Page 44 of Wild Like Us

Reaching the Jeep, I round the bumper and see Sulli straddling Banks’ back, his palms digging into gravel as he does perfect military push-ups.

Noticing me, they freeze for a second.

“Hey,” I cut in, trying to sound casual. “We have a room.” I dangle the key.

Banks goes to stand, and in a seamless maneuver, he clasps the backs of Sulli’s thighs and hoists her up higher on his back as he rises to his feet.

Her lips part with heady breath. Her arm instinctively curves around his collar. Legs tightening around his muscular waist.

Banks has Sulli secure in a piggyback.

And my heart has stopped pumping blood. Because I can’tget overhow she’s looking at him. Her eyes roam over Banks like he justmade loveto her in a motel parking lot.

A knot lodges in my throat.

Banks doesn’t have view of her face. He can’t even see her expression. Or the way she drinks in his hands that grip the bare flesh of her legs. He’s just hawkeyed on me, and slowly, he sets her feet on the ground.

For my sake.

Why does Banks have to be such a good dude? I wish he were a completebastardso I’d have reason to separate them. To protect her.

I’m just the asshole keeping them apart.

“There’s only one key?” Banks asks.

“Just one,” I nod. Coming up to Sulli, I steal the Philly baseball cap off her head and try to fit in on mine, but it’s tight.

She smiles a little, and I tell her, “Banks and I will take the floor.”

Sulli passes me and Banks, then grabs a couple sleeping bags from the trunk. “If the bed is big enough, we can all just camp out on the mattress in sleeping bags.”

Banks’ hot gaze is on me. Waiting for me to make a decision. I am the leader, and I don’t want to make a big deal out of this right now.

She pauses in my silence. “If that’s…fucking cool with you?”

I wipe all thoughts about popping cherries andSulliclean.

“Yeah, it’s cool with me.” I take the sleeping bags from her. “We’d need these anyway. Who knows what’s living in the sheets?”

She grimaces. “This is why camping is fucking superior.”

“Not a fan of motels?” Banks asks her and tosses me my backpack.

I sling it on.

“Tents are better,” she replies.

“Five-star resort hotels areevenbetter,” I pipe in.

Banks cocks his head. “You are the bougiest of the three of us.”

“Can’t disagree,” I say easily, wanting to smile. But I keep replaying the way Sulli looked at Banks.

It stays with me as we all gather the rest of our overnight things. I lock up Booger, and we make the short trek to room 4.

When I open the door, the verdict is in.

One bed.