Chapter 12 Not In The Mood, Chloe Roman I didn’t mean to kiss her—at least not like that. Not with her moaning into my mouth and my hands itching to rip her bikini off in broad daylight. But the moment she had walked out of the house in that scandalous collection of red strings, I'd lost all fucking restraint. I didn’t care that Emily was giggling just a few feet away. I wanted to tear that bikini off her and claim her in front of the whole goddamn world. All my promises and good intentions went up in flames. I wanted to corner her against the pool wall and fuck her hard, not caring if her entire fucking family was watching. There was nothing fake about that kiss. Not a damn thing. I wanted her. I still want her. Badly. And I know she felt it too. That’s the part that scares me most—the fact that I want her in ways I shouldn't, ways that’ll ruin everything. Best friends shouldn't think about fucking each other as many times as I've imagined bending Savannah over. I’ve imagined Savannah in every filthy position my mind could conjure. Bent over my desk. Moaning my name against the shower glass. Writhing beneath me on her childhood bed while her sister's bridal playlist played from the living room. Fuck. This isn't helping. How the hell did we get to this point? I barely registered the sting of cool air against my wet skin as I walked out. Emily’s laughter still echoed, bouncing off the stone patio and into my ears like background noise. The cold tiles beneath my feet were slick with the droplets of water from my body. I couldn’t breathe. And my dick? Hard. As. Fucking. Steel.Every muscle in me was tense, my hands curled into fists like I was ready to punch a wall—or someone’s face. I forced myself to move, to step into the corridor’s shadows and head towards our bedroom, but the click of a door in front had me pausing mid-step. Chloe. She stepped out of a bedroom, smiling at her phone as if it was a camera— now clad in a robe, one silk strap of her robe purposefully slipping from her shoulder like an invitation. The way she hid her phone behind her when she noticed me didn't go unnoticed. As if there was something she didn't want me to see. Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asked, feigning surprise like I hadn’t been here since yesterday. “Attending your wedding, blondie,” I said flatly. Her smile wavered. Her eyes darted to the left, then back. That guilt—what she was hiding—it wore heavy on her posture now. Shoulders notched, arms loose like she’d just gotten caught doing something dirty. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed. “What, blondie?” I cocked my head. “Hits a nerve?” She stepped forward, arms folding across her chest, voice tight. “Did Savannah bring you here to ruin my wedding? She’s always been a bitter old unsteady bitch.” Her crystal blue eyes wore suspicion. “Watch it.” My voice dropped, low and lethal. “One more word like that, and your fiancé’s going to be yanking that ring off your lying little finger.” Her eyes flinched. She cradled her hand like I’d just taken the damn ring already. “Does she know?” she asked, voice a whisper now. Quieter. Calculated. “No,” I said. “And I plan to keep it that way.” She smiled, slow and triumphant. “You’re in love. Again.” “And you’re a liar. As usual.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “We all are.” I shot her a glare and walked away. “Storming off already?” Chloe’s voice was like sugar with a venomous aftertaste. What the hell was I thinking, getting involved with a woman like this? I didn’t stop walking. “Not in the mood, Chloe.” She stepped in front of me. “You never are… until you are.” I stilled. My jaw tightened. “That was in the past. It shouldn't have happened and you know it.” Her gaze flicked downward, zeroing in on the bulge in my swim trunks like it was her personal invitation. She leaned in, smiling smugly. “Doesn’t feel like you think it was a mistake.” I took a step closer, crowding her. “This isn’t because of you, blondie. You're not that hot. Don’t mistake a physical reaction for interest.” She dragged her bottom lip into her mouth. “Is that so?” “I’m not fucking around, Chloe. Whatever happened between us? It ends there. I’m here with Savannah now. She's the one who has my heart.” She scoffed. “Funny, considering Savannah has no idea we’ve even met before.” My hand shot up and pressed flat against the wall beside her face, caging her in. My voice dropped to a low warning growl. “And she never will. You keep your loud mouth shut.” Chloe’s pupils dilated. She liked this version of me—dark, threatening, angry. It turned her on. It's what kept her coming back for more. “You were rough with me once, remember?” she whispered, brushing her finger down my chest, nails grazing skin. “You didn’t seem so noble then.” I grabbed her wrist mid-touch. Tight. Not enough to hurt, just enough to stop her. “Touch me again and I’ll make sure Dean finds out whose bed you spent the night in, three days before your engagement.” Her smile faltered. Good. “You wouldn't dare. You know why? Savannah's no saint either.” I scoffed. The audacity of this girl. “She never tried to be one.” Her breath came out in small pants as she challenged me without even moving a muscle. “You're blinded by the idea of her. You don't know her like I do.” “Chloe, you’re only interested in me because Savannah is,” I added darkly. “And that makes you even more pathetic than I thought.” Her eyes flashed. “Careful, Roman. One word from me, and your precious Savannah will never look at you the same. Nor you her.” I leaned in so close, our foreheads almost touched. “Then say it. And watch me destroy everything you care about.” Silence followed. She swallowed. I let her wrist go. “Ask her about Professor Kingston.” “Who the hell is that?” “Savannah has all the juicy deets.” Chloe smirked. “Last warning, blondie. Stay the hell away from her.” Without another word, I turned and walked past her, my pulse a war drum in my throat. I should’ve felt better after putting Chloe in her place. But I didn’t. Instead I felt sick. Like something inside me was coming undone. I didn't trust Chloe. So I turned on my heel and went back. The moment I stepped outside again, I saw Savannah in the pool with Dean—his hand in the valley of her breasts— scooping droplets of water like ice cream, nearing too damn close to her breast—I saw red.