doing right now.

I can feel my temper calming, though. It was really starting to flare. It’s not pretty when it does. I turn into a flaming bitch and say so many things I don’t mean. So many things. So does Rome. The difference is, I feel guilty about them afterward.

“Will you just take her and go?” Rome asks.

“Take her and go,” I say, imitating a caveman.

“Let’s go, Beth,” Callum coaxes.

“Why should I go with you again?” I ask, tilting my head. “I mean, you left me out here in the dark, by myself, where anything could have happened to me.” It's not a total lie.

Rome chuckles. Asshole. He couldn't have given me this tiny moment of pride?

“Beth, I dropped you at your parent’s front door. You couldn’t have been safer,” Callum explains.

“That’s what you think. You don’t know the ‘rents in cases like this.”

“Oh, I know all too well what happens in cases like this, which is why I thought it was the perfect place for you.”

I gasp. “How dare you! You want my parents to control me? Seriously? They’d probably have locked me up in my room. Again!”

“And you’d have climbed out the window,” Rome retorts, "again."

I cut him a glare before looking back to Cal.

“Are you really on their side? Do you want me to somehow trick Rome into marrying me so I can get my inheritance? I thought you wanted me all to yourself.”

Rome turns his back but I can see his shoulders shaking.

Callum gapes at me.

“None. Of. This. Is. Funny!”

Rome turns around, his eyes dancing with mirth, his face red from laughing. “Trick me into marrying you?”

“You know the deal.” I look down, toeing the sand.

“That your mother has lost her mind?” he asks.

I look at him, unsure but I nod anyway.

He nods in return. “Oh yeah, I know. I regret buying a house so close to them because that woman finds excuses all the damn time to come,” he makes air quotes, “ have a chat .”

I feel the blush of embarrassment flood me.

“God!” I shout, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

“No, just Rome.”

I sneer. “Oh, that arrogance knows no bounds. Callum, will you please take me home. I’m suddenly feeling atheist.”

Rome bursts out laughing, one of those that takes over your whole body and face, and it’s beautiful, even if he’s a dick. His black curly hair just this side of too long blowing in the breeze. Those gorgeous chest and ab muscles bunching as he continues to laugh. Arms the size of thighs. Thighs the size of tree trunks. It's no wonder he's one of the most in-demand and lusted after professional football players.

Callum hides his chuckle poorly.

“If I didn’t need the ride, I’d kick you in the balls out of spite.”

“I’m the good guy. The one you’re supposed to be nice to,” he reminds me as he walks me around the house then opens the car door for me. I duck in quickly hoping to escape before my mother sees me. As if this morning could be worse.

Well, it could. I could be hungover. Again, fresh ocean air for the win.

I put the seatbelt on and nod. “You’re right. I apologize.” I mean it, too. He is the nice guy. He is the one I should be head over heels in love with… and I am, I think. Is it possible to love two people in two completely different ways?

He nods and closes the door.

Did he just answer my unasked question?