Page 57 of Special Delivery

“Parker…” Wes scolds, but it’s too late.

“Don’t tell me you don’t see it. Look at him!” He points at me. “That is the face of a man who doesn’t want to share that he got laid.”

Wes narrows his eyes at me, and my neck itches. I try to play it cool, knowing I’ll be busted if I do anything, but Parker continues, “Why wouldn’t you tell us you got laid? We’re nothing if not supportive.” He shakes his head.

My throat constricts and my headache returns.

“Unless…” Wes adds.

“No.” Parker lets out a loud gasp, slapping a hand over his mouth. “You think?” He glances at Wes. “I was right?”

I swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you haven’t fucked the single daughter?” I hesitate a second too long, so he continues, “She’s technically your stepsister, you dirty dog. No wonder you didn’t want to tell us.”

Like always, bile rises in my throat at the word. “She’s not my fucking stepsister.”

He winks at Wes. “Got him.”

My head drops and I rub a hand over my face. It does nothing to clear my mind.

“So you did it? You slept with your mom’s fiancé’s daughter?” Wes asks.

I let out a sigh. “It wasn’t intentional. It just happened.”

“Gee, Wes. I’ve been sexually active for plenty of years now, but I never heard of sex just happening.” He adds air quotes. “How about you?”

“Me neither, if I’m being honest.”

“Traitor,” I tell Wes. They have now both ganged up on me.

“Chill out, man. You’re both adults.” His face transforms into one of disgust. “I hope.”

I return the napkin he lobbed at my face earlier, and it hits him straight on the nose. “Of course we’re both adults. Paige is twenty-eight.”

“Aw, Paige,” Parker teases me while wearing a proud expression on his face.

“Cut it.”

“Care to tell us how it just happened?” Wes asks.

I let out a groan. “I don’t know… She’s cute.” She’s fucking gorgeous, but I don’t want to reveal too much. I also don’t mention the fact that she’s the girl I delivered all those dildos to. I’m not about to share her business. “You know how it goes. Tropical paradise, bikinis, beach games, a room mix-up…”

“What the hell are beach games?” Parker says at the same time as Wes asks, “A room mix-up?”

A deep sigh escapes me. “Her dad, Roger, is eccentric. Apparently, he loves doing over the top things, such as organizing Survivor-type challenges on a deserted island in the middle of the Bahamas.”

“Fuck, some people really don’t know what to do with all the money they have,” Parker comments, taking a sip of his beer.

“Yeah. How nice it must be.” Wes’ lips pull into a thin line.

“He’s a cool guy. But obviously loves the drama,” I add. “Anyway, Paige and I were paired together, since we were the only singles in the group.” I tap the neck of my beer bottle, avoiding their focused gazes. “We won. And she…” My neck breaks out in hives. “She practically jumped into my arms.”

It’s ridiculous. I’m sharing innocent details with my peers, not talking to my mother about sex. Why do I feel so awkward? Why can I remember the feel of her lithe body against mine?

“I’m failing to see how that lead to sex, considering both of your families were present for the so-called beach games.” Thankfully, Parker drops his gaze back to the food.

“That’s just one detail.”