THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,177

to Morganna. Her eyes shift to the side. Alex wraps a scrawny arm around her waist and my annoyance morphs into rage. Maverick stands beside me and claps a hand on my shoulder. If my gaze held fire, I’d be burning a hole through his hand on her tan, glistening waist. Actually I’d burn him entirely to the ground, singe the infidel into ashes.

“I’m a gentleman, fellas. I’d never betray Morganna’s confidence. Good or bad,” Alex the STD responds. I take in a deep breath. Cody chuckles. I hear him pop open another beer. Readying himself for the shit show, I’m sure.

I crack my knuckles beside me. “What is it you do, Alex? Other than whatever she tells you?” My eyes squint and hone in on the tiny movement of his hand. He’s finally uncomfortable. Morganna, sensing hostility, shrugs out of his grasp. Alex clears his throat and averts his eyes.

“Classy, Steven,” Morganna sneers. “Is there anything else you need? I’m obviously alive and well. Tell Windsor I said hello.” She thinks I’m here to make sure she’s okay. She has no idea that seeing her with him is making me delusional with jealousy. Maverick smiles and starts talking to her about Windsor and the kids and, for the moment, I’m relieved I don’t have to pretend.

Taking a deep breath, I turn around and grab a beer and gulp down several large swallows. I don’t want a clear head right now. I’d rather drink until I forget exactly what’s happening. Cody glances at me in between screwing around on his iPhone. I remember what he said about dropping the friends. Maybe I can’t be her best friend anymore. When I turn around it’s obvious she’s been staring at my back. She’s always staring at me, my body, my face. Point for the home team. I smile, not letting it reach my eyes. I notice Alex has taken to fiddling with the sails starboard while making himself scarce. Perfect.

Not friends, I remind myself. “You look stunning today, M. That bathing suit is singeing the state,” I rasp, in the most non-friends way possible. Her eyes widen. I’ve taken her off guard. I add, “I’ve missed you.” Her thick lips part. Her body language is still of a confident, fearless woman, but the tiny tells on her face are more than enough information for me.

She clears her throat. “Thank you for that highly inappropriate compliment. It’s actually an old bathing suit. I pulled it out of retirement. I’m pretty sure it’s not what’s singeing the state right now.” Bam. The Morganna shark is back. I laugh, my head tilted toward the sky. I lick my lips and watch her gaze flick down to my mouth. The tension is palpable, and for once I’m glad that we’re not by ourselves. I need everyone to realize this chemistry isn’t one sided. I want the world to see it—be envious of it. Alex might realize he will never put this look in her eye. Never. I’m sure of it. I hear Maverick and Cody talking behind me, the radio on. I’m confident no one can hear me except for Morg.

I jerk my chin toward her. “You singe more than states,” I respond, reaching down to readjust my dick. Her eyes dart down, and her shrewd gaze slowly wanders back up to mine. My implied meaning is crystal fucking clear. “But you already know that.” She clears her throat, visibly affected by my words.

“Morganna, you ready to head out for a little sail? We don’t have much time before you need to get back,” Alex prompts, breaking her train of thought. I point the nastiest glare possible his direction, then return my gaze to her.

Morganna lays her small hand, nails red, on the center of her chest. “ Of course. Of course. We must stay on schedule.” Her voice is breathy. I wonder if I just sparked something inside her. Something with benefits that I won’t reap. Fuck. I need to play it cool.

I also need to let him know I am a permanent fixture in her life. “I’ll see you later, then?” I ask her, winking. She shakes her head, but that fierce look in her eyes is still there. She means yes. I don’t think I can make my not friends agenda any clearer.

“I’ll see you later, guys,” she says, waving to us as Alex pushes his boat away from ours—like it’s some sort of disease. Doesn’t he know that he’s the sexually transmitted