I'm surprised to realize that I couldn't care less.
As much as I keep my personal sexcapades out of the gym and away from my job, I wouldn't mind stamping a claim on Remy. I don't enjoy sharing my women, for one, but I'm starting to realize I also feel a very carnal type of possessiveness when it comes to her. I should be the only one that wakes her up in the middle of the night with a screaming orgasm.
I shudder at the memory of last night—and then quickly wipe it from my thoughts before I decide to drag Remy upstairs for a repeat performance.
"Hi, Remy baby," I tease with a grin. "Fancy seeing you here."
She finally looks at me with a quirked eyebrow. "I should be telling you that. Since when do you come to house parties?"
I shrug nonchalantly and gesture at the group with my beer. "I wanted to bond with the team." I'm rewarded with a grateful smile from Dane and Pete.
Before we can say anything else, Lucy cuts us off. "Actually, we were just talking about the two of you living in the same house. How's that been going?"
Remy whips her head to glare at a very smug—and verysmiling—Lucy.
Instead of waiting for Remy to awkwardly stumble over some kind of non-answer, I respond for her. "It's been great," I quip. "We were able to lay down some new ground rules and now we're perfectly capable of hanging out around the house. We had a lovely conversation about it just the other night on the couch."
Remy's eyes go wide. I can tell by Lucy's barely-covered snort that she definitely understood my comment, but the guys might be too clueless to key into my hidden meaning. Remy's response will be what makes it obvious or not.
"Um, yeah. I just needed to scream at him a few times until he finally saw the value of my house rules. We're practically civil now."
Max chuckles from beside me, probably picturing how many screaming matches we must've had before we reached a truce.
Little does he know, the screaming was of a very different nature...
But it seems like the guys buy our lies. They start to ask her if she wants to head to the bar with them after the party ends here, but they're interrupted by someone calling Remy's name from across the yard.
She turns to the group that has since congregated near the grill. Based on the amount of Temple gear I see some of them wearing, I deduce that they know each other from college. She excuses herself from our circle and walks over to her friends with a big smile.
I try to rejoin Dane's conversation about the upcoming UFC fights this weekend, but I keep getting distracted by the sound of Remy's lively laugh. I can't stop myself from glancing over to where she's standing.
She's having an animated conversation about some kind of college memory with one of the girls. She's gesturing wildly, her facial expressions conveying every emotion during the length of the story, and every so often she throws her head back with a deep belly laugh.
She's absolutely radiant when she's happy. Her hair is blowing in the warm September wind and she occasionally brushes away a stray strand that's blown into her face. I realize I want nothing more than to tuck the hair behind her ear and kiss her so hard that she forgets her own name.
After a while she chances a look my way. While her friend is talking, she peeks a glance at me from beneath lowered lashes. I grin and wink at her, unashamed that she caught me looking.
Her eyes drop down again as a blush flames her cheeks. But she can't quite hide the small smile that tilts up the corners of her lips.
Finally sensing a lull in the UFC conversation around me, I use the opportunity to excuse myself from the group and make my way over to Remy. I decide I want to coax a few more blushes out of her, maybe see if I can convince her to sneak out of here with me. My nerves tingle with excitement.
Remy looks up at me with wide eyes when I reach her side. But just as I open mouth to make a teasing comment, I'm cut off by someone recognizing her as they walk by.
"Remy? Is that you? Holy shit!"
She turns startled eyes toward a man in suit pants and button-up. His dark hair is slicked back, and he's got a beer in his hands. His whole image reeks of Corporate America.
I narrow my eyes at him, something familiar nagging the edge of my consciousness.
"Jason?" she gasps. "Wow, it's been years. How are you?"
That's when it hits me. Jason started at Temple the same year that I did. We actually lived in the same freshman dorm building. At the time he was an awkward, nerdy kid studying philosophy. I think I heard he eventually used his degree to go to law school.
He grins at Remy and steps a little closer to whisper, "I know, right? Although God knows it hasn't been long enough to forget Lowe's class."
I put two and two together and deduce that Remy and Jason probably had a class or two together. They were both liberal arts majors, so they most likely spent time in the same academic buildings. Even though Remy is three years younger than us, I'm not surprised she was taking classes with juniors and seniors. Everyone knows she's a bit of a brainiac.
My pride at her being the polar opposite of my usual bimbo is soured by the fact that Jason has yet to acknowledge me and is now hanging on Remy's arm.