He holds out the extra beer for me. I take it once he’s close enough. Then he’s grasping the side of my neck, pulling my lips to his. They part when his tongue demands it, diving in to stroke mine, and a satisfied sound vibrates in his throat.

Foster claims my mouth like he needed it. I needed it too, a promise everything from the other night is real.

His thumb brushes over my jaw, breath hot on my skin. “Hi.”

“Hey.” I smile, and he kisses me again.

“You never greet me like that,” Chase says.

Foster’s hand falls away, a sudden rigidness to him, and he turns to his friend. “Taste like her, and I’ll start.”

My cheeks heat at the grin spreading on Chase’s face, and I take a swig.

“So.” He crosses his arms but still points a finger between us. “You kiss her like that in front of me. Yet Colt called you Adams in front of her…” He lets out a surprised chuckle. “Little bro don’t know?”

“No.” Foster steps forward. “Keep it that way, asshole. It’s complicated.” He slaps Chase’s palm, telling him, “If I don’t catch your parents on the way out, tell them I’ll stop by the house this week.”

Chase nods. “See you in the morning for fishing.”

“Can’t wait to throw you off the boat.” Foster smacks him in the back of the head. He ducks in to kiss my cheek, a noticeable dip in his mood. His fingers skim over my hand, lips still on my skin. “I’ll see you later.”

A shiver flits down my spine, and I flash a small smile. My gaze trails after him as he walks away.

Chase sighs. “I’m suddenly remembering how disgusting you two were.”

I tilt my head at him and squint. “And I’m suddenly remembering you owe me a hundred bucks.”

He shrugs, pushing backward and spinning around to the pool table. “I’ll play you for it.”

While he racks the balls, Colton returns—blue ass lamp in hand. Fitting since Chase proceeds to hand me my ass in pool.

* * *

“You were right,” I tell Colton.

He spares a glance, pulling into the hotel’s parking garage. “I already know this is a setup, so go ahead.”

I shrug as he parks. “I didn’t like Chase more than you.” When he starts to smile, I open my door. “Valeria’s so superior, neither of you even rank anymore.”

The driver door shuts, and his eye roll is still going.

But I’m serious. Val rescued me from the bro-holes—her words, but they feel accurate. We went up to the rooftop patio, drank wine, and talked about all the things the guys never would. She’s already texted me a list of spas and demanded I pick one for us to visit before we go back on the road.