Twister: Party Games, Book 3 Read Online Free Page B

and you walk away from her like you’ve kissed the devil?”
    Lachlan’s gut churned. “Drop it, Harris.”
    “Not on your nelly, McDermott. What gives? You can’t tell me you weren’t enjoying that because I’ve seen you kiss a girl or two, and trust me, what you and Kole were doing on that third step was borderline porn. I got a semi watching and I’m afraid to say, it was impossible to miss the wood you were sporting when you bolted.”
    Hot tension sank into Lachlan’s groin. “I didn’t bolt. And why does it matter to you? You just landed yourself a top-of-the-line Mercedes SLS AMG. That’s three hundred thousand dollars worth of car. How’s that make your semi feel?”
    Mac laughed. “Harder by the second, thank you very much. Told you it was a stupid deal. Now stop deflecting and tell me what’s going on? You don’t kiss a woman like that so thoroughly and then walk away without even a backward glance.”
    “I’m Lachlan McDermott,” Lachlan snarled. “I can do whatever I like.”
    “Whoa, did you say Lachlan McDermott or Roland McDermott, because you sounded a shitload like your father just then.”
    Lachlan ground to a halt, swinging to glare at his best friend. “I am not my father, Mackenzie, and you know it. My father submerged himself in gratuitous decadence, not me. My father wasted his life with vacuous models, not me. My father—”
    “Is also the father of your half-sister, Lillian. A model. Do I need to remind you of that?”
    The wind burst from Lachlan in a sharp hiss and he slumped, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “No, you don’t.” Lifting his head, he let out a ragged sigh. “I’m sorry, Mac. I’m out of sorts tonight.”
    Mac blinked. Confused shock flashed across his face. If Lachlan wasn’t so…so…flustered, he would have laughed. Confessions of self-failing from Lachlan McDermott were rare, even around Mac. Almost as rare as confessions of self-doubt.
    Mac narrowed his eyes. “The US board meeting was rough, I take it? I told you I should have gone with you.”
    Lachlan turned and began walking again. He didn’t look at the stairs. “No. The meeting was fine. Once I assured them the editor of World News would never work for McDermott Media Corp again they calmed down. Seeing a thirty-foot image of my little sister wearing nothing but a coat of paint and a few strategically applied peacock feathers in Time Square wasn’t the highlight of the trip I have to say.”
    Mac’s responding snort was darkly disgusted. “The PETA campaign. Shot by the ever-mysterious, reclusive genius Cam . What is it with these pretentious fashion types and one-name monikers? Kole, Cam, Iman, Giselle, Valentino, Scaasi. Don’t they know we have two names for a reason? Lachlan McDermott, Mackenzie Harris. What’s so difficult about that?”
    Lachlan stopped and gave his best friend a slanted inspection. “It seems I’m not the only bear here with a sore tooth.
    Black thunder passed over Mac’s normally inscrutable poker face. “You know what I think about Lillian modeling.”
    “And I’m completely happy with it?” Lachlan started walking again. His half-sister’s party was getting louder. And rowdier. As he walked, he passed Australia’s favourite and most successful Olympic swimmer trying to pass an inflated balloon to the country’s most recently anointed soccer star with only his knees. Both were half-naked.
    “That’s not what I’m saying.” Mac hurried to keep up with him. “And stop deflecting. This conversation is about you and the woman on the stairs who is, seeing as I’m the rather chuffed new owner of a Merc SLS AMG, the model Kole.”
    Lachlan stopped, swung his stare to Mac and said, “I saw her. I kissed her. I walked away from her. Now drop it, Harris.”
    His best friend laughed, the earlier tension in his face at the mention of Lillian’s successful modeling career gone. “Sure. I’ll drop it. If you lighten up a little.”
    “I’m