“Ah,” Colby said, reaching out a hand and tugging Georgia to him. “I thought you’d gotten lost on your way to the bathroom.”
“No, she just picked up a stray.” Keats grabbed a soda from the fridge.
“You’re not a stray.” Colby frowned at him over Georgia’s head. He’d pulled her against him, back to front, and had his arms wrapped around her waist. Keats couldn’t decide who he was more jealous of.
Fuck. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Maybe not. But I’m definitely a third wheel.” He bumped the fridge shut. “So now that I’ve got supplies, you won’t see me for the rest of the night.”
“You don’t have to go,” Georgia offered. “We could all hang out for a while, watch a movie or something.”
“No,” Colby and Keats said simultaneously.
No way Keats was going to be some pitied hanger-on.
Georgia looked up at Colby, and he smiled down at her in a way that made Keats’s body surge with want. What he wouldn’t give to be the one taking Georgia to bed tonight, the one peeling her out of that dress.
Or the one getting those looks from Colby, his mind whispered. He shoved the errant thought aside.
“I’ve got plans for you, gorgeous. You don’t get to decide what happens next. And I assure you, what happens next doesn’t involve a movie.” He sent Keats a pointed stare. “Plus, no more free shows for Keats.”
Keats laughed, but it sounded forced to his own ears. “What? You’re selling tickets now?”
Colby smirked, challenge in his eyes. “I think the price of admission is way too high for your taste, Keats. Better get to bed.”
His throat went dry at that, but he did his best to appear unaffected by the comment. He gave a quick nod and headed straight back to his room, his heart pounding and his cock stiffening. Until this w
eek, he’d thought himself pretty hard to knock off balance. He’d lived a life on the fringe and had been exposed to more than most. But around Colby, he felt like a goddamned blushing virgin sometimes. The guy could be as laid-back and good ol’ boy as anyone he’d ever met. But when he flipped that dominant switch? Fuck. In those moments, Keats’s body didn’t seem to give a shit that Colby was a dude or that Keats was a third wheel in this scenario. It just knew that it wanted a piece of whatever Colby and Georgia had.
Fuck my life.
Keats leaned against the door, pressing his forehead against it, and tried to cool down. Long minutes passed. But before he could get his heartbeat or erection under control, he heard the first smack against skin and Georgia’s answering gasp.
He slid down the door, unzipped his jeans, and wrapped his hand around himself.
Maybe sleeping with a gun under his pillow hadn’t been so bad. Trying to sleep here was going to be an absolute fucking nightmare.
SEVENTEEN
Georgia watched Keats go with mixed feelings. Part of her had invited him to hang out for a while because she hated the thought of leaving anyone out, especially when she’d learned today how much of an outsider Keats had been growing up. But she knew that had only been a small part of her motivation. The other, bigger part had been purely selfish and seriously ill-advised.
Something had passed between her and Keats in the hallway. It’d been brief—a blink and she would’ve missed it—but there’d been a shift. He’d checked her out, which really wasn’t anything new. Keats was a natural flirt. But this time the look hadn’t been playful. It’d been all man—alpha and hungry. He’d wanted her.
And her body had clamored to attention and responded. She’d thought maybe it was because she’d already spent a slow, sensual dinner with Colby feeding her things from his fingers. Or maybe because she wore nothing beneath the stretchy material of her dress, so she was hyperaware and sensitive. But even with all that, she knew in her gut it was something more than those simple things. It wasn’t her intense attraction to Colby bleeding over onto Keats. It was something separate and maybe just as potent.
Colby was still pressed up against her from behind, and he ran his hands over her arms. “What happened out there? You both walked in looking like you’d stolen all the cookies.”
She tensed, an old reaction surfacing, defensive. “Nothing, we just bumped into each other in the hallway. Like literally. It wasn’t—”
He turned her in his arms and gave her a soft smile. “Hey, I’m not accusing you of anything. I was just curious.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Remember, I’m not that guy. Really.”
She took a breath and nodded. He was using the words that guy generally, but it fit exactly. She needed to remember it. He wasn’t Phillip. He wasn’t going to flip his shit if she glanced at another man. “We bumped into each other and he looked at me, I don’t know, like he was going to kiss me.”
Colby seemed amused. “Did you want him to?”
“No,” she said, probably too quickly. “He’s working for me.”
“But if he weren’t?”