Page 191 of The Way I Hate Him
“Only a few more wrinkles,” Ryland says.
“Speak for yourself,” Abel replies. “I have a solid skincare routine that keeps me young.”
Buzz.
Christ.
I peek at my phone.
Hattie:I’m wet just thinking about swirling my tongue around the tip of your cock. Uncomfortably wet.
Hattie:Meet me in the bathroom next to the registration desk. Knock three times so I know it’s you.
I glance up from my phone to where she was sitting, but she’s no longer there.
Shit.
“Maybe we can have a sleepover sometime,” Abel says, pulling my attention again.
“What?” I ask.
He shrugs. “A sleepover. Don’t you think that would be fun?”
“We’re in our fucking thirties,” Ryland says. “Grown-ass men don’t have sleepovers.”
“If tents are involved, they sure do.” Abel sips his drink. “You can’t tell me a camping trip isn’t just a grown man’s version of having a sleepover.”
“You want to go on a camping trip?” I ask.
“Wouldn’t hurt for us to spend more time together now that you two are talking to each other. Also, it wouldn’t hurt you two to buy me something. I’m looking for a new tent.”
“Why the hell would we buy you something?” Ryland asks.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Abel asks, my phone buzzing in my hand. “I’ve dealt with both of you for the past decade, and I’ve handled it with grace. So yeah, you two owe me something. I like blue tents.”
“Jesus,” Ryland mutters as I glance at my phone. This time, it’s a picture.
Holy.
Fuck.
I swallow hard as I stare at it for a second too long, Hattie’s bare tits on full display.
Her small nipples are hard and pointed, her hand dragging down her cleavage, her tongue wetting her lips.
That’s all it takes for me to go hard right in front of her goddamn brother.
“What are you looking at?” Abel asks, starting to lean over.
“Nothing!” I practically yell, sweat forming on my lower back as I slide my phone in my pocket. “Nothing.” I nervously laugh as Abel and Ryland exchange confused glances.
Jesus, did Abel see her?
Can they see my bulge?
Can they tell that I’m sweating?
“You okay?” Abel asks.
