reminding her about his past with Bernie wouldn't help the situation.
He chewed the insides of his cheeks, reminding himself to stop thinking like Cyn was a possibility for him. He was barely holding onto control now. His dick was at war with his brain, and his dick was winning. He wouldn't turn her down, but if Cyn wanted him, she'd have to make a move. He was done chasing the girl who had always held herself just out of reach.
What would he do if he got her alone, and those dark urges surfaced?
Maybe she'd play along.
He pushed away the notion. He couldn't take it if she looked at him the way Emily had when he'd suggested tying her to the bed. Like he was some kind of freak.
"I wish we'd been smarter then." Cyn's voice broke through his meditation. It was soft and wistful, like a song in minor key. "Girls are obsessed with love, and boys with sex. In high school, kids aren't ready for either."
His chest tightened. "Are you sorry? About you and Rick?"
Her gentle laugh reached his ears despite the rumbling bass of the dance music. "I'm glad my first time wasn't with some loser who never called me again. That's what happened to my roommate freshman year." She shook her head. "Girls are so dumb."
"No. Guys are jerks."
She smiled. "Maybe a little of both?"
In the dim light of the hotel ballroom, he clutched her hand. When Cyn had moved to town sophomore year, the kids had seen her as an outsider, and that never completely went away. "High school wasn't a great time for you, I guess."
"It wasn't all bad." She grinned. "The best thing about dating Rick was getting you and Jordan as part of the package."
"The fearsome foursome."
"I can't believe I ever went along with calling us that! I was so naïve—I didn't have a clue about the double entendre."
"Jordy was the only one who did, at first."
"I guess he figured a ménage a quatre would be one way he could get with Rick," Cyn said with a smile.
"Did I hear my name?" Rick leaned toward her, bumping her shoulder. Trent wanted to punch him in the chest.
"Trent reminded me about the fearsome foursome. I suggested we finally go through with it. You guys could join me in my suite."
Rick looked at him, then back to Cyn. "Straight guys aren't into foursomes that include other guys. In the throes of passion, their parts might accidentally bump up against each other, and they'd have to scrub themselves down with bleach."
"You've thought this through," Trent said.
Rick grabbed Jordan's shoulder. "If we did the fearsome foursome thing—who would you want to hook up with, me or Trent?"
Jordan raised his brows. "Poor Ricky, don't be embarrassed. You don't have to involve Cyn and Trent. You can suck my dick any time you want."
Trent almost did a spit-take, which would have been a terrible waste of scotch. Cyn laughed and grabbed his forearm to steady herself. Her hand traveled upward, stopping at his tricep. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her against his hip, filling his lungs with her orange-cinnamon scent. She didn't pull away.
Chapter 2
Cyn sat on a chair at Chestnut Grove Lanes, a plastic-wrapped package of white socks in one hand and a pair of rented bowling shoes in the other. The fluorescents overhead were a harsh contrast to the muted incandescent light of the hotel. With the canned music playing (was that a polka?), she actually missed the DJ back at the hotel and his repertoire of five-year-old pop.
She slid off her stilettos. "Tell me again why we're doing this?"
"Grudge match." Rick picked up a bowling ball and judged it for weight.
"You say that like it's an explanation."
"The last time we bowled," Bernadette said, "Rick kicked my ass. Now it's payback."
"Are we still fifteen?" Cyn wriggled her feet into the socks, and picked up the bowling shoes again. Gross . They were like the old fashioned saddle-style cheerleading shoes she'd had to wear, only uglier and smellier. They'd
He chewed the insides of his cheeks, reminding himself to stop thinking like Cyn was a possibility for him. He was barely holding onto control now. His dick was at war with his brain, and his dick was winning. He wouldn't turn her down, but if Cyn wanted him, she'd have to make a move. He was done chasing the girl who had always held herself just out of reach.
What would he do if he got her alone, and those dark urges surfaced?
Maybe she'd play along.
He pushed away the notion. He couldn't take it if she looked at him the way Emily had when he'd suggested tying her to the bed. Like he was some kind of freak.
"I wish we'd been smarter then." Cyn's voice broke through his meditation. It was soft and wistful, like a song in minor key. "Girls are obsessed with love, and boys with sex. In high school, kids aren't ready for either."
His chest tightened. "Are you sorry? About you and Rick?"
Her gentle laugh reached his ears despite the rumbling bass of the dance music. "I'm glad my first time wasn't with some loser who never called me again. That's what happened to my roommate freshman year." She shook her head. "Girls are so dumb."
"No. Guys are jerks."
She smiled. "Maybe a little of both?"
In the dim light of the hotel ballroom, he clutched her hand. When Cyn had moved to town sophomore year, the kids had seen her as an outsider, and that never completely went away. "High school wasn't a great time for you, I guess."
"It wasn't all bad." She grinned. "The best thing about dating Rick was getting you and Jordan as part of the package."
"The fearsome foursome."
"I can't believe I ever went along with calling us that! I was so naïve—I didn't have a clue about the double entendre."
"Jordy was the only one who did, at first."
"I guess he figured a ménage a quatre would be one way he could get with Rick," Cyn said with a smile.
"Did I hear my name?" Rick leaned toward her, bumping her shoulder. Trent wanted to punch him in the chest.
"Trent reminded me about the fearsome foursome. I suggested we finally go through with it. You guys could join me in my suite."
Rick looked at him, then back to Cyn. "Straight guys aren't into foursomes that include other guys. In the throes of passion, their parts might accidentally bump up against each other, and they'd have to scrub themselves down with bleach."
"You've thought this through," Trent said.
Rick grabbed Jordan's shoulder. "If we did the fearsome foursome thing—who would you want to hook up with, me or Trent?"
Jordan raised his brows. "Poor Ricky, don't be embarrassed. You don't have to involve Cyn and Trent. You can suck my dick any time you want."
Trent almost did a spit-take, which would have been a terrible waste of scotch. Cyn laughed and grabbed his forearm to steady herself. Her hand traveled upward, stopping at his tricep. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her against his hip, filling his lungs with her orange-cinnamon scent. She didn't pull away.
Chapter 2
Cyn sat on a chair at Chestnut Grove Lanes, a plastic-wrapped package of white socks in one hand and a pair of rented bowling shoes in the other. The fluorescents overhead were a harsh contrast to the muted incandescent light of the hotel. With the canned music playing (was that a polka?), she actually missed the DJ back at the hotel and his repertoire of five-year-old pop.
She slid off her stilettos. "Tell me again why we're doing this?"
"Grudge match." Rick picked up a bowling ball and judged it for weight.
"You say that like it's an explanation."
"The last time we bowled," Bernadette said, "Rick kicked my ass. Now it's payback."
"Are we still fifteen?" Cyn wriggled her feet into the socks, and picked up the bowling shoes again. Gross . They were like the old fashioned saddle-style cheerleading shoes she'd had to wear, only uglier and smellier. They'd
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