“MIMOSAAAS, BETCHES!” BASH singsonged as he slid into the seat beside me and set two bottles of champagne on the table. Wanda, our regular waitress at the Overlook, was right behind him with a couple of carafes of orange juice. When she went to set them down in the center, Bash took one from her.

“Oh no, honey. Today it’s one for Lucas and Shaw, one aaaall for me.” He shot us a smile full of sass and not the least bit apologetic. “Sorry, boys, I’m thirsty.”

Shaw’s lip curled up on one side as he sat back in his chair, the wicker groaning under his weight. “Looks like someone had a long night.”

“You mean weekend,” Bash said, as Wanda popped open the champagne and went about pouring our drinks into flutes.

“Was there an orgy I missed?”

Bash batted his lashes at Shaw and took a sip of his cocktail, pinkie out, always out. Even in the daylight, without full makeup, there was something ethereal, almost feminine about Sebastian. It was in the high cheekbones and alabaster skin, which served as a dramatic contrast to the jet-black hair he kept slicked back away from his face. It never failed that he’d get stopped by women while we were out, wondering what his secrets were, but that wasn’t the most frustrating thing about him. After all, you couldn’t help but be drawn to the guy. No, the most annoying thing was if you were the rare asshole who didn’t pay him mind, he’d wear you down until you made him a part of your inner circle.

Not that I’d know from personal experience or anything.

“What?” Bash said. “You mean you didn’t get the invite? Shame.”

Shaw gave a put-out sigh. “Some friend you are.”

As they continued to jab at each other, I mindlessly rubbed the smooth metal of the necklace I wore and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window that took up the entire south wall facing the Savannah Sound. Every Sunday we took up residence at this same table for brunch, usually hungover and armed with stories as we people-watched and geared up for a long workweek. Outside, it was one of those picturesque beach days that’d brought all the tourists in town for the weekend. Sunny and warm, but without the extreme heat the next couple of months would bring. What they didn’t seem to notice were the choppier than normal waters, or that the wild wind coming in off the Atlantic to cool things down wasn’t just an ocean breeze, but a storm on the horizon, courtesy of Tropical Storm Adelaide heading our way.

And speaking of storms… The weekend had brought in one hell of a wallop in the form of Jackson Davenport. His name had been volleying in my head since I’d walked back into the club Friday night. Like an idiot.

There couldn’t have been anything that would’ve shocked me more than that man reappearing in my life. But what I couldn’t understand was why. What was he doing here? And why now?

Fuck, I didn’t want to care. I’d moved on a long time ago, same as he’d done. There was no need to dredge up the past again, and yet…he had. He’d breezed on in, caught my attention, and now I couldn’t seem to think of anything else—something that had ruined my Friday night after-party plans as well as the rest of my weekend. And even sitting here now with Bash and Shaw, I couldn’t focus, because all I could see was the hurt on Jackson’s face when I left him standing in the alley alone.

Good. Maybe now he knows how it fucking feels.

That was what most of my brain said. The same side that wanted to know what Jackson had expected me to do—kiss his feet for coming back at all? Yeah, it was harsh. I knew it, and it told me exactly what kind of foul mood I was in, but the fact that he’d provoked this strong of a reaction from me at all was what pissed me off the most.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sighed quietly. I should’ve stayed home and gotten ahead on orders instead of inviting what would surely be an inquisition if Shaw took notice. And speak of the damn devil…

A wadded-up straw liner whizzed past my hand from Shaw’s direction, and I reluctantly met his eyes. Damn that overly perceptive bastard.

“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Shaw said. “This have anything to do with that guy from Friday?”

Uh, no, I wasn’t answering that loaded question with the truth. How to tell my friends I’d spent all weekend angrily jacking off to the surprise visitor I wanted nothing more than to forget? Not gonna happen.

“There were a lot of guys that night,” I said with a shrug.

Shaw smirked. “Only one I can remember.”

“Because who could forget? Fuck me, that boy was pretty,” Bash said, and then turned to me. “He was even prettier than you.”

I picked up my water and swirled it around before sucking a couple pieces of ice into my mouth. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Sure, you don’t,” Shaw said, stroking the scruff on his chin. “You know, Bash, I don’t remember seeing Sully boy the rest of the weekend, what about you?”

Bash gave a mock gasp. “Why, Shaw, you’re absolutely right. I don’t recall him sexin’ up the tourists on Saturday, and there was a delicious bachelor party in town. The Lucas I know would never turn down a guaranteed good time.”

“Hmm, so you think that Yank caught his eye?”

“I think he caught more than his eye… Jackson, was it?”

My head shot up, and both their mouths curved into sly grins.

“Ladies, I think we have a winner,” Shaw said.

“You know shit,” I replied.

“Oooh, look who’s defensive…” Bash leaned forward on his elbows and bumped my shoulder. “If you don’t want him, mind if I call dibs?”

I whirled around so fast that Bash stumbled back in his chair, and then, before I could stop myself, my finger was in his face. “You won’t fucking touch him.”

The smile left his lips, and his eyes widened, the shock from my outburst surprising us both.

“I mean it, Bash,” I said. “He’s off-limits, even for you.”

Bash blinked, immediately sobering, and then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I won’t touch him.”

“Good.” Ignoring the curious look Shaw was aiming my way, I finished off my water, trying to calm myself the fuck down. My heart was pounding so hard that I could hear the rush of blood in my ears, and I’d broken out into a sweat.

Jesus, did I really just accost my friends over brunch because of a guy?

“Damn,” Bash said, and then chuckled. “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

“You didn’t.”

“The hell I didn’t. You were ready to attack me. I saw you grow claws.”

“Fuck off, Bash,” I said, crunching down on my ice.

“Can I call you Wolverine?”

When I grunted, Bash’s lips twisted into a grin.

“I think the name suits you,” he said, reaching out to scratch just under my chin. “Look at what happens when you don’t shave, you hairy beast.”

Batting his hand away, I let out an exasperated sigh, but I knew it was Bash’s way of breaking the sudden tension that’d cropped up. God forbid I be mad at the guy for more than five seconds—he’d grow a fucking hernia.

Still, the annoyance persisted, but it wasn’t either of the guys who were the issue. No, the issue was thinking about anyone else with Jackson, and—

God. No. I wasn’t gonna go there. This shit was getting ridiculous.

Pushing back from the table, I stood up and pulled my wallet out of my back pocket as Bash pouted.

“Where you going?” he asked, and held up the champagne. “We haven’t even finished off a bottle yet.”

“Gotta get some work done,” I said, throwing a couple of bills on the table. Then I glanced out at the gathering clouds. “Make sure you get someone to board up if it gets bad. Or call me.”

“It’s not gonna get bad,” Bash replied, and then inclined his head at Shaw. “Our mystic said so.”

“You don’t have to be a psychic to watch the Weather Channel,” Shaw said.

Bash shrugged. “They’re wrong all the time. You’re not.”

Waving a quick goodbye to Wanda, I turned to leave, but Shaw called out my name before I could go very far.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked when I glanced over my shoulder, his tone casual, but his eyes showed a concern that I hadn’t been on the receiving end of in a long time.

I wasn’t a liar. To myself, maybe, but not to my friends. So when I gave him a small nod, I tried not to feel any guilt, because I knew that he likely saw right through me.

Was I okay?

I didn’t even fucking know.