Page 73
Story: Give You Up
“Water is good, thank you.”
“You going swimming?” I tip my head at the sliding glass door.
“My kind of swimming isn’t decent.”
“What kind is that?” I can put in a guess.
“Skinny dipping.”
Yeah, not decent at all.
“How about you?”
“Yeah, I can go for a swim naked, but only with Syn.”
“Because you two grew up together and are friends?”
I am ready to give her the truth. That Syn and I are together, and we are definitely not friends. Then I remember what I promised Syn.Disavow. I would rather shout to the world that Syn Winters is mine. Except she made a good argument. I hired her to be my PA.
Stepping over the line of professionalism makes her uncomfortable. A happy Syn is preferable to an uneasy Syn. It’s the reason I agreed to keeping the heat between us a secret. Thank fuck for getting paired to work on our sex ed class project. It’s how we’ll explain away us spending all our time together.
“Because she’s the only girl I want to see naked,” I admit.
“You’re a good friend, then.”
“I aim to be.” I leave out the word more. I amble to the fridge and grab bottled water for Blaise. I am guessing she isn’t fond of drinking. Or swimming. Syn, Dare, Syn’s friends, and Blaise’s bodyguards come down the stairs in their swimsuits and swim trunks.
Blaise’s guys are polite and respectful with the girls, keeping their gazes on the girls’ faces. Dare is a different beast altogether. He runs his greedy eyes up and down Ever’s and Arie’s lithe bodies. I have to give him credit for eyeing only those two.
He leaves my girl alone, though he did look over his shoulder on his way out of the sliding glass door and shoot me a sly grin. Whatever, man. I am not interested in Blaise, and the bastard knows it. He just likes giving me a hard time. And the thing is, I don’t mind. I can get used to his ribbing. Him ribbing on me means he likes me, and Syn’s best friend liking rather than hating me is a win in my book.
But is it enough to take our work in progress to the next level, a finished piece of work that we can write “The End” to? What is the end for us? Us together? Or us apart, our lives and priorities too different to make it work?
Only time will tell, and I have her for the next three months. Guaranteed.
27
Taron
“Ilike your friends, Pixie Dust.”
“They like you too.” She turns into me, her hair brushing my nose.
We are on her bed. It’s eleven at night, and I am not in a rush to leave her place.
“How was the heated pool? Sorry I didn’t join you.”
“Pool was good. Dare can be such a ball hog.” They played their version of water polo. That’s what Midnight said when he brought a ready-made plate of grilled vegetables for Blaise and two loaded burgers for me, as well as two hot dogs.
That guy is the bomb. Understands we guys have large appetites.
“How was your time with Blaise?”
“Good. She had me doing the heavy lifting in our convo. Asked all sorts of questions about my life. Places I’ve been to and would like to travel to. What it’s like at Stanford. What it’s like traveling with the team. My favorite place as a child. She asked a shit ton of personal questions.”
“Were you nice and answered them? Or politely say it’s none of her business?”
“Hopefully I came off that way. She can be intimidating as all get out with her two-colored eyes. She’d make a great interrogator.”
“You going swimming?” I tip my head at the sliding glass door.
“My kind of swimming isn’t decent.”
“What kind is that?” I can put in a guess.
“Skinny dipping.”
Yeah, not decent at all.
“How about you?”
“Yeah, I can go for a swim naked, but only with Syn.”
“Because you two grew up together and are friends?”
I am ready to give her the truth. That Syn and I are together, and we are definitely not friends. Then I remember what I promised Syn.Disavow. I would rather shout to the world that Syn Winters is mine. Except she made a good argument. I hired her to be my PA.
Stepping over the line of professionalism makes her uncomfortable. A happy Syn is preferable to an uneasy Syn. It’s the reason I agreed to keeping the heat between us a secret. Thank fuck for getting paired to work on our sex ed class project. It’s how we’ll explain away us spending all our time together.
“Because she’s the only girl I want to see naked,” I admit.
“You’re a good friend, then.”
“I aim to be.” I leave out the word more. I amble to the fridge and grab bottled water for Blaise. I am guessing she isn’t fond of drinking. Or swimming. Syn, Dare, Syn’s friends, and Blaise’s bodyguards come down the stairs in their swimsuits and swim trunks.
Blaise’s guys are polite and respectful with the girls, keeping their gazes on the girls’ faces. Dare is a different beast altogether. He runs his greedy eyes up and down Ever’s and Arie’s lithe bodies. I have to give him credit for eyeing only those two.
He leaves my girl alone, though he did look over his shoulder on his way out of the sliding glass door and shoot me a sly grin. Whatever, man. I am not interested in Blaise, and the bastard knows it. He just likes giving me a hard time. And the thing is, I don’t mind. I can get used to his ribbing. Him ribbing on me means he likes me, and Syn’s best friend liking rather than hating me is a win in my book.
But is it enough to take our work in progress to the next level, a finished piece of work that we can write “The End” to? What is the end for us? Us together? Or us apart, our lives and priorities too different to make it work?
Only time will tell, and I have her for the next three months. Guaranteed.
27
Taron
“Ilike your friends, Pixie Dust.”
“They like you too.” She turns into me, her hair brushing my nose.
We are on her bed. It’s eleven at night, and I am not in a rush to leave her place.
“How was the heated pool? Sorry I didn’t join you.”
“Pool was good. Dare can be such a ball hog.” They played their version of water polo. That’s what Midnight said when he brought a ready-made plate of grilled vegetables for Blaise and two loaded burgers for me, as well as two hot dogs.
That guy is the bomb. Understands we guys have large appetites.
“How was your time with Blaise?”
“Good. She had me doing the heavy lifting in our convo. Asked all sorts of questions about my life. Places I’ve been to and would like to travel to. What it’s like at Stanford. What it’s like traveling with the team. My favorite place as a child. She asked a shit ton of personal questions.”
“Were you nice and answered them? Or politely say it’s none of her business?”
“Hopefully I came off that way. She can be intimidating as all get out with her two-colored eyes. She’d make a great interrogator.”
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