Page 42 of Thresholds

Her words snapped me out of my filthy thoughts and I stuck my hand in my pocket. "Right," I murmured. Acevedo's apartment was sacred ground. The guy was some sort of legend. Twenty years from now, it would still be known as Acevedo'sapartment.

She held up the whisk, frowning. "These aren't stiff peaks," she announced. "Why aren't these stiffpeaks?"

I meant to look at the whisk. I really did. But I stared at her breasts instead. "Yeah, I—hmm." Her black v-neck sweater was heaven-sent, and the hint of cleavage at the apex was worth every minute of this friends-of-friends holiday catastrophe. "I don'tknow."

She sprinkled something into the mixture and resumed her whisking. There was no way to watch this without dreaming of hand jobs. No fuckingway.

"You're a surgeon, right? What's yourspecialty?"

"Trauma," I said. I sensed someone watching me and hooked a glance over my shoulder. Emmerling's boyfriend was doubled over laughing while a man I hadn't noticed until now was staring at me. He was scowling, his arms crossed over his chest. I didn't know what any of that was about and didn't exactly care. "Hey." I nodded at him. He didn't respond, so I turned back to my pretty new hostess friend. "What do you do,sweetheart?"

"Architect," she replied, her attention fully tuned to her whisk and the uncooperativeingredients.

"That's interesting. Not a profession I hear about every day," I said, smiling. "Thank you for accommodating the last minute addition. I hope I'm notimposing."

She tapped the whisk on the edge of the bowl, seemingly pleased with the peaks, and waved me off. "No trouble," she said, sliding the bowl in the refrigerator. "You know what they say. The more themerrier."

I'd never known that to be true but I wasn't arguing with the pretty lady. The pretty lady who wore a grand total of zerorings.

"What's your name,hostess?"

There was a noise behind me, almost a growl, but I ignored it. She pinned me with another cool glance, the type that warned me off and reeled me in all at once. She was going to make me work for every scrap, and I respectedthat.

"My fiancée's name isAndy."

A riotous laugh went up behind me. I tore my gaze away from the hostess and watched a man—the one with the scowl—join her behind the island. A groan started in my toes and worked its way up, stopping at each vital organ to gain size and speed until I was muttering "Fuck" for a fullminute.

"Sebastian," Andy with the fiancé started, "this is Patrick." She gestured between me and the man who was planning how he'd kill me tonight. "Patrick, this is Sebastian. He lives in Nick's oldapartment."

"Welcome toourhome," Patrick said, each word rougher than the one before. His hand moved from Andy's shoulder down her back. If the widening of her eyes was any indication, he was giving her ass one hell of a pinch. "Get a drink. Have a bite. Make yourself comfortable. Never speak to my fiancéeagain."

Another laugh sounded from over my shoulder, and I shifted to find the guests watching with fascination. Emmerling's boyfriend was chuckling behind his fist and I'd never wanted to beat his ass more than I did right now. Beat his ass and then disappear because I wasn't used to getting shot down with a captiveaudience.

"Put your ring back on," Patrick said, his forehead tipped against Andy's temple and his lips lingering over her ear. I wasn't meant to hear any of this but I couldn't stop watching them. "You torture me,Kitten."

"I don't mean to," she purred, her lips pulled up in agrin.

Oh, she fucking meant it. Meant every damnminute.

"Yes, you do," he said. "Perhaps I should steal you away and explain itbetter."

She shook her head. "I'm watching the paella. You'll have to save the lecture forlater."

He dragged the shell of her ear between his teeth. "You can believe Iwill."

I needed to duck away from this exchange and get the fuck out of here. My bed and those cheerleaders sounded damn good right about now. Before I could calculate my next move, a whirlwind of a redhead blewin.

"Oh my god, Andy, there was so much traffic," she said. "I thought I was going to waste away on the drive here. Where do you want these? Judy made them so they're amazing but I want you to keep them away from me. If I see them, I'll eat them all. I had ten on the ride here. Maybe twenty. I lost track. And don't let me near the paella either. I'm maxed out on spice and I can't stomach another chalky antacidtablet."

She was talking a mile a minute and carrying a large platter of cookies but none of that caught my attention. It was cleavage on display like sweet holiday hams. I could get lost between those babies. Suffocate and diehappy.

"Hello," I drawled. "You have your hands full there. Can I help you withthat?"

I gestured to her platter but she only glanced to Andy and Patrick with a quizzical look. Andy shook her head, shrugging, and Patrick was still figuring out how he'd dispose of mybody.

"No, I've got it," she sang. "I know my way around a handful. Thanks, though. You're apeach."

"We're calling this peach Sebastian," Andy said. "He's very special. I think you two are really going to hit itoff."