My orgasm slams into me so unexpectedly my head spins and the room tilts as I gasp for breath.

“That’s it,” he rasps against my flesh as he pumps his fingers. “Let go.”

I shake and spasm, clutching the bedsheets for dear life as I ride out the rest of my climax.

Waggling his eyebrows, he reaches for the blunt on the nightstand. “That was fun.”

“It was,” I agree, still catching my breath. “Speaking of fun, your birthday’s next week. Do you have any plans yet?”

I’m kind of hoping he says no, so I can spend the day in bed pleasuring him, but he brings the blunt to his lips and nods.

“Boys’ night out with your brothers.” Giving his head a shake, he laughs. “And apparently a girls’ night out a few days later because Dylan and Sawyer don’t think it’s fair that Jace and Cole are hijacking me for my birthday.”

I don’t think it’s fair either. “Oh.”

I must fail to hide my disappointment because Oakley frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He pins me with a look. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Fine,” I relent. “I was kind of hoping we could spend time together for your birthday, too.”

He shrugs. “You should come out with us for girls’ night.”

I pretend to think about this for a moment. “Sure…as long as I get to run Dylan over with my car a few times before we leave.”

Reaching over, he tugs my hair. “Stop being a brat.” A cloud forms over his features. “Dylan’s important to me.”

I know she is.

However, it still doesn’t make me hate her any less.

I open my mouth to tell him so, but a knock on his front door cuts me off.

“Are you expecting company?”

“No.” He cups his hand over his mouth. “Who is it?”

“It’s Britney, bitch,” Cole calls out.

“We brought munchies,” Jace adds with a chuckle. “Open up.”

Oakley’s eyes go big. “Shit.”

Shit is right.

The one time I brought up possibly telling my brothers about us so we didn’t have to sneak around all the time—Oakley straight-up lost his shit.

I thought it was because he feared a very probable ass-kicking, but that wasn’t the case.

Oakley considers Jace and Cole his family and the thought of losing them…

Well, let’s just say I care about Oakley so much I understand why we need to stay a secret.

There’s no way my brothers will accept the thought of us having a summer fling, and given Oakley’s mother already walked out on him and he purposely distances himself from his dad because he can’t bear to bring himself to tell him he slept with his wife...

I don’t want him to lose another person he loves.

Jumping off the bed, Oakley shuffles into his sweatpants. “One second.” He swiftly chucks my t-shirt and shorts at me. “Put your clothes on.”

“Anytime today, man,” Jace’s impatient ass booms.

The chatter on the other side of the door picks up as I get dressed.

“I bet Casanova’s in there giving one of his many skanks the D,” Cole declares.

Jace laughs dryly. “Probably.”

A surge of anger rushes through me and I charge for the door, determined to give my two asshole brothers a piece of my mind.

Oakley’s toned arm wraps around my waist, tugging me back. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe,” I hiss. “But you know what I’m not? A skank—”

He slams his hand over my mouth and points to the window on the opposite side of the room. “I’ll deal with them. You crawl out there.”

I do a double take because I must not have heard him correctly. He can’t possibly expect me to crawl out a damn window. “Seriously?”

He pops the screen off. “It’s gonna look suspect as fuck when they come inside and realize you’re here.” His face falls and he looks so freaking cute right now my belly does a little flip. “If they find out about us—”

“They won’t,” I whisper, swiping my pinky through his. “Pinky promise.”

My heart stops when I realize what I did.

Liam.

I’m not sure what to make of his expression when he looks down at our adjoined pinkies. “Thanks for having my back.”

Pushing down my emotions, I gesture for him to give me a boost so I can climb outside.

I’m about to heave myself out the window, but he halts me. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

A jolt runs through me when he brushes his nose against the curve of my ear. “Be ready at eight tomorrow night.”

I raise a brow. “Ready for what?”

A smug grin creeps along his mouth. “I’m taking you out on a date.”

The smell of fresh baked zeppole hits my nostrils as I blink up at the flashing lights and various game stands surrounding us. “You brought me to a carnival.”

After stuffing me full of mint chip ice cream at my favorite spot, I figured he’d take me out to dinner, or maybe the movies…

Anywhere other than this place.

It’s obvious Oakley doesn’t know me like I thought he did, because I don’t do carnivals.

The rides—wild death traps they are—remind me of the car accident that killed my mom.

However, I don’t want him to think I’m a coward, so I simply gesture to my outfit and say, “I’m not dressed for this.”

It’s not exactly a lie. I chose a cute, short black summer dress and my favorite deep purple crop jacket to pair with it.

Oakley doesn’t look at all put off. Quite the contrary actually…it’s almost like he was expecting me to reject being here.

Leaning down, he skims the shell of my ear with his lips. The action sends warm tingles over my breasts and along my thighs.

“Baby girl.”

Closing my eyes, I soak up his addictive scent. “Yeah?”

The deep rasp of his voice rolls through me. “Stop being a pussy.”

When I look up there’s a knowing smirk on his face.

Dammit. I hate when he calls me on my shit.

I start to protest, but he grabs my hand and leads me to a zeppole stand where he promptly orders a small bag of them. “You have to have one.”

Despite them smelling like little drops of heaven, I decline. “Do you have any idea how much fat is in that? It’s like a heart attack waiting to happen.”

He takes a huge bite out of one and it takes everything in me not to lick the remaining powdered sugar off his lips. “They’re so fucking good.”

Going back for another bite, he moans around the dough and—holy hell—I have to remind myself we’re in public because I seriously want to jump his bones.

I sweep my eyes up and down his glorious body in wonder. “How do you have a body like that when you eat like crap?”

Laughing, he slaps his flat stomach. “I have a fast metabolism. I also do a hundred push-ups a night.”

That makes sense. God knows I have to work hard at maintaining my figure by not only eating healthy, but staying active.

“Come on,” he urges, holding his zeppole to my mouth. “One bite.”