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Finn's gaze drops to my left hand, the one covered in ink, the one that’s fucked up. “And it’d be so much easier seeing as how I have two good hands to please a woman.”
He doesn’t know everything going on, but the comments have my gut twisting sharply, in anger and guilt.
“Ty,” Beck calls, his voice a warning. “Let me get you a drink.”
“I could use another too,” Finn tosses over his shoulder.
When Finn turns back, I’m close to him. He takes a step backward on instinct, eyes widening before he can stop the reaction.
I reach for Finn's shirt with my good hand. “You thirsty? Let me help.”
I shove him backward into the pool.
* * *
I’m pullingon a fresh shirt for dinner from the ones already hanging in the closet when I hear Annie’s yelp from the other room. I sprint out to see her bent double over one of the huge trunks.
“That was not here before,” she mutters.
“The staff brought them from the plane. I’ll have them moved.”
She lifts the lid, revealing more merchandise. “You have to sign all of it this week?”
“No,” I say firmly. “The label didn’t tell me they were sending it. It’ll keep.”
Annie rounds it and heads for me, still in her white towel, her hair dripping over her shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed from the shower.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Her lips twitch. “You threw Finn in the pool.”
I press a finger to her mouth, wincing. “Please don’t say his name right now.”
“You invited him.”
“I didn’t…” I groan because it’s still my fault he’s here. “I don’t know how I ended up with that asshole sharing our island the week of my wedding.”
“Easy,” she murmurs. “My dad asked you to be part of a deal, and without consulting your future wife, you said yes. Through an unfortunate series of events, you invited my ex-mentor to our wedding.”
It doesn’t feel any better when she says it, and I curse as I pull her hips against mine. “Nothing ever happened between you?”
She arches a brow. “I told you it didn’t.”
“Tell me again,” I whisper. The words are a demand, but my tone is desperate.
“I’m not feeding your ego.” But her gaze drops to where my shirt hangs open, and her finger traces the lines of my pecs.
“It’s not ego, Six. There’s no pride between us.”
“Good. What about jealousy?”
Every nerve ending tingles when she touches me, and I lick my lips. “Maybe a little.”
She threads her fingers in my hair. “Remember when it was blue?”
I grin. “Yeah.”
Annie’s shoulders rise, then fall, with a heavy breath. “I liked it blue.”
