Play With Me - Brittany Cournoyer Page 0,59

what I could bring, so I made brownies,” he told me after I finally pulled away. But not until after I bit his bottom lip and briefly sucked on his tongue.

“I told you all you needed to bring was yourself,” I reminded him.

“And that’s rude. I was raised you never showed up somewhere empty-handed. My grandma would slap me upside the head if I did. Besides, these brownies are stuffed with peanut butter cups.”

That was when I belatedly noticed he was holding a container covered in aluminum foil, and my mouth started to salivate at the flavor combination he described.

“Those sound delicious. Thank you.”

“Did I hear brownies?” Weston shouted from behind me.

I groaned and rolled my eyes before turning to face him. “Nosy much?”

“How am I being nosy when you two are talking right in front of all of us? And my ears always pick up conversations about food. They’re trained that way.”

Another groan tore from my throat before I turned back to Foster. “Come on, I know you’ve already met the guys, but let me formally introduce you.”

I grabbed his free hand and led him toward the guys who were clustered on the patio. Baylor was still watching the grill like it’d suddenly grow legs and run away so we were forced to order pizza, while Weston was seated on one of the chairs and Maverick was standing by the door with two drinks in his hands. Foster’s arrival must’ve stopped him in his tracks, and I had to bite back the urge to laugh at the ridiculous scene.

“Guys, this is Foster. Foster…these are the guys.”

“Nice introduction, Stellan,” Baylor mused with an eyeroll before holding out his empty hand. “I’m Baylor.”

The other two introduced themselves, though I was sure they already knew each other’s names from the time spent at Clancy’s. I relieved Foster of the pan of brownies and put them in the kitchen so Weston wouldn’t help himself before the food was ready and grabbed him a soda from the fridge. When I returned to the patio, Foster was seated at the table and talking to Weston and Maverick while Baylor added commentary from the grill.

Any reservations I had were instantly diminished as I took in the scene. I had absolutely nothing to worry about because Foster fit in just fine. And whatever feelings I had for him just increased tenfold.

I also came to the realization I was tired of taking baby steps. The time had come to take a giant leap.

“See you Thursday,” I told Weston before firmly shutting the door behind him while he was midsentence.

Truth be told, I didn’t think they’d ever fucking leave. As much as I enjoyed hanging out with them, eating perfectly grilled food and the most delicious brownies I’d ever put in my mouth, I was ready for them to go away. But of course, they lingered and even helped with cleanup, something they never did. I was seconds from tossing them out on their collective asses when Maverick finally took my not-so-subtle cues and was the first to leave. I wasn’t trying to be rude—much—I just wanted some alone time with Foster.

“I like them,” Foster said when I returned to the living room. “I can see why you guys play so well together.”

“Because we’re decent musicians?”

Foster shook his head, and I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Well, you are, but I just meant you jive well together.”

“Ah, well as glad as I am that you guys all got along, I was ready for them to fucking go.”

“Why’s that?”

I stalked over to the couch where he was seated and leaned down. Grabbing onto the back of the couch to anchor myself, I blocked him in place and wasted no time in sealing my lips over his. As much as I wanted to let go and allow it to match the heat that coursed through my veins, I took my time. I licked the seam of his lips, I sucked his tongue into my mouth, and I relished the taste of him.

Foster grasped my sides, clenching the fabric of my T-shirt in his hands, and all I wanted to do was rip the offending material off so I could feel his fingers on my bare skin. I wanted to feel him, all of him, against me. And from the way he reacted to my touch, I knew he felt the same way.

“Stellan?” Foster asked when we finally parted.

“Yeah?”

“Will you play your saxophone for me?”

I smiled and ran my fingers through his