Page 43 of Decidedly Off Limits

You remember how when you were a kid and if someone found something belonging to you, they’d sing-song “Finders keepers, losers weepers” and that was the end of that?

Well, some women might still feel that way, even if her friend liked the same guy. Someone else might say the “rule” didn’t count if the woman was a long-time friend. The first woman to stake claim to the guy was the winner.

I’d known Holly for no more than a few weeks, so technically there was no statute of limitations—or whatever you wanted to call it—that prevented me from telling Trent how I felt about him.

But none of that was me.

And besides, I had no idea why Trent had kissed me. He might not have meant anything by it. It might have been one of those seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time moments.

Maybe he didn’t even like the kiss.

Holly looped her arm through Trent’s and winked at me.

“I’m fine,” I told him as I walked the pair to the front door.

He glanced one more time at Josh, then left with Holly. As the door closed behind them, I struggled not to envision him kissing Holly the same way he’d kissed me.

I struggled not to remember the feel of his lips against mine. And I struggled not to think about what might have happened if Darren hadn’t interrupted us.

Oh, and I might have also struggled not to think about Trent lifting me up onto the kitchen counter and taking me there.

The door had barely closed before Josh’s lips were suddenly on my neck. His lips that were nothing like Trent’s. His hand trailed down my arm. His hand that was nothing like Trent’s.

“Jesus, you taste good,” he murmured against my skin. “I can’t wait to taste your pussy.”

In my head, Trent was the one who uttered those words and my girlie parts clenched. I closed my eyes.

Then they snapped open and I jumped away from him like a kangaroo who had landed on a thumbtack.

I faked a yawn, which turned into a real one. “Looks like I’ll have to take a rain check.” A rain check with an expiry date of last year.

Mr. Kitty Whiskers let out a loud meow, ever ready to be my chaperone. Or maybe Trent had shared a brief word with him, to make sure Josh didn’t step out of line.

I wouldn’t have put it past him (or my brother) to do just that.

I giggled at the thought of either man having that conversation with my cat, confirming Trent was right. I’d drank too much wine tonight.

Josh skimmed his hand down my hip. “I bet I can wake you up.”

I laughed shortly. “I bet you can, too. But Trent’s right, I did have a lot of wine tonight.” I placed my hand on his arm and ushered him to the front door.

“You want me to leave?” His tone was that of a man who wasn’t used to having women turn him down.

The poor baby.

He stepped toward me. It wasn’t threatening. More like a kitten getting ready to pounce for the first time.

I easily darted out of the way.

“I thought you were all hot and bothered for me,” he complained, just this side of not pouting.

“Me?” I laughed. “It’s just you’re not my type.” That much was true.

He stopped moving, looking momentarily stunned. “You’re a lesbian?”

I giggled some more. “Just because a woman isn’t interested in you doesn’t mean she’s a lesbian.”

“True.” He cocked his head to the side. “So you’re really not attracted to me?”