“I’m not the other guy.”
The irony is, he was never the other guy. From the first time we crossed that line, Dylan became the other guy. But I nod anyway, respecting what he’s saying a hell of a lot more than I respect myself at this moment.
Flynn looks down, my eyes following his to peer through the glass floor. We’re standing almost exactly over where Dylan is sitting.
“Friends?” he asks. “Can we go back to being friends?”
It feels like a heavy weight is sitting on my chest as I walk to the elevator alone. He’s right to put a stop to what shouldn’t have started to begin with. But now, I wonder, can we really go back to being friends after we’ve been through the blur and crossed the line?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Flynn
Alana Evans doesn’t shut the fuck up. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. She’s been my sister’s best friend since third grade, and basically it’s been twenty years of one long run-on sentence. I kid Becca that Laney is really Alana’s daughter, with the lack of breaths when she gets on an excited rant, but the truth is, Laney is a lot like Alana because Alana and Becca basically grew up as sisters and they’re a lot alike. Nurture trumps nature with those three.
We park in the short-term lot at Bergstrom and make our way to the terminal. I’m used to people staring now. For the past year, a lot of people have recognized me, although they weren’t sure where from right away. These days, the recognition dawns faster, sometimes instantaneously. More heads than usual turn as we pass, but it takes my conceited ass a minute to catch on why. Alana is drop-dead gorgeous. It’s not new—she didn’t grow from an ugly duckling to a beautiful swan or anything, she’s pretty much been insanely hot since third grade. Around the age of seventeen, I thought about it for a few minutes one night when we were swimming in the neighbor’s pool and she was wearing that white bikini that became translucent when she went in the water.
It was a hot July night, the stars were twinkling, my sister had fallen asleep, and the air was thick and humid around us. I’d had a few beers and my judgment was impaired, leading me to think with my teenage dick. Luckily, one thing didn’t lead to the other, and the next morning I woke to the sound of Alana’s voice rambling on from the kitchen table. I love the woman. But there’s not enough duct tape in the world.
My ears are nearly numb by the time I catch sight of Becca and Laney at baggage claim. The little pity party I’d been throwing myself for the last twenty-four or so hours abruptly comes to an end when I see Laney’s face. Her eyes grow wide and she smiles so big, I could probably count all of her little baby teeth. She charges at me, her arms open, and nearly causes an old man to fall when she whizzes past him. “Uncle Sinn! Uncle Sinn!”
My sister rolls her eyes, but smiles and greets her best friend as I haul Laney up into my arms and spin her around in the air. “Squirt! You made it.”
She squeals when I toss her around. I seriously hope she’s never too cool for this shit. Because it’s better than any medicine or high I’ve ever sought to relieve my pain.
I throw Laney’s backpack over one shoulder and carry her in one arm to greet my sister. “How was your flight?” I lean down and peck her on the cheek.
“Good. Except I think the airline might ban us. Laney talked the entire flight. To the flight attendants, the guy next to her, the people in the row behind us, in front of us.”
“Nah. I think you’re good. If they banned people for excessive talking, Alana would have been grounded years ago.”
Alana smacks my abs.
“By the way, she told everyone on the plane that her uncle was a rockstar and she was on her way to see him. I’m not sure if half the people believed her, but the teenagers a few rows up knew your name and asked if you would be at the airport.”
As if on cue, two teenage girls hesitantly walk up to us and ask for my autograph. By the time Becca and Laney’s bags pop out of the carousel, we’ve got a pretty good crowd around us. We’ll have to teach Laney about discretion some day.
Normally when I travel for gigs, I take the cheapest room. Most times, I’m out partying until the sunrise anyway, so I never saw the point of wasting money on a room I was just going to crash in for a few hours. But this time, I booked a two-bedroom suite for the few nights we’d be in Austin, so me and Laney could hang and my sister and Alana could have enough space to throw their clothes all over the floor and still walk.
Becca puts Laney down for a nap, which I’m thinking is a kick-ass idea as I eye the spot next to her little body on the king-size bed. But Alana begs me to go to the pool with her. After my over-indulgence last night, I’m not in the mood for the scorching Texas sun beating down on my head, but she’s never going to shut up if I don’t go along. So I give in sooner rather than later despite my headache, hoping to catch some Zs on a lounger at least.
I open the gate to the pool area for Alana to walk through first and follow behind her, slipping on my sunglasses and already feeling the blaze of the afternoon sun on my back.
“How’s this?” Alana asks, pointing to two open cushioned lounge chairs.
“Fine. Whatever you want,” I say, looking down. My phone just pinged with a text from Nolan. I respond and look back up just as Alana lifts her cover-up over her head. Damn. I shake my head. What a shame.
I tug the shirt off my back and set myself up on the lounger next to her. It’s only when I’m settled in that I look across the pool and see her. And him. Dylan is out cold and Lucky has sunglasses on that hide her eyes. Yet I can tell from her face that she sees me. Sees us. I offer a slight nod, which she returns, and then I set my seat all the way back so I’m lying flat. There’s no doubt where my eyes would be if I were sitting up.
“Flynn. Can you get my back with the sunscreen?” Alana waited until I settled in, of course.
“Lie on your back and you won’t need it.”
“If I lie on my back I won’t fall asleep. Which means I’ll need to keep talking to you.”
I groan. And get up. The sunscreen soaks into her skin almost as soon as I rub it on, so it doesn’t take me very long to cover her back.
“Can you do my butt?”
“If you didn’t wear half a freaking bathing suit, you wouldn’t need to put sunscreen on your ass. Seriously, half your ass cheeks are hanging out.”
“Shut up and get your hands on my butt. You know you’ve wanted to touch it for fifteen years anyway,” she teases, jiggling her butt cheeks.
Normally, I’d savor the opportunity to lather up a woman’s ass sticking out of a tiny bikini bottom. But this is Alana. It’s a great ass, but after so many years, it amounts to rubbing lotion on my sister’s.
“Done,” I announce. “Anything else before I lie down?”
She turns over. “Actually. Could we go in the pool? I’m hot.”
“You just made me rub lotion on your ass. Now you want to go for a swim?”
She unfolds from her chair and grabs my hands, pulling me to stand. “You are one pain in the ass,” I say.
“But you love me anyway. Come on. I’ll tell you all about my new job.”
Duct tape. There is not enough duct tape.
We spend the next half hour in the pool. My dark sunglasses conveniently conceal my eyes as they drift back to Lucky every few minutes. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She has to know I’m watching her, even if she can’t see my eyes. Although Alana doesn’t even seem to notice…she’s too busy babbling on about some guy at her new job.
I grit my teeth when Dylan rolls onto his side, then leans over and kisses Lucky’s belly. It’s one thing to know they’re together, a completely different thing to have to watch any intimacy between the two of them. Pool time is definitely over. I need to get the hell out of here. “This sun is kicking my ass. What do you say we get a drink at the bar and head back upstairs?”