“What?”
“If you think he’s so great, you should date him,” I say instead.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I flirted with him?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.
I force a careful shrug. “Why would I?”
“Interesting. In that case, maybe I will,” she whispers back and inches away from me, crossing her long legs in the process.
I shake my head and let out an annoyed sigh.
We barely arrived a minute ago, and she’s already on the prowl, ready to conquer the next male specimen we’ve come across. Maybe she’ll flirt with him to get me to ask him out on a date. Or maybe she’ll do it because she thinks I’m not interested in him. With Mandy, you never know. Unless you specify loud and clear that the guy is yours, everything is a game to her.
It sure helps that he’s handsome and not exactly the epitome of hospitality because she likes a challenge.
He probably won’t be much of a challenge for her.
And then my gaze settles on the only picture frame in the room.
It sits on top of the fireplace, mirroring the slow dance of the flames.
I can’t help that I’m drawn to it like a magnet. With a peek behind me to make sure he’s not watching us from the doorway, I head over and lift it up.
My body freezes and my eyes narrow.
Seriously, what did I expect?
CHAPTER FOUR
I inspect the radiant smiles of a loved-up couple: he’s all dark hair and brooding eyes, arms wrapped around a blonde with sun-kissed skin and blue eyes that seem to come alive through the picture.
I don’t know why, but disappointment courses through me. Jealousy rears its ugly head. The blonde is without a doubt beautiful. Her skin is glowing, her eyes shimmering. She looks young, carefree, happy. They both do.
I turn around to Mandy and hold up the frame, trying to keep my voice steady. “He’s off-limits,” I say. “He has a girlfriend. Maybe even a fiancée or a wife.”
“So what?” Mandy retorts. “You don’t know everything about men and relationships, Ava. Nothing’s ever off-limits. Besides, we’re not planning on marrying him, right? And last I checked, I saw no ring on his finger,” she whispers and turns around, signaling that the conversation’s over.
I shake my head. I know exactly what she’s planning on doing: adding another notch to her bedpost or forcing me to add one to mine. She’s had so many, it’s both impressive and time-consuming. Or tiresome. Whichever way one might want to see it. I’m not a wallflower either, but my conquests pale in comparison to hers.
“See, cheating’s where I draw the line.”
“What?” Mandy says again after catching my glare. “You can’t change a cheater, just like a leopard can’t change its spots. That’s nature.” Her tone sounds resolute, as if she’s made up her mind already.
For some reason, I’m not comfortable with Mandy chasing him, but I keep my reservations to myself. That’s another beauty of our friendship: we allow the other to make mistakes, which we call life lessons.
It’s all pretty deep and spiritual.
It’s a thing between us no one else understands.
But the more I think about her kissing him, or anyone’s lips on him for that matter, the more the thought makes me sick. Why’s that? I don’t own him. And I sure as hell shouldn’t feel disappointment at the prospect that he might be seeing someone.
But I do.
“It’s still cheating.” I put the picture frame back on the mantelpiece and join Mandy, right before Mr. Hot Guy returns with three cups of steaming liquid that smells of black tea, cane sugar, and—
“I didn’t know what you wanted, so I added a bit of rum to it,” Mr. Hot Guy says, pushing a hot mug of tea into my hands. My gaze sweeps over his fingers. No ring. No shadow. Not even the presence of a faint tan line. For some reason, relief floods through me.
As I grab the mug out of his hand, I cringe at the surge of pain shooting through my fingers, but I don’t complain, in case he changes his mind and decides to throw our unwelcome asses out after all.
“Thanks,” I mumble and follow his invitation to take a seat on the large leather sofa overlooking the fireplace.
I sink into the luxurious cushions and let my gaze slide over everything and anything but Mr. Hot Guy, who’s taken his seat opposite from me and seems to regard me with a frown lodged between his brows.
“You look familiar,” he says after taking a gulp of his beverage.
My breath hitches, and I almost choke on my drink. With a nervous glance at Mandy, I turn my eyes back to him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sure I’ve seen you before.” His gaze locks with mine in a strange battle. “I just can’t remember where. Care to refresh my memory?”