“You’d have better luck with Cherie.” Aaron tilted his head toward the pretty blonde. “She’s been making eyes at you all day.”
Trey perked up faster than a dog spotting a bone. “Really? Sweet.” The former football player left without another word and bulldozed his way across the backyard toward his target.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Aaron said when Sammy shot him a look. “Shehasbeen staring at him, but I’m not sure if it’s because she’s attracted to him or because he’s wearing the world’s loudest T-shirt.”
Sammy took in Trey’s bright red, white, and blue shirt—designed to look like a fireworks explosion—and snickered.
Now that the burgers were done, Aaron moved on to the hot dogs. The meat sizzled as it hit the grill, and mouthwatering aromas thickened the air once more. “Seriously, though. Be careful with Olivia. Last I checked, she’s got some strange voodoo magic over you.”
Sammy finished his beer. “I can handle her. Don’t worry.”
* * *
The restof the afternoon passed in a blur of food, laughter, and pool games, including a traumatizing round of Marco Polo during which a mortified Sammy accidentally groped Aaron’s aunt’s breasts while he was “it.”
He’d apologized profusely, but the woman had merely winked and made it clear she was not at all opposed to his groping—or anything else he might want to do to her.
Sammy hadn’t been able to look her in the eye since.
Thankfully, Aaron had been busy arguing with another guest about the 49ers’ prospects in the upcoming football season and had missed the entire episode. Otherwise, the incident would’ve been even more awkward, if that were possible.
As the sun sank beneath the horizon and the free-flowing alcohol worked its way through the guests’ systems, music soared, inhibitions dropped, and the singles paired up faster than animals lining up for Noah’s Ark.
When an impromptu dance party broke out, Sammy found himself squished between Cherie and—dear God—Aaron’s aunt, both of whom were drunk out of their minds.
“Are you single?” Cherie threw her arms around his neck and ground her hips against his. “You are so cute.”
“Good musculature. Nice, strong shoulders,” Aaron’s aunt—what was her name? Gail? Gwen? Something with a G and four letters—added, sounding like she was describing a horse up for auction. She rubbed his shoulders for emphasis.
With the way Cherie was grinding against him, Sammy was forced back against Gail/Gwen’s bikini-clad body, which was just so wrong. The older woman wasn’t unattractive, but he wasn’t interested—ineitherfemale.
“Ladies.” His chuckle belied his nervousness. “I’m flattered, but I’m sure there are other men here who’d appreciate your charms. Trey, for example.”
Trey would fuck anyone willing and interested, and Sammy saw him making out with Cherie in the pool earlier.
Cherie sniffed. “Forget him. He told me I’d look better as a brunette.” Judging by her tone, that amounted to a crime against humanity. “Plus, he’s busy.” She angled her head to her right.
Sammy followed her gaze, and his muscles snapped into a rigid line that sent a jolt of tension reverberating through his body.
Trey was busy, all right. Busy putting his hands all over Olivia. Smiling at her, twirling her around, bringing her in close like they were slow dancing under a star-strewn island sky instead of bumping it out to Drake at a barbecue in the San Francisco suburbs.
The worst part was, Olivia wasn’t pulling away. She was smiling back at him like sheenjoyedbeing that close to him.
If she only knew,Sammy thought savagely. If she only knew what a player Trey was, she wouldn’t loop her arms around him like that. If she only knew Trey was a mechanic and not a fancy yuppie, she’d walk away without a second thought.
There was nothing wrong with being a mechanic, but Sammy doubted it would pass muster with the status-conscious Tang family.
“Excuse me.” Sammy extricated himself from Cherie’s arms and stepped out of Aaron’s aunt’s grip. “I’ll be right back.”
Cherie pouted, but Gail/Gwen’s eyes twinkled with a message that might’ve beenGo get your girl—which would be ridiculous, because Olivia wasn’t his girl.
She was, however, his roommate, and her room was right next to his, which meant Sammy owed it to his personal sanity and quality of life to ensure he wouldn’t have to hear her and Trey having sex. Or see her crying when things with his manwhore friend eventually went south—and theyalwayswent south. Trey was a great friend, but when it came to women, he had the attention span of a goldfish.
A muscle twitched beneath Sammy’s eye as he closed in on the laughing, dancing twosome. They were so wrapped up in each other they hadn’t noticed him yet, even though he was only a few feet away.
“Did you know you could kayak under the Golden Gate Bridge?” he heard Trey say. “It’s very romantic.” His voice dripped with insinuation.
Olivia’s laugh danced in the air, and when she replied, her words carried a teasing lilt Sammy remembered all too well. “I’m sure it is.”