Page 253 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“Uh-huh. That nothing you’re thinking of has a mighty fine ass, if I say so myself.”

It’s then that I realize I’m supposed to be mad at her. “You promised, Des.” I drag my eyes from my hands to meet hers. “I said I was going to bail if you did this, so I guess it’s time for me to leave.”

“Have I tried to fix you up with him?”

“No, but I know that’s only a matter of time.” I cross my arms over my chest and follow her gaze. He does have a fine ass.

Oh my God. What am I thinking? I can’t stare at his ass. Or notice how handsome he is. Or wonder if his hands are as strong as they appear. He was like a brother to me—my best friend—isn’t it creepy if I agree with her? He’s from memories I erased long ago.

And this is why I came into the house in the first place. All I wanted to do was have a few drinks and relax with my friends, but now my head’s all over the place—courtesy of Grant Malone.

“I swore I wouldn’t, and I intend to keep my promise.” She bumps her hip against mine. “Besides, I made your favorite for dessert, so you can’t leave yet.”

Dessert? My ears perk up at the same time I try to fight the smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Which kind?”

Her laugh fills the small space. “You like all my desserts, so does it really matter?”

“No.” I laugh. And of course, now my mind is on whether she made a lemon tart or cheesecake or . . . crap, she’s right. I’m not going anywhere. Not when her dessert is involved.

“Look, we ran into each other again, and I thought it might be nice for you guys to reconnect. What’s the harm in that? He’s obviously someone from your past. He’s obviously interested in catching up. He’s obviously drop dead attractive. He’s—”

“You’re obviously losing your mind.”

“I meant no harm by it. I promise. I wasn’t even sure he was going to show. We’re typically surrounded by all my friends, so I thought it would be cool if you had your own friend here, too.”

I eye her, knowing I can’t argue since she invited him with nothing but good intentions in mind. “Your friends are my friends,” I say exasperated.

“Exactly. He’s my friend now, too. That means I was allowed to invite him.” Her smile is smug as she expertly maneuvers me into a baseless argument.

“You’re exhausting.”

“And you love me,” she says, refilling my glass of wine.

“Most days.” I take a sip but my eyes are still fixated on Grant Malone, and my mind is still on the confusion seeing him again has created.

“All days.”

I shrug and agree. “All days.”

“Okay, well, I need to get back out there. You coming?”

“In a minute.”

“No way in hell.” Grant laughs, and I hate that everything about the sound pulls on me to pay attention when I don’t want to.

“C’mon. A bunch of us jump. We could teach you,” Leo says with more slur than conviction after whatever round of drink he’s on.

“I don’t trust anyone enough, let alone myself, to jump out of an airplane and rely on them to know the parachute is for sure going to deploy.”

Chicken.

I don’t say the word aloud, but I think it, and for some reason reverting back to sounding like a kid makes me feel a smidgen better.

“Sounds like you have trust issues,” Leo says.

“Yeah, how is that, Grant?” Desi pipes in while I just keep my head down and focus on picking at my nail polish. “You can risk your life every day doing your job, but you’re scared to skydive?”

“My partner has my back,” he states.