SCARS

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AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

FINN, AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

I am just heading over to Ali’s room to see if he wants to head to the bar for some dinner when my phone rings. August. Now what? He only calls when he either wants to set me up on yet another blind date or something is wrong with the ranch. I’m really not in the mood for either right now, especially not another blind date disaster. The last one was ready to marry me on the spot and talked nonstop about how big our wedding should be. On our first date – over dinner. So yeah, uh, no thanks – really not interested.

Especially after meeting Peyton. A few weeks ago I worked up the nerve to sit at the bar and talk to her a little bit and introduced myself. Then Ali got here so I introduced the two of them and now the three of us have spoken a few times. Nothing serious – just at the bar while she’s working.

She’s incredible.

Beyond her external beauty, which is remarkable – she is an outstanding person. She has a wicked sense of humour, very smart and enjoyable to be around. I like her – a lot. So does Ali. We haven’t discussed it, but I know he does. I’m trying to take things slow – this is too important to have blow up in our faces but I’m also really excited. Could she be the one?

Our one?

Ali and I have shared women before – a few times over the years. But it was always just sex, and everyone had the same goals going in. It was always fantastic, but it was also always just physical. Ali and I have the same dream but have never shared the same want for one woman before beyond sex. I think we have never had this discussion before now because we haven’t found ‘her’ before so what was the point?

But I think we may have found someone worth pursuing.

“What’s up August?” Please don’t let it be hours of work tonight, I’m really not in the mood. While I’m happy for what he doesn’t say, I’m shocked by what he does.

“I’m going to need a spot for a guest, and we’re going to want to keep it to ourselves,” he grunts. He doesn’t sound happy about this – whatever ‘this’ is.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask at the same time I hear his truck approaching down the driveway. He responds with a ‘you’ll see soon enough’ before he hangs up. Ali, after hearing my voice has joined me and we wait for August to stop his vehicle by us. As he gets out, he walks around and opens the back door. Ali and I approach and are stunned by what we see.

Peyton. Completely passed out and sprawled across the seat. There is even drool dripping out the side of her mouth. She is out. Hard core. Ali’s jaw has dropped open in shock, which is funny as hell. We both look at August for an explanation.

“Marley called me. No one knows what the fuck got up her ass but apparently, she was drowning shots like water until she passed out on the floor. She gave Marley her keys and money for a cab, but Mar is worried about her being alone with that much booze in her system.” Just then Peyton snorts loudly and tries to turn onto her side, instead falling into the gap between the seats and onto the floor. Whatever went wrong for her today, must have been big. And I’m incredibly angry at whoever made her hurt this way.

“She’s right, someone needs to keep an eye on her until she wakes up. Come on, we’ll put her on my bed and hope she doesn’t barf.” Both guys shrug and reach in to lift her out of the car. She’s so small Ali lifts her easily and carries her to my room. August says goodnight and heads back to the bar and Marley. Suddenly we’re her babysitters yet neither of us are complaining about it. In fact, secretly I’m kind of excited.

I slip her sandals off and notice she has ladybugs painted on her toenails. The top of her right foot has part of a tattoo that stretches up under her jeans – I’d love to see the rest of it, but I think that would be overstepping our bounds. The shirt she’s wearing does nothing to hide how large her breasts are, and for the millionth time since I first saw her thoughts of burying my dick between them flood my brain. Her hair is long and thick, tonight it is full of loose curls currently spread across my pillow. It is likely I’ll never wash that pillowcase again if it smells like her after this, no matter how pathetic that sounds.

What is this woman doing to me?

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