“What is wrong with you?” I whisper-scream at Derek.
“No one has written up a comprehensive list yet,” he tells me, stepping forward until I step out of the way.
“I am not going to that pool party,” I tell him.
Grimacing, he says, “Kinda already told Cassie you were. She’s going to be real disappointed if you cancel after she sat through that three hour drive to come pick you up.”
Sighing, I glare at him. “It’s not canceling when I already told you no.”
“Maybe I misunderstood,” he offers.
“Maybe you’re full of shit,” I offer back.
He smiles, catching me around the waist and tugging me close. “Maybe. Can I have a kiss anyway? I mean, I’m already here.”
I want to kill him for being a manipulative bastard, but I also want to melt against his hard chest, feel his strong arms lock around me, and let him kiss me senseless. Derek makes life so confusing.
“Damn you, Derek,” I say, shaking my head at him.
“I know,” he murmurs, bending his head so he can brush his devious lips against mine.
“You’re terrible,” I murmur against his lips.
“The worst,” he agrees.
Sighing, I relent, wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him. “This was an appalling thing to do. I’m not going to disappoint Cassidy, but this was bad. You can never do this to me again. What if I really had been too busy to go?”
“You’re not. You’re just trying to run away from me.”
“That’s not the point. That’s my choice to make. You can’t use Cassidy against me like this.”
“Then stop trying to break up with me,” he says, like his actions are justified.
“We aren’t together,” I mutter.
Releasing me from his embrace, he swats me on the ass. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go get dressed, fuck buddy.”
I shake my head, looking at him over my shoulder as I head across the living room. “The. Worst.”
Chapter Twenty Eight
“We should’ve bringed my baby, I bet she would like the pool.”
I clutch Cassidy’s beach bag closer, watching with anxiety as Derek drives down the tree-lined street toward my doom. Each pretty house has greener grass than the one before it, and I’m just waiting for him to slow down and hit the turn signal.
“Your baby doesn’t know how to swim,” Derek tells Cassidy.
“But we could teach her,” Cassidy objects. “My baby likes to go outside and play. She really likes cook-outs a lot.”
“Does your baby have a name?” I ask, glancing back at Cassidy.
“Yep. Little Baby Diva. We should get her a bathing suit.”
“I think you’re done getting new toys until your birthday,” Derek tells Cassidy, hitting the dreaded turn signal. “You fleeced Nikki last time we all went to the store.”
“I didn’t fleece her,” she objects. Missing a beat, she says, “What’s fleece mean?”
“It means you swindled her,” Derek says, winking at me.