Page 31 of Puck Yes
“Maybe she does,” I say evenly, trying not to give too much away. Just that he doesn’t have the upper hand. “Number Eighteen.”
It only seems to delight him more that I’ve put it together. Hayes looks at his friend curiously, assessing, but doesn’t seem bothered that Stefan’s flirting with me.
That surprises me. Hayes gives off possessive vibes, like when he told me not to talk to other rooftop gardeners. Is he unbothered because he already backed off? Is this some sort of hand-off from one guy to the other?
My head hurts, and really there’s no point in trying to puzzle this out. My guy radar is out of whack.
My plant radar is not though. It’s hot again on the roof, the sun beating down. As Hayes strides to the planters, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and peels it off.
I was not expecting that.
He shoots a confident glance my way, his dark eyes glinting a message.Two can play at the shirtless game.
With the same swagger he’s shown since he announced he’d take me to the wedding, he turns back around, like he doesn’t even care if my eyes are on him.
The sexy, cocky fucker.
I do care. I care so much that I sway. The man’s muscles are insane. He’s long, strong, and toned everywhere.
As I stare at him unabashedly on wobbly knees, Stefan reaches out a hand and steadies me, grasping my elbow. “The view can be dizzying,” he says with an amused smile.
I roll my lips together and nod, sealing up my sighs.
Yes, the view is dizzying.
Two toned, strong, shirtless men on a rooftop.
I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, accepting this invitation to the garden, but I can’t seem to resist stepping into temptation with Hayes. And now, it seems, with Stefan.
But is it that I can’t resist either of them? Or both of them?
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, my girl is stretched out on the patio, frog-dog style, back legs splayed behind her and her eyes closed as she sunbathes. Nearby, there’s a telescope—the stargazing must be amazing from up here on a clear night.
I’ve thinned some carrots, and now I’m showing the guys how to weed the kale in the big metal planter in the center of the rooftop garden. Gardening is much safer than talking about dogs or the fact that I can’t keep my eyes to myself. “My grandma loves to garden. She taught me everything I know. And she won gardening prizes.”
“Mine taught me to sail. Not quite as useful,” Stefan says dryly.
Hayes laughs. “Dude, that’s so bougie.”
“Yes, that’s my grandparents for you,” he says to Hayes. “Not everyone’s grandparents teach them how to pitch a tent or build a campfire.”
“Did they teach you to play polo too?” his friend asks.
“I feel like there’s no good answer to that,” Stefan says.
I smile, relieved that their banter dispels some of the tension. “You harvest the leaves from the bottom of the plant,” I explain, running my finger across a leaf. “Like this.”
The sexy new guy on the team moves next to me. “Got it,” he says as he reaches for a leaf.
Hayes is so close I can smell his woodsy soap, mixed with sweat. The scent drifts into my nose and fills my head, lighting up my senses.
“Did you just work out?” I ask, distracted. Then his scent mingles with the equally alluring smell of clean sheets and powdery snow as Stefan steps closer, reaching for a leaf too.
“We went for a run a little while ago,” Hayes answers, and I picture the two of them pounding the pavement, looking strong and virile. I stifle a whimper.
“And we’re hitting the gym after this,” Stefan adds in a casual tone, but one that lingers at the end, like he’s inviting me to picture them at the gym.