Whatever Happens Next (Triplets Book 2) Read online

My stomach rolled at his mention of us. I’m not sure he even caught it.

  Alex stepped down onto the jet ski, holding out a hand for me to grip as I climbed on behind him. My arms circled his waist, and then he drove off.

  We rode along with the other two, staying in a group. A pod of dolphins appeared out of nowhere, swimming right next to us, their narrow bodies breaking the surface as they jumped. Sightseeing all the mansions only appealed for so long before the guys started fooling around. Alex sprayed Brooks and Jo, soaking them to the bone. Brooks tried retaliating, speeding after us. Jo’s missing hold around his waist didn’t register, and when he took off, she went flying backward, submerging beneath the water.

  Alex steered us away from the others so I could give driving the jet ski a try. He scooted back, and I crawled around him to the front.

  “Ok, when you put it in gear, it’s going to go, but you won’t be able to steer unless you throttle,” Alex says.

  “Got it.” I nod, putting it straight into gear.

  “Go easy on the throttle at first.”

  Twisting the handle, I thought I pulled with ease.

  The jet ski flew forward. Alex shot an arm around me just in time before getting dumped in the water.

  “I said easy, sunshine,” he laughs.

  “Sorry.” I let go of the gas, glancing over my shoulder at him. Seeing his big smile was like I just took a dive into the cold water.

  “It’s all good. Try again.”

  My second attempt at taking off went better. We rode out a ways from the others. I was having a ton of fun, but I was also becoming distracted with Alex’s hands on me.

  I slowed down to an idle.

  “Sneaking around is fun and all, but I’m kinda missing the apartment right now,” I say. We were cruising down a channel with houses on both sides.

  Alex pressed close to me, bringing his face to my open neck. “I know. Damn Brooks for doing nice, brotherly things and cutting into our one week.”

  His mouth grazed up to my ear.

  “Have you heard anything about your closing?” I ask.

  “My realtor said soon. Probably beginning of next week.” Alex trailed his hand down my bare leg, running back up the inside.

  I sighed, my eyes fluttering closed.

  His fingers reached the apex of my thighs.

  Then a loud sprout of air and water broke the moment. A dolphin swam next to us, five feet away.

  Alex laughed into my neck, placing a kiss on my skin. “Let’s head back before someone comes looking for us.”

  I drove the jet ski back, only forgetting once that you have no steering when you let go of the throttle.

  When we were back on board, I found an alcove on the upper deck. I dragged Alex in there with me. Without the life vests, we wore just our bathing suits. He walked around with no shirt and a pair of boardshorts that rode low on his hips. I was burning with desire to have him in whatever way I could get in that moment.

  I kissed him hard, crawling into his embrace. One of his hands crept beneath my bottoms, squeezing tight to my ass. His other hand loosened the strings tied around my back. He palmed my naked breasts, twisting and pinching my nipple. I had to bite back the moan that threatened our location.

  Alex toyed with me, nipping my lip before bringing his mouth to my breast.

  His tongue ran over the peddle with a slick, gentle stroke. He blew on it softly, the nub tightening even further.

  Footsteps from the outside caused Alex to lift his face with a wicked grin. All noise faded from my ears when he latched on my nipple and sucked. If someone found us, they were about to get a show. Because I will not allow Alex to stop doing what it is he does better than anyone I could imagine to do with a tongue.

  His fingers slip between my thighs, swiping up and down and plunging inside. I came on his hand.

  I return to the present, now hearing voices on the upper deck. They don’t sound like our people, so I assume they are someone from the boat crew.

  We can’t walk out there with them. Since we’re stuck, I want to make use of the time.

  Dropping to my knees, I untie the knot in the front of Alex’s shorts. He stares down at me, a dark fire burning in his gaze. The two people are griping about the Captain who won’t let them ask for autographs or selfies from the Fury players.

  It’s so hard to hold my laughter in.

  But Alex doesn’t notice because I’ve grabbed onto his cock, stroking and running my thumb over the tip. I take him in my mouth, sucking him deep. Alex fights to remain quiet. He lifts an arm to help hold himself up, but his hand slams down against the teak finish with too much force.

  Minutes later Alex tucks himself inside his shorts. The two young guys are still out there. Alex shoots me a smooth grin, stepping out of the alcove. My eyes widen as he latches onto my wrist.

  “A selfie for your silence?” Alex prompts.

  I scrambled down to the bottom deck while he bribed the kids with autographs too.

  After a couple hours playing with the jet skies, we sat down for a small lunch prepared by the chef on board. The Captain steered the yacht out of the bay and into the Gulf, passing under the Skyway Bridge.

  Alex snuck into my cabin when I left to shower and get ready before docking in Key West. The Captain announced we were an hour from port. He joined me under the hot spray.

  It was after he snuck out that an alert echoed throughout my tiny room. The ping wasn’t mine. I found Alex’s cell phone had fallen on the bathroom floor.

  “Crapcrapcrap.”

  With the fog of desire that I can’t seem to escape, a jolt of anxiety blew it away with that alert. I began freaking out that one of his brothers were looking for him and might discover us. I flipped the silence switch on the side, just in case. The walls were thin, and all of the rooms were sitting on top of each other. If anyone of them were nearby and decided to text again or call, there’s no doubt they would hear it.

  Honestly, I didn’t see the concern in Brooks or Cam knowing about us, but I had to respect Alex’s wishes. He was serious about no one learning we were hooking up. I agreed—might have even begged—to this secret. A part of me knew it was wrong to lie to my friends, to his family. It’s wrong to lie to yourself, too. But there is no discomfiture on my end.

  Well, maybe a smidge felt wrong. And that’s because I’m scared how much it feels right.

  On Alex’s phone—I look not intending to read the actual message, but just wanting to see if the text is from Brooks or Cam.

  Except, it’s neither.

  It’s from an Elle.

  I can’t stop my eyes from scanning the words across the screen even if I wanted to.

  Which I didn’t. I wanted to know who this Elle person was.

  Elle: Congrats today, baby! I’m so proud of you.

  I flip the phone face down on the countertop.

  It’s not my business to know who calls him baby. We didn’t talk about exclusivity—I don’t know the rules here, obviously—but I sure as hell don’t want to be someone’s Amber.

  Alex wouldn’t do that, though.

  Right?

  I finished getting dressed and doing my makeup. I wore a sleeveless, white jumpsuit with nude pumps.

  Leaving my room, I head toward the lounge on the lower deck. It’s been the central spot we’ve all congregated to today. Nobody was there, and voices were faintly drifting down from upstairs.

  I climbed the steep steps to the upper level. The sun was beginning to set, and being as close as we were to the Keys, the view from the yacht was stunning.

  A pinky-orange glow greeted me as soon as I reached the top. Everyone stood facing the west. I caught Alex’s sharp gaze.

  His eyes ran from my face and all the way to my toes. I felt it like a caress—the wonder and recognition of his sincerity. He looked at me like there were no secrets to hide.

  That was so far from the truth.

  I walked off to the other side, far enough away I could kee
p the conversation from the others but close enough to not cause any speculation.

  Alex sidles over, leaning an elbow against the railing.

  I pull his phone from my small handbag.

  “You left this in my room. A…text came in. From Elle. I didn’t mean to read it, but the word ‘baby’ kinda stuck out.” I was proud of sounding calm and not accusatory in the last part.

  When I saw the name and then the endearment, I felt a twinge of jealousy. I had a few options on how to handle this. Option A, hand him back his phone and say nothing. But then I would be going knowingly into seeing him again while another woman may not know about it. Option B, hand him back his phone, saying nothing, and storm off in a fit of stupid jealousy. But I’m not about that kind of drama. Option C, give Alex his phone and then ask my burning questions.

  I went with C. I’ve spent too much time suppressing thoughts and opinions for fear it would do more harm than good.

  Alex takes his phone out my hand with a heavy sigh. Whenever men get all huffy, it’s difficult to read their exact emotions. He could be mad I read his message, or he could be mad he got caught being with someone else.

  “I get you could be hooking up with other women, but I just have to ask if she’s someone like me or a girlfriend.”

  “She’s neither.” Alex faces the sunset. With a fierce countenance, he answers, “Elle was my Vic. Not exactly the same, but she’s my before. Moving here and starting over is my after.”

  He doesn’t elaborate further. He doesn’t have to. I understood enough when he said this Elle woman is what Vic is to me.

  They were before.

  Everything now was our after.

  “Okay,” I reply softly.

  Alex sneaks a glance down my outfit. “When we dock at the marina, I’m sure most of us will be splitting up. Will you stay close by? Duval St. can get a little crazy.”

  His concern tweaks at my heart.

  “I was thinking we needed to keep our distance. We’re on a 135-foot yacht, and we’ve cut it close a couple times already. We’re gonna need a bigger boat,” I say.

  “Did you just quote Jaws?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wish I could fucking kiss you right now.”

  “For quoting Jaws?” I laugh at the ridiculously sexy look on his face.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Cam walks over and stops at my other side. A plate in his hand, snacking on more food like usual.

  “Chelsea found my phone and was returning it,” Alex answers, thankfully. I did not have a response prepared.

  Cam munches on a strawberry, his eyes flicking between Alex and me. “You seem to lose that a lot, Alex.”

  We suck at a secret fling.

  CHAPTER 15

  ALEX

  “MR. LABELLE, IT’S Nikki. Are you ready to close on your new home?”

  My realtor was chipper and excited for me. I should feel some joy, after all, I was dumping a fucking fortune into my new house.

  If we were closing that meant…

  “We can do it tomorrow morning,” she goes on when I don’t respond. “The keys will be in your hand by ten a.m., and you can start moving in.”

  “Thank you, Nikki. I can’t believe how fast you made this happen.”

  “That’s my job. As long as you’re happy with the house you’ve chosen…” She lets it hang open as a question.

  I am happy. I bought property with more space than I knew what to do with, but it’s near the water. It has character and history. And the closing couldn’t come at a better time for my belongings have finally made it to Florida.

  “I couldn’t have picked a more perfect house. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  The closing was sooner than what I told Chelsea it would be. Tomorrow is Friday. Which means tonight is my last night with her.

  Chelsea kept busy during the week. She finished up Cheryl’s sunroom. Even roped me into helping her pick up the new plants she purchased on Wednesday. There was a four-foot cactus I got suckered into carrying for her.

  Cheryl recommended Chelsea to one of her friends who wanted to redecorate her living room. Her smile was something I’ve been mesmerized by since I first met her, but seeing the purity in the one she had on her face at hearing she booked another client kicked me so hard in the gut I forgot to breathe.

  Now our time was up.

  We’ve managed to keep the fling quiet from the others. Even after Brooks’s pop up visit yesterday morning.

  Jo had kicked him out of the house. They were leaving for the Bahamas sometime in May for a month’s vacation, and she had a lot of work to get done in advance. The tool caused so much distraction while she worked from home that she threatened to start going to the office.

  So he brought his distracting ass here.

  Chelsea was in my bed that morning after a late night of sexual escapades all throughout the place. Brooks hollered once he stepped off the elevator, “Honey, I’m home!” Then he proceeded to have no boundaries by walking right into my room.

  He may have owned the place, but I almost kicked his ass for that. Chelsea had to escape through the sliding glass door in my room, across the terrace with only a sheet wrapped around her, and go back inside through the living room.

  Since that wasn’t bad enough, when he and I were on the couch, and Chelsea was sitting at the island in the kitchen, Brooks’s face pinched into inspector mode.

  “Did you fire the cleaning crew?” Brooks asked, eyes wandering off toward the tall windows facing the city.

  Chelsea wiggled in her chair, spinning the upper half of her body.

  I didn’t even know we had a cleaning crew.

  “They quit,” she said. “The last two times they’ve come over there wasn’t anything to clean.”

  “Chels, I told you I’d keep the service so you wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning this place.”

  “I like to clean. It’s therapeutic. And it’s the least I can do since you’re letting me stay here rent free.”

  He removes his gaze from whatever had his attention outside.

  I look from Chelsea to the windows, sitting very still.

  “Why do you ask?” She can’t see what we see.

  “There’s a streak on the glass. A handprint and…” Brooks clears his throat, uncomfortable.

  Breasts are what he leaves unsaid. There’s a Titanic worthy handprint smearing across the window, paired with two, perfectly symmetrical, rounded boob smudges.

  “That’s my fault,” I speak up as I witness the exact moment Chelsea saw what we were both looking at. “I had company last night.”

  Chelsea’s face snaps the other way, hiding the color that I know has pinked her gorgeous face.

  “Against the window, Alex. Really?” Brooks shakes his head with a smile. His voice chides, but his expression says he approves.

  “She wasn’t complaining.” I lifted my hooded gaze toward Chelsea when Brooks wasn’t looking.

  She made a lot of noise last night, but none of it was in protest.

  Chelsea gapes at me.

  “But in the living room? While Chelsea was home?” Hard to believe his censure when he kept nodding with ratification.

  By the time Brooks and I left to hang out with Cam and Dad, Chelsea was ready to throttle me.

  But the fun was coming to an end.

  Considering the trouble I could get into with work, I should be happy to be moving out quicker than expected. The controversy over our particular situation is wrong on many levels. I’ve been in a secret relationship before. It felt wrong the entire time because I hid it from so many people I cared about. This secret goes beyond a moral compass. Yet nothing about Chelsea feels wrong.

  I’ve fallen deep enough to chance what may come after this.

  That doesn’t change our timing, though. I’ve held back from saying more because as she has reminded me, she is still married. She has things to work through. A divorce to settle. Only a couple months left until sh
e’s gone for good.

  Chelsea stepped off the elevator a little after four o’clock. I was in the kitchen cooking dinner. It was something I haven’t done since living here. Actually, neither one of us has. We always ate separately. We were trying so hard to force this thing between us to be casual. To not get too attached to the other.

  Tonight I didn’t care. It was my last night here.

  “That smells amazing.” Chelsea stepped down from the gallery and into the living room. She pushed her sunglasses onto her head, tight curls pulled back from her face.

  My chopping hand slowed above the peppers as she trekked across the room. Watching her walk anywhere was like witnessing an unforgettable performance.

  “Nothing fancy. Just spaghetti.”

  “You made your own sauce. That’s fancy to me. I only would have bothered with the can.”

  “We’ve never had a meal together. Thought it’d be nice.”

  Her smile softens, and my chest tugs with unmistaken meaning.

  “Any special reason?”

  “I’m closing on my house tomorrow.” The knife halts once more when I receive nothing but silence.

  Chelsea’s eyes are locked onto me, her smile frozen in place. “That’s good news.”

  I nod without enthusiasm.

  “So, um, I’m going to go change. Red sauce and white pants are a bad combo.” She hops off the stool in front of me, her heels clicking all the way back to her room.

  That sound started as an annoyance. Since I’ve been staying here, she has worn high heels all over the apartment at all times of the day. Everywhere except for the shower. Now I was used to it. Now the pure silence drove me nuts.

  I was transferring the pasta over to a bowl when she returns. The noodles barely made it in.

  She changed into a loose dress with thin straps and a deep cut down the front of her chest. The v-neck had four skinny straps crossing over the curves of her breasts. And she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples pressed firmly against the red-orange shift.

  “Need help?”

  “Breadsticks. Oven.” She has my head so warped I can’t speak.

  As she walks behind me, her fingers dust across my lower back. A comforting, intimate brush of her hand. It’s a short moment as we work together in the kitchen. But a moment that passes through me with an extended effect.