Page 38 of Blame it on the Kiss
“Feel better?” Danny asked from the living room. His laptop sat open beside him on the couch and one of those home improvement shows played on their flat screen.
“Much.” Bryce guzzled down some milk, wiped his mouth.
“Quit drinking from the carton you douche.”
Bryce ambled to the oversized chair beside the couch and sat, his douche smile firmly in place.
Danny rolled his eyes. After almost three years of living together the guy should get over it already. “If you say the word ‘cooties’ I’m going to punch you.”
“What’s up your ass tonight?”
“Nothing.”
“Maybeyoushould jack-off in the shower.” Bryce leaned back, put his feet up on the coffee table. “Really takes the edge off.”
“Do I want to know?”
“No.” Bryce didn’t want to lie to his best friend. Danny had more restraint than anyone he knew and taking things as far as he had with Honor tonight showed zero restraint. His actions also effed up his relationship with Cooper.
Danny’s phone vibrated with a text. He picked it up and read the message. A heavy-duty frown took over his expression.
“Something wrong?” Bryce asked.
“It’s Olivia. She’s upset about some stuff with work.” He double-thumbed a message back. “I think I’m going to head home this weekend to see her.”
Olivia was the unofficial fourth Musketeer. Home was the small beach town a couple hours north where he, Danny, Zane, and Olivia had grown up. Liv lived next door to Danny, but it wasn’t until sixth grade when a girl called her Chubby Livvy and Danny defended her that they all became friends. More tomboy than girlie, she’d liked to be outdoors as much as they had.
“She didn’t say anything at the wedding.”
Danny kept his phone in his hand and looked up. He’d been closest to Olivia, and felt responsible for her even when he wasn’t close by. “She hadn’t realized how bad it would get. And she didn’t want to be a downer on Zane’s big day. I’ll probably head out tomorrow. Be back Sunday night.”
A picture of Honor immediately flashed through Bryce’s mind. Naked and in his bed. Naked and in his shower. Naked and standing with her palms on the floor to ceiling window right over there. She’d love the view of the ocean and the Santa Monica pier from their high-rise condo. He’d love staring at her.
“Dammit, Bishop,” Danny said.
Bryce blinked away his impure thoughts. “What?”
“Do not screw things up with Cooper.”
It sucked having a friend who could read your mind, but the reprimand cleared his head. He couldn’t get physical with Honor again. Coop meant too much to their agency. His inconvenient attraction aside, Bryce felt a true kinship with the skateboarder. At sixteen, a car had hit Bryce while riding his bike. With traumatic breaks in both legs, doctors doubted he’d walk again without a limp. That prognosis only made him want to prove them wrong. So he had.
“I’ve got this,” Bryce said.
Danny scraped a hand over his jaw. “I’m not so sure.”
“Win or go home, right? I haven’t put everything I’ve got into this agency to blow a deal over a girl.”
“There’s the guy who swore off women.”
“He’s still here.” He’d triumphed over every setback that fate sent his way and this time would be no different.
…
Two days later, Bryce parked his car at the Los Angeles Pottery Show and hurried around to open Honor’s door. He’d almost canceled their Saturday plans, but as she continued to talk about pottery and other antiques without taking a breath he was glad he hadn’t. Her extensive knowledge of design and workmanship kept him fascinated, but listening to her uninhibited enthusiasm, he realized he’d hit on her main passion and she glowed with happiness. “You really know your stuff,” he said.
“It’s kind of my thing.” She pursed her lips and her gaze took a faraway turn, as if she’d caught herself off guard with the remark.
“We never talked price. What does someone with your vast knowledge and exceptional charisma charge?”
