Though, now that Forest is with Skye he’s actually happy.
Which makes Oliver the most miserable guy at the shop. Not that he’s miserable exactly. More standoffish.
He’s a good friend, a good artist, a great brother.
And a moody motherfucker.
“What are you doing next week?” He crosses the room to us.
“World domination. Some light bondage. Maybe a threesome,” I say.
Forest chuckles. “You need new material.”
“Or at least a new routine.” Oliver leans against the counter. He rolls his shoulders back. Digs his fingers into his cell screen.
“You have a problem there?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He folds his arms. “It’s Daisy’s birthday.”
Right. She’s turning eighteen. I’ve been teasing him about it all summer. It drives him batshit, the thought of me kissing, touching, fucking his sister.
I wouldn’t do it.
There aren’t many things I appreciate. But loyalty is one of them. There’s no way I’d ever fuck my friend’s kid sister.
Even if there was, Daisy is a good kid. A sweet girl. She needs more than one and done. She needs someone who can love her with every bone in his body.
And I only have one bone—
Fuck, that joke is too lame. Even for me.
“We’ve been negotiating,” Oliver says. “About her trip.”
“The Mexico thing?” I guess it’s a rite of passage, heading to Mexico to drink legally. Or maybe Oliver just wants the excuse to get trashed.
“She doesn’t want me to come,” he says.
“No shit. You’re a buzzkill.”
He flips me off.
I return the gesture. “She wants to get laid. She can’t do it with you hulking around.”
His smile gets wide. Knowing. Pure evil. “She’s not getting laid.”
“Are you going to stand outside her room, punching any guy who comes near?” Sure, I have no plans of sleeping with Daisy, but I’m not about to let Oliver know that.
“I talked her into Puerto Vallarta.” His blue eyes shine with evil glee.
I don’t follow. “Okay, you’re going to Puerto Vallarta. And?”
“It’s the San Francisco of Mexico.” He taps his head obviously. “A huge spot for gay couples.”
“So?”
“So?” He looks to Forest. “Is your brother really this dense?”
“Yeah.” Forest nods. “He doesn’t understand the concept of not wanting to fuck someone.”
“You want to fuck guys now?” Oliver asks.
“Are you asking?” I wink at him.
Forest chuckles. “Even you can’t sell that.”
“Maybe we can find a girl who wants us both at the same time,” I say. “That might sate your craving.”
“I don’t share.” He shakes his head isn’t that obvious?
It is, yeah, but Forest doesn’t see it.
He shudders. “Too many details.”
“Oh, do you have some better details?” I turn to my brother. “I bet there’s a lot you could tell us about Skye. Does her lipstick leave a stain? How long does it take to wash that off?”
“None of your fucking business,” Forest says.
“He probably has her lick it off,” Oliver says.
Forest doesn’t cringe or yell or even roll his eyes. He just turns and moves to the coffee maker on the other side of the room.
Oliver bursts into laughter. “He is so done with your shit.”
“He left after your comment.”
“I bet he does.” Oliver raises a brow. “Fuck, how I bet her mouth is divine.” His gaze flits to his cell. He slips from dirty slut mode to protective older brother mode without missing a beat. “We’ve been negotiating all week.”
“Okay.” What does he expect me to do here? I’m not going to help him cunt-block her.
“She’s bringing a friend. You know that girl, Luna? Tall and leggy with the silver hair?”
“She’s hot.”
“Fuck yeah, she’s hot.” He says it without a hint of irony. It’s cool for him to covet his sister’s friend. But if anyone gets anywhere near his sister?
Fist to face.
Honestly, I don’t blame him.
There’s something about Daisy. I need to protect her. To make sure there aren’t assholes taking advantage of her.
Yeah, she’s a woman—or about to be one—with needs, desires, lust. I want her to experience that.
But only if she’s with someone worthy.
With someone who won’t hurt her.
“She says I can only come if I bring you,” he says.
“Why is she considering letting you come?” If it was my eighteenth birthday, I’d tell my brother to fuck off. Then I’d get wasted, take home the nearest attractive stranger, demand eighteen birthday spankings. Or orgasms (for her, not me. Sadly, I don’t have that much stamina. But I have two hands, a mouth, and access to plenty of toys).
“Dad’s paying,” he says.
“So? She should bring Gabe. He’s more fun than you,” I say.
He flips me off. “Don’t call my dad Gabe.”
“That’s his name.”
“He wants to go,” Oliver says. “But Daisy would rather have me.”
That’s hard to believe.
“Something about how everyone thinks Dad is hot,” Oliver says.
A laugh spills from my chest. “She thinks your dad will attract more women than you will?” She might be right. Mr. Flynn has this knowledgeable older dude vibe. He seems like someone who could teach a young woman many, many things.