Yes, that was what he’d do. He was going to drive down to Carmel and see Cassie. It was past four in the afternoon, and it wouldn’t take him more than two hours to get there. He had to go home first to shower and change, but that shouldn’t add more than forty-five minutes to the journey.
Shower and change? With a burst of surprise, he realized he wanted to spruce himself up before presenting himself to Cassie. He wanted her approval. Her appreciation. When had that happened?
Since yesterday, you idiot, a voice snarked at the back of his mind. Yesterday, when Cassie had driven him half-mad, when he’d held her in his arms, and nothing in the world mattered except her mouth, her skin, her breathless excitement, and his driving need to pleasure her. Yesterday, when he’d discovered the animal in him, the red-hot lust that had almost blinded him. The woman he’d taken for granted all these years was now torturing him. He could have had her—on the counter, over the couch, on all fours—but he’d held back at the last minute. And now for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why.
They were friends, and sex between friends always complicated things, but they could be friends with benefits. They were mature enough, and they knew each other well. He was her rebound guy, after all, and if she let him, he’d make damn sure she never thought about Russell again, except with pity.
He was striding halfway across the suite when he finally heard Hank calling after him.
“Hey, are you really ditching us?”
The guy was puce now, and glowering. Kirk paused, irritation growing. Damn it, he sure wasn’t going to jump just because Hank snapped his fingers.
“Yeah, sorry. I need to get going. I’ll call you next week.” He hurried from the private suite and joined the throngs of people leaving the stadium. The air was warm, the sunshine brilliant, the sky azure. It was a gorgeous summer day, filled with promise and hope, which spurred him on.
…
Cassie sank back in her armchair by the window of the rented weekend house, watching the sun go down while the other five girls huddled together on the couch, their makeup bags splashed over the coffee table, as they discussed some beauty vlogger or another. It was like being back at school, her sitting on her own while the popular girls, her sister included, babbled together, looking like a flock of cockatoos in their bright pastel linen dresses. Lillian was in her element, surrounded by her bevy of girlfriends, who were as mad about weddings as she was.
Cassie didn’t mind being left to daydream. She’d already spent too much time with these women with whom she had nothing in common. She was also tired of being marshaled about by Ariel, her sister’s BFF and maid of honor, who had organized the trip with military precision. It wasn’t so much that Cassie minded being told what they’d be doing every minute of the weekend, but she was tired of Ariel’s constant little digs at her.
“Hey, Cassie,” Ariel spoke up from the couch as if she’d read her mind. “You should come watch this vlogger on YouTube. You might pick up some useful tips on how to shape your eyebrows.”
Cassie’s hand tightened around the travel magazine she’d been flipping through. “I’m quite happy with my eyebrows, thanks.”
Ariel’s nose twitched. She was blond, flawlessly proportioned, and highly aware of her own perfection. “I’m sure you are, but Lillian might have other ideas. She won’t want you looking like an Angry Bird at her wedding.” She rose to her feet and advanced on Cassie with a menacing smirk on her face. “Hey girls, why don’t we do a makeover on Cassie?”
Cassie shrank back in her armchair as five women with fully laden makeup purses closed in on her. “No way. I don’t need anything done.”
“We could start with her eyebrows. They really are too much.” Ariel turned on Lillian. “How can you let your own sister walk around in public with those caterpillar eyebrows?”
Lillian shrugged and let out a nervous trill. “Oh, Cassie doesn’t care about her appearance.”
Indignation rose in Cassie. She pushed to her feet, rolling up the magazine as if to use as a defensive weapon. “No one is going anywhere near my eyebrows.”
The good thing about being six feet tall was that most women would back down from a physical confrontation with her. She wasn’t in high school anymore. She didn’t slouch her shoulders hoping no one would notice her or pick on her.
After a momentary standoff, the women backed off. Ariel snickered to the others as they turned away. “Guess we’ll have to get her when she’s asleep.”
Oh crap. Was this going to be summer camp again, when she’d woken up with a thick black moustache drawn on her in permanent marker? They wouldn’t, would they?
“All right, it’s time to get ready for dinner.” Ariel clapped her hands. “We’re leaving at seven.”
While the others rushed for their bedrooms and bathrooms, Cassie hung back. The women would be ages, whereas it wouldn’t take her more than fifteen minutes to get ready. She retreated to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. She flipped through her magazine one more time, but her attention wandered off.
What was Kirk doing right now? The game had to be over, but he was probably still hanging out with Hank Parnell and his daughter. The thought of Shawna simpering at Kirk made her lips tighten, even though Kirk wasn’t the least bit interested in her.
Cassie sighed. She really had it bad for Kirk. Especially after last night. Warmth flowed through her veins as she relived his hands roving over her body and his erection pressing between her thighs. What would have happened if he hadn’t stopped?
She fanned her flushed cheeks with her magazine. She missed him so much. He was dangerous to her heart and her peace of mind, but there was no one she’d rather be with. He made her heart soar just by walking into a room. The evening ahead and the next day stretched out before her like a desert. She was exhausted trying to fit in with Lillian’s friends, faking interest in their shopping and gossip. Tonight promised to be a trial, too. After dinner they were going to hit a few bars and night clubs. From a few whispers she’d overheard, Ariel had organized a male stripper, who was going to pop out when they least expected it. That could either be awkward or disturbing, because Cassie wasn’t sure her sister was into male strippers.
At that moment, Lillian appeared in the kitchen, already dressed in a tight mini-skirt and silk shirt. “Why haven’t you changed?” She threw a scathing glance at Cassie’s jeans and tank top. “You’re not going to dinner in that, are you?”
“Why not?” Cassie flicked her fingers provocatively, though she had brought a little black dress for the occasion.
“Oh, you’re impossible. All day you’ve been a drag. You could at least make an effort, seeing as I invited you.”
Guilt throbbed in Cassie. “Sorry. I did bring something to wear. It won’t take me long to change.”
Lillian followed her into the bedroom where she grimaced at the plain black dress Cassie held up for her inspection. “Not exactly fun, but at least it’s a dress.”
Cassie began to strip off her clothes, while Lillian peered into the mirror and pulled out her makeup purse to do some further work on her face.
“I’m glad you invited me,” Cassie said as she reached for the dress and pulled it over her head. “And I’m glad you asked me to be a bridesmaid.”
“You should be,” Lillian muttered. “Ariel and I almost had a fight over you.”
“What?” Cassie yanked the dress into place. “It’s not up to her who you choose as bridesmaids.”
Lillian shrugged, her attention focused on her mascara. “We’re old friends.”
“She’s a bully. She’s just like the ones who made my life a misery in high school. You saw her earlier when she hassled me about my eyebrows.”
“Oh, she was teasing you. Can’t you take a joke?”
Cassie pressed a hand to her stomach. Some things never changed. Like her sister taking the side of Cassie’s tormentor. Lillian was still fussing at the mirror, dabbing and swiping, unaware of the hurt she’d caused Cassie.
A sudden commotion from the living room made both of them look up. The girls squealed with excitement, sounding like a pack of preteens at a boy band concert. A muffled male voice murmured something, and someone let out a piercing wolf whistle.
Lillian dropped her mirror. “Oh no. Don’t tell me it’s a male stripper.”
“Yeah, sounds like it.” Cassie glanced curiously at her sister. “You weren’t expecting it?”
Lillian’s hand was clenched tight around her mascara wand. “I specifically told Ariel I didn’t want a stripper. I can’t believe she went ahead and ignored me.”
“Why don’t you walk out there and tell the guy to go? And if Ariel still has to pay him, sucks to be her.”
“Oh no, I can’t do that. She’d be furious.” Lillian stood, her expression strained, as hurried footsteps approached the bedroom. “I’ll have to grin and bear it.”
Cassie blinked at her sister. Wow, did Lillian go along with Ariel’s bullshit just to fit in? So she wouldn’t be bullied, ostracized? Maybe that pattern of behavior had started back in high school. Maybe Lillian, terrified she’d be treated like Cassie, had decided the best form of protection was to join the mean girls club.