Make Me Lose (Bayshore, #1)

by Ember Leigh

It reminds me of that blissful period when Hazel and I called a truce at the end of junior year. How we’d play fierce bouts of tennis, pushing each other hard, only to dissolve into secretive, juicy make out sessions in the corner of the court.

You, my big city boy, and Hazel, the small-town queen.” “If Hazel gets the title of queen, then I should be the king.” “You’d have to marry her to get that title,” Mom says, squeezing my arm.

Wanna show off your great bod while checking out all the gorgeous curves of your former rival-turned-love-interest? Yeah. Get to the fucking lake.

“Yeah. She’s got this…rash…that covers her entire pubic area. Doctors still don’t know what causes it. Or if it’s contagious.” Bryce’s expression turns from disbelief to cockiness, and I think I may have shit on my own parade. “Didn’t see any rash the last time I was down there,” he delivers coolly.

“I’ll take her back.” Bryce steps forward. “We can hang out afterward. I’ll make you tomato soup.” I smirk. The thought is nice, but Bryce is clearly unaware of the fact that tomato soup makes me want to puke. Grayson must remember this detail because he says, “No. You’re too weak. And Hazel doesn’t like tomato soup.”

My fingertips brush her skin, and I meet her gaze again. Just to see if she’s on the same page as I am. To see if she feels even a fraction of this sexual tension.

“What are you trying to do?” she asks, a lazy tone to her voice. Like she’s caught somewhere between a dream and distraction. My heart hammers as my gaze drifts up the sun-kissed expanse of her thigh. Fingertips sizzling from the contact, I trace a slow, invisible pattern over her knee. I want to be honest with her. I’m trying to fucking kiss her. To reduce this tension in my chest by a fraction. To see if she’ll let me spend the rest of the evening at her side, getting lost in the past as much as the present.

I have no reason to be jealous. No reason to be angry. Yet I am. I’m so fucking jealous I could haul him off by the collar and make sure he leaves her alone for good.

I’m almost to the door when he barks out, “Hazel.” I pause, my hand on the doorknob. “What?” “Am I really wrong about this?”

I soften for a moment, and against my better judgement, I answer, “No. But you told me to make you lose.”

Hazel was my first, after all, and I’d been more nervous than this.

Fuck, at one time, I wanted her to be my princess. Maybe I still do, but in her own way. Not in the helpless, pretty princess way I’d always use as an insult against her.

before I can think twice. Before I can think better of it. She nestles back against me,

I tighten my arms around her, and she sighs. Yeah. This is Bayshore-level perfection. But this is a new type of perfect. One I didn’t realize I’d been searching for.

We start a slow stroll down the sidewalk. I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder. I’m tired from the day, but seeing Gray has given me a jolt of energy.

Our hands brush, and he takes mine in his a moment later, giving it a squeeze.

“But, uh, hello? Your mom? She’s been our number one fan since day one. We’re holding hands. She’s going to order wedding invitations during dessert.” He snorts. “Fine. I won’t hold your hand.” But he doesn’t let go.

Gray finally lets go of my hand, but he’s too late. Annette clamps her hand over her heart and tilts her head.

Gray’s fingers lace through mine. When we reach the street, he faces me, running his thumb along my jawline.

“You don’t need anyone to keep the other

When she gets within reach and is saying hi to everyone, I run my fingertips up the side of her leg. She grins down at me, and I yank her onto my lap. She settles with a giggle. “Differences have been reconciled,” Anthony jokes. “Did you tell them?” Hazel asks me in a low voice. “They already knew,” I answer her, and then press my lips to hers.

I need Hazel. GRAY: Okay, you’ve had your time. Get yr sweet ass to my house. Making you dinner tonight. HAZEL: Ugh fine. What time? GRAY: 7. And pack clothes for tomorrow.

GRAY: Bring pants from my bedroom?? PLEASE HAZEL: But those briefs really show off your quads. GRAY: Should I take off the apron too? HAZEL: No. That’s for my eyes only. GRAY: And lips. HAZEL: Stop. I’m trying to work. GRAY: My cock is for your lips, mouth, tongue, hands and eyes only.

“Exactly. And thank you for admitting I’m perfect.” His bass laugh resonates through me. “I didn’t say you were perfect.” “Oh, just my pussy, huh?” He hums with appreciation. “No, I take it back. All of you is perfect.”

“I only went with Mark What’s-His-Face because you ditched me first!” I exclaim, sitting up. He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Come on. I was head over heels for you, Hazel. It really fucking hurt when you changed your mind.”

Gray rubs my back. “I’ve thought about it a lot.” I tilt my head to look up at him. “You have? Even though we hated each other?” His smile stretches wide. “Hate is just love that got all twisted up.”

“I hate you,” I whisper to him. He grins and captures my lips in a kiss. Because he knows what I mean. “I love you too, Hazel,” he whispers back. He’s always known.

and I hop into my car for the short ride. I could have walked, but I need to be there now.

After drinking a few beers. Idiot

“I don’t want you to leave,” I wail. “Aww, you’re drunk and sad,” he teases, a dimple flashing. “Yeah. Drunk on Jamison and sad about you.” I poke his chest, wiping at my eye. I’ve probably fucked up my winged eyeliner already, but who cares? Grayson sees me pee in the morning, so there’s nothing left for us to hide.

“I mean, we plan getting to the airport like I’m taking a flight to Denmark, not to Ohio.