Page 39 of Pick Six

Sorry. He’s like this sometimes.

She smiles when she sees the text.

SAINT

He’s almost as bad as you. Good thing Colton’s not here.

I’m sorry about earlier. I wasn’t thinking about us being in public.

It’s fine. We got carried away.

A soft moan escapes the woman in Tobias’s lap, loud enough that it grabs both of our attention away from our phones.

And apparently, they are too. Wow.

I smirk at my phone.

If you feel like you’re missing out…

I think I’m good.

I wouldn’t want Tobias hearing you anyway.

Why? Afraid he’d want to join in?

Over my dead fucking body would he touch her.

Wait… If I wasn’t here, what would be happening…

She sends a curious emoji followed by a devil one.

Nothing, because I’m in a committed relationship.

She looks up, bemused by the situation, and glances at me for a moment before she types her response.

Good answer.

We arrive at Tobias’s place not a moment too soon because I’m fairly fucking certain she was about to rip his pants off right in front of us and slide to her knees. At least it sounded like that’s what she was begging him for. Sitting in that close proximity to them while thinking about Saint, with her wearing the dress she has on… It’s torture, and I feel like I’m about to die from how much I fucking want her.

“I’m so tired,” she says, a small yawn escaping her as she curls her feet underneath her ass, her heels abandoned on the floorboards.

“You could just stay the night at my place.”

She shifts in her seat but doesn’t respond at first.

“It’s late already,” I add.

“I have to be at work in the morning, and I don’t have a change of clothes or anything…” She looks down at her dress, brushing her hand over the material.

“I have to get up early for a trainer session. I can get you back to your place early and you can borrow something of mine to sleep in.”

She frowns a little but then gives a halfhearted shrug.

“Sleep does sound really good right now.” She sighs. “I hope your couch is comfortable.”

I steal a glance at her. I assume that’s her way of reminding me that she doesn’t want me touching her. It’s going to be torture having her there, in my place, knowing she doesn’t want me enough to take the risks she’s worried about. But she also looks so sleepy and peaceful as she rests her head against the door, eyes half shut, that I don’t want to make her go all the way home before she gets to sleep either.

“I have a spare bedroom. You can stay there.”