Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,56

water and food. Help yourself.”

She offers me a smile then repositions herself so she’s facing the water. I follow suit, and we both watch the boys in silence while they take turns bouncing a beach ball back and forth. It’s surprisingly efficient the way they’re all doing it one-handed, and I comment so to Sunny.

Without skipping a beat, she replies, “You’d be surprised at what all Joe can do well with just one hand.”

I groan and flick the condensation from my beer in her direction. “You’re such a horn ball.”

I’m preparing myself for her to switch the topic to last night, and she doesn’t disappoint.

“And how about you?” she asks. “Did you get your itch scratched last night, or did he barely scratch the surface?”

Sunny, ever so eloquent.

If it weren’t for the heat, I’d swear I’m blushing at the memory of everything we did last night. And this morning. Tingles alight my body, all the way down to my toes, and if Sunny weren’t watching me so intently, they might’ve curled in remembrance.

“Would it be wrong to say you’re correct on both accounts?”

Sunny’s widening grin answers for her. “So you finally did the deed?”

“Once or twice,” I reply with a coy smile. “Of course, I had to practically beg.”

She sighs, and I want to echo it. “Begging is usually a good sign, Meems.”

“I think he knew what he was doing. Days with just light touches, devouring kisses, and nothing else made me desperate for him. By the time we got back to my place last night, I thought I was going to lose my mind if he didn’t do something more.”

“By the contentment on your face this morning, I’d say he did…and more.”

“You’d be right.”

I’m surprised by Sunny’s answering silence. More than that, I welcome it. She’s my best friend, and while she might be willing to spare no detail when it comes to her and Joe, there are some things I want to keep close to the chest. My night with Knox? It’s definitely one of them. Still, as time passes and the butterflies in my belly increase, I need some girl talk.

“Do you think it’s odd to be so addicted to someone after such a short time?”

Sunny tears her eyes from Joe and lowers her glasses so I can see her eyes. “I think after four years of you blocking out anything good, the fact that he was able to get in there at all is pretty fan-fucking-tastic, Meems.”

“Don’t go getting all excited, Sunny. Just because it feels intense right now, it doesn’t mean anything. We’re just connecting for the summer. Then it’ll fizzle in the fall.”

“Doesn’t matter. If Knox is nothing but a gateway drug to the next good thing, then, babe, smoke, snort, huff—do whatever it is you gotta do to get that man into your system.”

She’s right. I know she’s right.

“That’s good and all,” I say, “but you know what they say about gateway drugs. Get in your system, can’t get ’em out. You become an addict. And that’s a road that leads nowhere good.”

I don’t even realize I’m speaking out loud until Sunny sits up, raises her glasses onto the top of her head, and peers down at me.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, because even after four years apart, Sunny knows me all too well. When I open them, I hate the sympathy reflecting back at me. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, honey, if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t look like you just swallowed a bee. You’re not…falling for him, are you?”

“No!” I shout in protest, a little too loudly. It catches Knox’s attention, so I smile and wave, hopefully signaling that everything’s all good. Then I lower my voice and try to rationalize it to her. And probably myself in the process. “No. Definitely not. Sure, we’ve been attached at the hips for the better part of a week. Truth is, though, while I feel like I’ve known him for ages, there are still so many things about him I don’t know.” Not to mention the things he doesn’t know about me. “Hell. I don’t even know his last name. Nor does he know mine.”

Sunny wrinkles her nose. “Really? You’ve never talked about last names?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just never come up. Weird, I guess. It seems like we’ve talked about anything and everything.”

“So you’ve opened up to him about your parents?” she asks, her voice soft.

I swallow hard. “Okay, so maybe not everything.

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