Chapter 6

“Okay, what the hell?” Tiffany whispered harshly, her head bent toward Carissa.

“What the hell what?” Carissa feigned innocence.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Tiffany propped her hand on her hip and gave Carissa a stern look. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the guy you—”

“Shhh,” Carissa said, darting a glance at Garrett and Cory.

Thankfully, they were too busy squabbling about the movie. Danny and Jeremy had already left, so she didn’t need to worry about either of them overhearing this conversation. Still, now was not the time nor the place.

“Well?” Tiffany tapped her foot with impatience. “Is he?”

Carissa sighed. “Yes. And before you ask, no. I had no idea he was Danny’s roommate. Believe me, I’m just as shocked as you are.”

“Oh, I’m not shocked about that. I mean, I am.” She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. “I saw the looks you two were giving each other, and if you’re not careful, Danny’s going to notice, too.”

Groaning, Carissa hung her head. Talk about a nightmare. But in her defense, how could she not look at Bradley? He’d been hot last night fully dressed, and now that she’d seen him shirtless? She had to refrain from fanning her face. God, the ripped muscles on that guy. He was what wet dreams were made of.

Heat crept up her neck, and she forced her thoughts to something a lot less enticing. She snatched the box of popcorn from the counter and tore into it. “How many bags should we make?” she asked.

Tiffany made a disproving sound but didn’t call Carissa out on the sudden change of topic. “How many bags are in there?”

“Six.”

“Make them all.” Tiffany shrugged. “The guys will eat it.” She laughed.

Carissa distracted herself with microwaving the bags of popcorn while Tiffany searched for bowls. She came up empty handed.

“Hey, dingbats!” Tiffany snapped her fingers to get Garrett and Cory’s attention, and Carissa snickered. “Bowls?”

Garrett tossed the remote on the coffee table and wandered into the kitchen. “If they’re not in the cabinet near the fridge, then they probably haven’t been unpacked yet. Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Carissa said. “We’ll just have to share the bags.”

Bradley emerged from his room, and Carissa couldn’t stop herself from staring. Somehow, he managed to look even better in those gray sweats than he had in the shorts. And he certainly did those pants justice, generously filling out the important areas. She forced her attention back to her task, but not fast enough. Bradley caught her staring and winked.

He grabbed a handful of discarded napkins and tossed them into the trash from across the room.

Cory whistled. “Nice shot.”

“Thanks. I used to play ball in high school.”

Well, that explained his good physique. Carissa swallowed hard and kept her back to everyone, afraid if she turned around, her true thoughts would be written all over her face. The last thing she needed was to encourage Bradley any more than she already had.

“Me too,” Cory said. “What position did you play?”

Carissa tuned out her brother and Bradley as they talked about basketball. She knew her brother, and once he got started about sports, he’d never shut up. And she’d heard all of his stories multiple times.

But when he said, “We should shoot hoops sometime,” she twisted around. Her brother was not seriously making plans to hang out with Bradley, was he? How could her own twin be so clueless about the tension radiating between her and Bradley?

“Yeah, just let me know when and where.” Bradley nodded.

“You free tomorrow?” Cory asked.

Carissa’s ears rang, and her eyes widened with panic. He’d better not even think about it…

“Yeah, why?” Bradley continued to clean up the kitchen, taking care of the leftover pizza and disposing of the boxes.

“We always have family dinner on Sunday. You should come. We can play ball.” Cory grinned. “Garrett will be there. Bring Jeremy along, and we can play some two on two.”

At that, Bradley stopped, an empty pizza box in his hand. “What about Danny?”

Silence descended like a thick, choking fog. Carissa’s head spun, and she was suddenly hot for an entirely different reason. Cory sliced a look in her direction, his expression pleading for her to save him from his own stupidity.

“My father doesn’t like Danny, so he’s not invited,” she said coolly.

“Okay then.” Bradley disappeared onto the back porch.

Carissa jabbed her brother in the ribs hard enough to make him yelp. He moved out of her reach and rubbed his side.

“What time tomorrow?” Bradley returned without the pizza box.

“We eat promptly at one. Don’t be late. My mother will take it personally if you are,” Carissa said.

She finished making the popcorn, and Danny and Jeremy returned a few minutes later. Without a word, Danny raced upstairs. He’d gone to the store with Jeremy so he could buy condoms, which meant he was hoping for sex tonight. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, especially knowing they were in a house full of people.

“Alright,” Jeremy announced and pulled bottles of beer from the case he’d set on the kitchen island. He handed one to each person. “The rules are simple. Each time a character in the movie does something dumb, we drink. Each time someone dies, we drink. Each time someone has sex, we drink.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

“So, basically, we just drink throughout the entire movie?” Cory asked and twisted the top off his bottle. “This movie might not suck so bad after all.” That garnered him laughs from almost everyone.

Later, when Carissa had a moment alone with her brother, she was going to strangle him. The fact that she couldn’t invite her boyfriend to family dinner was bad enough, but now she had to spend the day with Bradley instead. Maybe she’d be sick tomorrow and skip out on Sunday dinner.

“Dibs on the couch,” Danny called as he came downstairs and grabbed a beer. He proceeded to said couch and sank down near the armrest, then patted the spot next to him.

Carissa curled up against his side, feet tucked beneath her, and Danny wrapped his arm around her. Bradley plopped down on the other end of the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, ankles crossed.

Her heart pounded at his close proximity, and she had no idea how she was supposed to concentrate on the movie with him sitting next to her. Her only saving grace was that she had to look past him to see the TV, which meant she could study him without anyone really noticing.

Garrett shut off all the lights in the house, and only the light from the TV illuminated the living room. She snuggled closer to Danny as the opening credits began on the screen. He dragged his fingertips over her shoulder, and she shivered.

“Cold?” Danny asked. “I can grab a blanket.”

“No, I’m okay.” She smiled up at him, and he leaned down to give her a kiss that she cut short. Normally, she didn’t have any issues with kissing him in front of people, but things were different with Bradley in the mix.

Within the first two minutes of the movie, a character was murdered. “Drink!” Jeremy declared.

Carissa took a long pull from her beer and made a face at the bitter taste. She was more a fruity drink kind of girl. Or straight up whiskey—the good, expensive stuff that she’d stolen from her father’s private stash, not the cheap crap kids her age could afford.

Half an hour into the movie, everyone was on their second beer. At this rate, she’d be too drunk to pay much attention to what was happening. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. If she drank enough, she could pass out and not have to come up with a reason not to have sex with Danny. Or she could imagine he was Bradley.

That thought made her giggle, and she clamped her lips shut.

“What’s funny?” Danny asked, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Nothing.” She cleared her throat and took another drink.

If she was a betting girl, she’d bet her entire trust fund that Bradley’s bedroom skills were just as incredible as his kissing, probably better. She lifted her bottle to her lips and snuck a glance at Bradley.

He had one arm propped on the arm of the couch, the other rested comfortably on his thigh, his bottle grasped loosely in his hand. The remnants of the black X lingered on his hand, and she clutched her bottle tighter so she wouldn’t be tempted to reach over and caress his hand.

And she knew from experience that he had very soft hands. Large hands, too, with neatly groomed nails. She’d bet her car that he knew how to use those hands really well. If she closed her eyes, she could easily picture him running his hands down the length of her body, his eyes dark and full of lust like they had been last night.

Her gaze lingered on his muscular arms, then lowered to his thick thighs and long legs. And now she was imagining him holding himself above her, his glorious bare chest taunting her, his muscles straining with the effort as he showed her exactly what he was capable of.

She bit down on her lip to stop from moaning out loud and shifted to ease the sudden ache building inside of her. Danny moved his arm to rest along the back of the couch, none the wiser to her naughty fantasy.

But when she glanced back at Bradley, he was watching her through narrowed eyes, almost as if he knew what she’d been thinking about. He arched a single brow, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing half-smile. She held his gaze, her liquid courage stealing her common sense.

“Drink!” Jeremy shouted.

Carissa tore her attention from Bradley and drained what was left of her beer. “I’m out,” she said, waving the empty bottle in the air.

“Me too,” Tiffany said.

“I need a bathroom break.” Garrett paused the movie.

“Same.” Danny stood.

“I’ll grab more beer for everyone,” Carissa said, standing. She needed to get up and move around anyway.

She wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stuck her head inside, praying she could cool off a bit. Her face felt like an inferno, and her lady parts were throbbing in a way they hadn’t in a very long time.

After a few moments, she collected seven beers and cradled them in her arms. When she straightened and turned around, she ran smack dab into Bradley’s chest and nearly dropped a few bottles.

“Need some help?” he asked, smiling down at her.

“I got it. Thanks.” She attempted to maneuver around him, but he didn’t budge. Stopping, she sighed with fake annoyance. “Do you mind?”

“Nope.” He reached behind her and closed the fridge door, leaving her no choice but to move closer to him.

The scent of his cologne surrounded her, and she flared her nostrils rather than closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, which was what she really wanted to do.

“At least let me take mine out of your hands.” He plucked a single bottle from her arms, twisted the top, and took a long pull, his gaze never wavering from hers.

She watched with a certain amount of jealous fascination as his lips closed around the mouth of the bottle. When he lowered the beer, he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, his eyes daring her to say something to him.

“You about done?” she asked, infusing as much disinterest and boredom into her tone as she could muster.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” She tilted her head with confusion.

Bradley leaned down so his mouth was near her ear, and his breath was much too warm on her already heated skin. “Done fantasizing about me?” When he straightened, he wore a self-satisfied smile.

“In your dreams.” She huffed.

“You said it.” He tipped his bottle in her direction, then turned and sauntered back into the living room.

“I also said you were a cheap pimp, remember?”

Bradley laughed. “You can’t be right all the time.” He gave a lazy one-shoulder shrug.

“That’s what you think,” she said and followed him into the living room. She eased the beer bottles onto the coffee table, reclaimed her seat, then snatched a bottle for herself.

“Feel free to prove me wrong anytime you want, sweetheart.” He propped his feet on the coffee table again.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” she said.

“You didn’t seem to mind me calling you that last night.”

In a moment of panic, she jerked around to make sure no one had heard him, but everyone was still vying for their turn in the bathroom. She eased back around. “You said you wouldn’t say anything about that,” she reminded him.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.” He shook his head. “Though, my silence can be bought. For the right price, of course.”

Her head fell back against the couch, and she groaned. “I know I’m going to regret this, but… how much?”

His smile was slow to form but devastating to her senses. “Information,” he said, pinning her with a heated stare.