“I swear. We came up with some good stuff. We were at it for hours.” At her flush, he laughed. “Sorry, bad choice of words considering. But we’re dealing with each other.”
“Good.”
He shrugged. “Not saying we’ll ever be pals, but maybe we can keep it about the music and leave the rest behind.”
“We all want the same thing. For Oblivion to rock.”
“True enough. Hey, I’m inviting a friend over tonight. Serious hot tub time.” He flashed her a crooked grin. “You should stop by earlier and we can all party together. Sound good?”
* § *
“You should stop by earlier and we can all party together. Sound good?”
From just outside the doorway, Gray heard only those two sentences, but they were more than enough. He stepped inside the kitchen and tried to keep his face impassive in spite of the cozy scene he found. Jazz wearing just a robe, her hair tumbled around her sleepy eyes and her mouth still swollen from his kisses.
And Nick was fucking naked from the waist up—and the waist down, something that became apparent when the other man stood to meet Gray’s silent challenge.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Gray asked, blinking away the haze from his mind. He’d crashed hard and slept better than he had in weeks—maybe ever—but now the light made his eyes hurt. “You’re sitting around wearing fucking dishtowels while you’re talking to my girl?” And making plans with her tonight right under my nose.
“Gray,” Jazz began, pushing aside the little snack the two of them had been sharing. “Don’t do this. Nick’s cool.”
Gray slouched against the doorway, fighting every instinct that demanded he cross the room and tug Jazz into his arms like a kid with his favorite toy. But he wouldn’t do that, because if he and Jazz were going to have a real chance, he had to trust that what was between them could withstand anything.
Even Nick freaking Crandall.
“Is he now?” Amazing that he managed to sound so calm when everything inside him was raging out of control. Just seeing Jazz with her cheeks and neck softly pink from his own stubble burn made all kinds of crazy intense protective instincts surge to the forefront.
“Yes. We were just talking. He knows about us now,” she added, somewhat unnecessarily considering her very presence in their cabin at this time of day. “It’s all good.”
Somehow he doubted that. Gray swiveled his head to give Nick a steady look. “That so?”
“Sure. It’s not like I hadn’t figured it out the first night we were here, what with all the screaming.” Smiling blandly, Nick leaned against the wraparound counter and cocked his hip, probably to show off his barely covered attributes.
“Screaming’s a bit of an overstatement,” Jazz mumbled, making a sandwich out of her cheese before popping it into her mouth.
If he had his way, she’d scream twice as loud next time to wipe the smile off that smug bastard’s face.
Gray pushed his fists into the pockets of his robe. “So what’s this about a party tonight?”
“I invited a friend over. No orgy yet, though I also invited Jazz.” Nick licked his lips. “And you, of course.”
“Sorry to get in your way, man.”
“It’s kind of a habit of yours, isn’t it?”
“Nick,” Jazz said, not looking at either of them.
Gray plastered on his own thin smile. “I think we’ll be busy tonight. Thanks but no thanks.”
“Christ, this is way too much drama before breakfast. I’m outta here,” Nick said, pushing his way past Gray into the hall.
Gray waited until Nick’s bedroom door slammed shut before he inhaled, long and slow. The residual burn in his nose made him shut his eyes.
Every step forward with Nick always resulted in two back. Not kicking the guy’s ass for openly coveting Jazz was bad enough. But knowing that he was silently—and not so silently—judging him, and waiting for him to fail so that he could swoop in and be the savior dumped even more gasoline on the fire.
Worse, he couldn’t help wondering if the reason Nick’s condemnation sliced so deep was because it echoed everything replaying on a constant loop in his head.
When he was sure he had a hold on his ragged emotions, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside Jazz. Rather than speak, he gestured for her to get on his lap. He half expected her to decline, but she sighed and folded herself against his chest, curling her small fist in the vee of his robe. Right over his heart.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, stroking her tangled hair.
“For what?”
For so much more than I can ever say. “That this is so unpleasant for you.”