“He wants to show us around later,” she said.
“That’s great, Morgan.”
“Do you want to come with us? You could bring that hottie you just met with you.”
“I don’t think I’ll be taking Kevin anywhere,” I said.
I watched Morgan’s eyes widen before she turned her back to the guy on the porch.
“Excuse me. What?”
“Finish up what you’re doing and we’ll talk,” I said.
“Oh, we’re done.”
“At least see the man out. Don’t be a bitch,” I said.
“Oh shit. You’re not joking. Okay, give me five minutes.”
I flopped down onto the edge of my bed as Morgan ushered Caine—or whoever he was—out the front door. I raked my hand through my hair as memories bombarded my mind. Our nights of passion. The first time we met. The first time we kissed.
The first time he stood me up.
“Okay,” Morgan said as she shut the door. “Kevin Kevin? The guy from college?”
“That’s the one.”
“The guy who always stood you up?” she asked. “The one with the hot friend from that bar.”
“It’s always you and the hot ‘other guy’,” I said.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said. “But… Owen was hot.”
“I hate you.”
“And Kevin’s still a pretty good-looking guy.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything? And how do you know? You were over here flirting with some piece of island ass. You didn’t even know who I was talking to.”
“I didn’t need to know who it was to know he was hot,” she said with a grin.
“Of course not.”
“Come on. Tall. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Chiseled abs with water dripping down his strong chest. Swollen arms and veins protruding from his—”
“Okay, okay. I get it. Kevin’s a good-looking man.”
“And exactly your type,” she said. “I don’t know how you kept from jumping him then and there. That’s some serious self-restraint.”
“I can’t believe he’s here,” I said.
“Want me to punch him in the dick?”
“First you wanted me to talk about how hot he apparently still is, and now you want to punch him in the dick for me?”
“All I’m saying is if you decide not to fuck
him someone here had better.”