Read Online The Hierarchy of Needs (The Portland Rebels #2) by Rebecca Grace Allen - Free Book Online Page B

ballroom. The rest of the club was empty. The private bar on the far end that would usually host evening cocktails was dark, the whole place rented out for them.
    Amazing, how fantastic life was when you had money.
    Jamie stopped by the entrance. The wedding gifts were stacked up on a table near it.
    “Grab as many as you can carry,” she commanded.
    Dean was too worked up to argue. It had been years since he’d pulled any kind of prank, and it was impossible to resist her sly grin. They scooped up the lot in three trips, piling them into the backseat of Jamie’s father’s car. He didn’t even know when she’d swiped the keys. Cackling as she reached the doorway, she paused to catch her breath and laid a hand on his chest.
    “Okay, now look really upset.”
    Her energy was infectious. “Like this?”
    Dean frowned, and Jamie snorted. “Not like someone just told you Santa Claus isn’t real. Like something went horribly wrong.”
    He practiced an expression of utter horror. Jamie scrunched up her nose and shrugged.
    “It’ll do.”
    Inside, she strode straight up to Kim and Sean. Jamie tugged on Sean’s sleeve.
    “I’ve got to talk to you. It’s important.”
    Sean’s eyes went wide as he took in Jamie’s solemn expression. The urgency in her voice nearly made Dean believe something awful had happened too.
    “What is it?” Kim asked.
    “It’s the gifts. I don’t know how, but someone must’ve put them on a golf cart, maybe to get them out of the way, I don’t know. Anyway, I went outside to move them into Dad’s car, and I think the cart got turned on accidentally because it’s barreling toward the water and I can’t stop it!”
    Sean’s mouth dropped open. “Are you shitting me?”
    Laughter bubbled up inside him. Dean coughed into his fist to hide it. How did she do this with a straight face?
    Jamie pointed her fingers at both of them, like she was firing off pistols. “Gotchya!”
    Kim immediately started laughing. Jamie’s brother, however, looked like he was about to throttle her.
    “You promised—”
    “I promised no pranks until after you were married. It’s after, so all bets are off, suckers.”
    Sean clenched his hands into fists. Jamie came around behind Dean, hooked her chin over his shoulder and said, “Um…run.”
    They took off together, sprinting out of the ballroom and toward the vacant bar. They crashed through a set of French doors, stopping when they reached the far end of the room.
    Dean whirled around. Sean hadn’t followed them. He wasn’t afraid of Jamie’s brother, but he didn’t want to have to take the guy out at his own wedding either.
    “I think we’re safe,” he said. Jamie was too busy laughing to hear him.
    She fell into a rounded booth in the corner and swung her legs up onto the middle of the cushion, her hands on her stomach as if it hurt to laugh. Her dress had inched up her thighs, the fabric clinging to her hips.
    Hunger clawed at Dean at the sight of her body sprawled out like that. With her legs up on the seat, her head tossed back and her smile wide, she looked so relaxed. So free. So Jamie. He stopped at the edge of the table and stared at her legs, wanting so goddamn badly to be trapped between them, to finally be buried inside her, to feel her heat and watch her mouth drop open in pleasure.
    What was he thinking? She was his friend. His friend . When was he going to get that through his skull?
    Jamie finally stopped laughing. She sighed and smiled. “That. Was. Awesome.”
    “Yeah, you’re pretty damn funny when you want to be.”
    Another giggle fizzled out of her. She looked ridiculously pleased with herself.
    “We should probably lay low for a few,” she said. “Until the rage gets out of Sean’s system.”
    “Why do you do it?” he asked. “The jokes on your brothers.”
    He’d always found her prankster nature amusing, but never understood why she did it.
    She shrugged. “Someone’s gotta take them down a peg or two. Make