I couldn’t help but smile a bit at his miffed tone regarding tennis. Yates had lost to me every single time we’d played, and every single time his reaction was better than the last. My heart squeezed with a bit of affection thinking about last night, and the night before that after we’d gotten into what now felt like a stupid arguement.
Yates had always been overprotective, so it didn’t surprise me he was pushing me to open up—I just didn’t want to burden him with what Iknewwould devastate him. He was an ass… but he was possiblymyass. At least that was what it felt like when I was in his arms. I found it harder to stay ‘mad’ at him the more time we spent together.
I would still take pleasure in him being bitter over his awful tennis game. He was good enough at literally everything else, he could deal.
This morning, Yates was dressed in a similar outfit to Dermot and most of my guys, but he also had the addition of his sunglasses that laid on a band around his neck. I nibbled my lip, realizing that I’d also gotten him those. It was possible I had a problem…
We had a lot of Christmas and birthday celebrations to account for! I actually had a running list of things the boys brought up on a whim for ideas when either event came to pass. It was why I’d been so excited about these Ray-Bans. They had sold out in less than twenty-four hours around Christmas, so when I’d given them to him for his birthday this past spring, he’d been legitimately surprised and thrilled.
“Is it true? Are you trying to hustle me?” Dermot chuckled, offering me an arched brow.
“Never.” I offered a cheeky smile, my gaze moving past both of them to where Kingston stood talking to his father and mine. You would never guess what had happened the night before by the way they were acting, but I knew King for sure hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, I had a feeling that this wasn’t over by a long shot.
Mr. Ross laughed at something King said, and I watched the two of them curiously, realizing just how similar they looked, but with about a twenty-something age gap. I would give Mr. Ross this—the man had aged well. I could literally see what Kingston would look like at that age, and I couldn’t lie, it was attractive. If we were even friends then…
Shaking myself from thoughts of the future, I moved my gaze to Lincoln and Sterling, who stood with Mr. Gates and Mr. Carter, seemingly having a somewhat serious conversation.
“Last one!” Kingston called out, walking around the cart and sliding next to me. I patted the bench and Dermot slid on, the twins jumping on the back as Yates stood with a foot on the cart while gripping the roof. There were probably way too many people on this thing, but who the heck was going to tell us no?
“I’m a bit sleepy,” I admitted, stretching my arms above my head as Dermot cleared his throat, sounding like he was covering a groan. I arched a brow, but he was already getting out as Kingston came to a stop, chuckling softly. Why was me being sleepy funny?
King pressed a gentle kiss to my jaw instead of my cheek or temple as he smoothed a thumb over it, a surprising gesture that had me looking over at him. Any previous amusement was gone as his eyes traced the very light bruising there before he exhaled sharply and then hopped out, seemingly back to his upbeat, smiling self.
Confusing man.
“How are you holding up, honey?” My mom’s voice came behind me as she got out of her cart and came to stand next to me.
“Good.” I raised up my plastic champagne glass as she tapped hers with mine in a ‘cheers’ motion that had me smiling. I could tell she was a bit tipsy, and I was glad to see the group of them having so much fun. I was tempted to grab my camera from underneath the bench, but I hadn’t been lying—I was exhausted.
“You know, the ladies and I were talking, and I think we’re going to take that vacation we keep talking about. The Gateses just picked up a property in Naples.”
“The couples trip?” I asked curiously, my attention immediately focused sharper on her words. I loved my parents, but the concept of them all gone… together? Leaving me with just the guys? I would never say no to that.
“Yep.” Her lips pressed into an excited smile before squeezing my hand. “We are thinking sometime this week. I wanted to make sure you’re okay with being home by yourself, after everything that happened… I know the boys are going to be home, but I still worry.”
“Totally fine,” I promised. “I will probably just spend the time relaxing and getting ready for the new semester.”
My mom kissed the top of my head and walked back towards the cart, leaving me smiling a bit in excitement.What?I’m just saying, whenever my parents were out of town, the guys were literally over the entire time… sometimes they even slept over. I mean, it just sounded like an opportune time for really good things… or bad choices. Not that anyone was willing to make bad choices with me.Ever.
Not that I even knew if they were into me like that… well, I think they were attracted to me, but this entire friend zone thing was confusing. I think I may have friend-zoned myself? Maybe? Crap.
“Why are you so excited about being home by yourself, Dahlia?” Dermot’s voice had me letting out a small squeak. It was right against my ear, and I snapped my head around to find that he’d sat back down in the golf cart at some point, right next to me. I blushed as I tried to meet his gaze, wondering if it was that obvious where my thoughts had gone.
“Maybe I want to hold a party,” I said as I turned to the side, his large arm stretched across the back of the seat as he searched my expression. My guys were large, muscular and tall, but Dermot was truly massive, and I absolutely loved being in the shadow of his large frame. I felt safe and comfortable there.
Which was probably why I should stay away from him.
“No, I don’t think it’s that, lass,” he mused and looked back towards the course momentarily.
I hesitated, biting my lip and wanting his attention back on me. “Alright, well, why do you think I’m so happy about it?”
Good, Dahlia, redirect back to the possible awkwardness. I’m positive that won’t backfire.
Dermot’s gaze melted into a deep forest green as he looked back down at me. “I don’t think you want me to answer that question, Dahlia.”
I probably didn’t.
Before I could respond, the sound of a golf cart coming up behind us had me turning slightly. Immediately, my stomach clenched as I realized who was up next at this hole. Crap.Abby and Max Brooks.