Avoiding Temptation

by Van Dyken, Rachel

  “You!” I raised my hand and then glared. “You’re the best friend!”

  His grin was slow, and then he winked. “I’ll be the best friend you never knew you always wanted—needed—” he took another step “—craved.”

  “Yeah okay, Romeo.” I put my hand up. “Know your audience.”

  “That’s the problem, I know her… intimately.” His eyes flashed. “Makes the whole best friend role a bit harder to take when I know the sounds you make when you—”

  “Pizza! Go eat your pizza.” I pointed to the couch, even though I felt my entire body heat at his gaze.

  “Or else?” He laughed and then pulled out his phone. “Fine, fine. At least you feed me, best best friend ever!”

  “We aren’t best friends!” I pointed out.

  “You need me,” he just had to fire back as he jumped over the couch and started devouring another piece.

  Suddenly he was texting.

  I watched him, envious of whoever was on the other side of that text.

  And then my phone went off.

  “Hah, that’s weird—” He said without turning around. “I just sent a message to—”

  I froze.

  Slowly he turned, he was mid-chew, and then he swallowed, his eyes narrowed. “Let me see your phone.”

  “It died,” I lied. And then I bolted, straight up ran as fast as my legs could take me across the fort wall and into my room.

  Unfortunately, he was faster.

  He blocked the door. “All-state track. Now hand me your phone.”

  He held his hand out.

  Shit shit shit.

  This was not how it was supposed to happen.

  I gulped and tried sidestepping him.

  “Damn it! Could you suck at something!” I stomped my foot.

  “Oh, I suck plenty. Need a reminder of how hard?” His eyes locked onto my mouth. “Phone, Tatum.”

  “Okay, but before I hand this over…” I felt myself start to crack. “I was going to say something, and then you turned into this giant asshat in the elevator, and I figured I could, I don’t know, give you a taste of your own medicine, drive you crazy. I hadn’t totally figured out that part, but this isn’t creepy, okay? And I assumed you’d recognize my voice, I mean we talked for the initial intake, and I never held anything back, and I—”

  He turned me around and pressed me into the pillow fort, then slid his hand into my pocket and grabbed my phone, pulling it out.

  “Passcode,” he whispered, pressing his body into mine. Why did he have to feel so good even when he was clearly trying to punish me?

  I fired off my passcode.

  And I knew the minute he was in the app.

  The minute he saw the messages exchanged between him and UnluckyinLove.

  Utter silence descended.

  “Does Finn know?” he finally asked.

  “No,” I whispered. “Finn didn’t know I’d looked at his laptop during break to see who this insanely amazing guy was. It’s not my fault Finn’s password has been the same since Junior High.”

  Slater let me go.

  I was afraid to turn around.

  “Look at me,” His tone was gentle.

  Begrudgingly, I turned to face him, ready for him to say how creepy it was, ready for him to rage, instead he had this look of pity on his face that made me want to slap him.

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Tatum, it happens.”

  “Huh?”

  “This,” He pointed from himself to me and back again. “It’s only natural for you to be attracted to me after forming an emotional attachment. Chin up, kid. At least it all makes sense now!”

  I gaped. I couldn’t find words. All the ones in my head were ones a lady shouldn’t say when she’s angry. And then finally, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “It’s why we don’t date clients. They get way too attached, and we always have to remind them that it’s not real. And then they find someone they really like and realize it was a momentary infatuation.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I held up my hands. “I’m not some girl with a weird emotional attachment because you messaged me!”

  “Look, all I’m saying is it’s normal, at least now we solved why things are so tense, I basically know all your secrets, you trust me, it’s only natural for us to be attracted to each other, but now that I know, it’s done. Trust me, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to do this.”

  “You arrogant piece of—”

  He clapped a hand over my mouth. “It’s your emotions talking, all right?”

  Oh! I was going to murder him in his sleep!

  He removed his hand.

  “Could you be any more condescending?” I glared, wanting to scream.

  He handed me my phone back and shrugged. “You should go to bed.”

  “Are you—are you actually sending me to bed like a petulant child?”

  He shrugged. “Since I’m the only one acting like an adult…”

  “You son of a bitch!” I almost bared my teeth. How’s that for maturity? “You can’t just treat me like I’m one of your clients!”

  “But that’s the thing, Tatum. As of yesterday—” he held up his phone “—you are a client again. You know what that means.”

  I could see the line re-appear between us, as his eyes shuttered, his body language completely changed.

  Like I was a stranger.

  I wanted to cry.

  Yes, I had been wrong in not telling him, but I didn’t think he would pull away, or that he would play the client card.

  So, with tears in my eyes, I jerked my phone out of his hands, went into my room, and shut the door in his face.

  Chapter Nine

  Slater

  I was pissed.

  And then I saw an opening.

  A way to put much-needed distance between me and a girl I’d been helping for the past few months—a girl I knew better than my last ex—a girl who I needed to stay away from.

  I was always sad when our sessions were done. How many times had I thought to reach out to her? To say the hell with the rules?

  And now? Now that the same girl was within my reach? The temptation to pull her into my room, to kiss her sadness away, to tell her that her ex was a complete asshole and I would keep her safe—it was almost too much to bear.

  So, I lied.

  I made her feel bad.

  And I made myself look like a narcissistic dick.

  I had no other choice.

  Finn’s. Sister.

  I’d already messed up twice—a third would lead me down a path of ultimate destruction, one I wouldn’t be able to come back from. And I knew how important family was.

  God, what had I been thinking?

  His sister!

  My old client!

  Shit.

  I tossed and turned in my bed, and then I faced the door and would have sworn I could see her staring daggers through the wall and across the living room.

  Fine. Let her hate me. That was the point, wasn’t it?

  I just didn’t want to be responsible for her tears.

  I wasn’t sure how late it was when I finally succumbed to sleep, but the first thing I noticed when my eyes flickered open was the smell of bacon.

  My body moved of its own accord as I slipped on a pair of black Nike sweats and opened my door, running my hand through my messy hair, my eyes still fuzzy as I took in Tatum.

  Wearing nothing but black shorts that showed at least half her perfect ass, and a crop top that said homeboy across the front in hot pink. She had no makeup on, and her hair was in a messy bun with several escaped strands kissing her neck and shoulders.

  It was a tie between wanting to eat the bacon and eat her. I licked my lips then mentally berated myself for being such a dumbass. Push her away? I wanted to spread those legs and suck her off with my tongue, damn the bacon to hell! Someone must have told her my weakness for meat. Then again, she had no idea she was coming in first—literally. Coming.
In. First.

  Shit.

  “Lured out of sleep by bacon?” she asked without looking up as she filled a glass of orange juice and slid it over to me.

  I stared at the glass, then rubbed my eyes. “Did you put arsenic in it?”

  Her smile was alarmingly happy. “Why don’t you drink some and find out?”

  “That smile scares me.” I grabbed the juice and sniffed the top.

  She rolled her eyes. “Good grief, if I was going to hurt you, I wouldn’t just kill you dead. I’d torture you first. I watch Dateline. I’m not an amateur.”

  “Wow. Noted.” I pulled out a bar stool and took a sip of the juice then watched in utter surprise as she piled a plate high with bacon and pushed it in front of me. “Is this a peace offering?”

  “Were we at war?” She frowned.

  My eyes narrowed between the tempting bacon and her lush mouth. “Last night, you were pissed, there was pizza, lukewarm beer, and a guy named Henry who probably woke up with a turkey leg in one hand and his limp dick in the other…?”

  “Hey, no judgment. Those Disney turkey legs are legit.” She pointed a piece of bacon at me and tore some off with her teeth. “And I slept on it and decided it was my fault to begin with. I should have told you. Besides, now we can start off on the right foot, being friends who don’t touch, lick, suck, or kiss.”

  “That was a sad story.”

  “What was?”

  “The one you just told.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll make it. You are a Pleasure Pony, after all. Just find someone who needs some pleasuring, although maybe you should make sure it’s not Henry. He’s been hurt enough in the last day.”

  “I can just imagine his greasy turkey hands rubbing oil up and down, up and down.” I shivered. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

  “Turned yourself on a bit, did ya?” She joked.

  I shivered. “Sorry, but Henry holding turkey legs doesn’t really do it for me. Maybe if I was rubbing oil up and down your legs—”

  “That right there! You can’t say stuff like that anymore. Good friends don’t tell good friends they want to rub them down with oil.”

  “Maybe you’ve just been handing over your friendship to the wrong people.” I shrugged and dug into the bacon with fervor. “Besides, I can’t just turn it off. You know this. It’s best to just build up a tolerance.”

  “A Slater tolerance? Is such a thing possible?” she teased, licking her lower lip, hypnotizing me into a trance. Damn it.

  “Yes,” I found myself saying confidently. “And as much as it pains me to admit—you’re right. Plus, I mean…” I shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

  She peered around the breakfast bar and stared directly at my dick, which just happened to feel the need to twitch in response. “Yes, how hard?”

  I glared. “Please stop talking about my cock.”

  “I wasn’t talking about anything,” she said innocently and returned to her bacon. “So, what are we doing today?”

  I wracked my memories from the day before. Had I promised to do something with her? Had I made plans in my sleep?

  “Um…” I rested my forearms on the table. “I have class, and I’m assuming you do too.”

  “Duh,” She sighed, “I mean after class. What are we doing? Remember, you chased away my only friend yesterday, and I made you bacon this morning. Based on my current calculations, that means you owe me hang out time.”

  “Weird, I wasn’t aware this rule was in place.”

  “Oh, it’s new ever since you insulted me last night.” She tilted her head in an adorable way that had me nearly choking on my tongue.

  Shame hit hard and fast as I stood. “I’m sure I’ll think of something to do to make it up to you, Tatum.”

  She moved fast to stand in front of me.

  I tried not to stare at her mouth or her pretty blue eyes and the way they seemed to shine with absolute mischief, striking terror in my soul.

  She was a dangerous one.

  And I was never good at following the rules.

  Or letting pretty things stay untouched.

  I reached out and, in a move that was so ridiculously in the friend zone, I wanted to kill myself, playfully ruffled her hair—or what my lame ass hand could find in her messy bun.

  Was I her weird uncle now?

  Shit.

  She bit down on her lip and then backed away with a funny look on her face. “I’m gonna go get dressed, you’re welcome to eat more bacon.”

  “Yeah,” I croaked and watched her ass the entire way to her bedroom until she closed the door.

  I was already at half-mast just watching her walk.

  “No.” I shook my head and pointed at my cock. “No, off-limits, no more.”

  Awesome. I’d officially lost my shit, hadn’t I?

  With a groan, I went into my room and quickly got some clothes on, ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, because duh even guys need product, and I was still late for my least favorite class ever.

  We all had to take Senior Seminar before graduating. It was basically one giant paper, along with a huge speech and presentation.

  Thankfully, my favorite professor taught it. Kora Robinson, who just happened to be my former roommate, Leo’s fiancé.

  “Slater!” She barked out my name. “You’re late.”

  I sighed and slumped into the hard chair then tried my best to give her a killer smile—the only problem? She was stupid in love with Leo, so my smile was met with a glare that said she wasn’t going to give me special treatment even though I was going to be in the wedding.

  I sat through an hour of torture.

  And when class was done, kept sitting.

  Thinking about Tatum.

  About Finn.

  About all the lines I had jumped across and all the reasons why I needed to stay far, far away.

  Mrs. Robinson, or Kora as I called her out of class, walked over to me. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Isn’t that my line?” I grinned.

  She rolled her eyes and pulled out a chair. “Leo said Finn’s out dealing with family drama.”

  “Yup.”

  “And that he left his sister in your care.”

  “Does nobody keep secrets around here?” I wondered out loud.

  “I bet she’s pretty.”

  I groaned into my hands. “Are we playing therapist now? Should I lay down?”

  “You’re always punctual, you always pay attention in class, and today you look like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed and barely had time to even put that sad-looking beanie over your hair. Also, you never wear beanies because you have the best hair out of all the guys—”

  “Thank you—”

  “I’m not finished.”

  I sighed.

  “Having trouble keeping your hands to yourself?” she guessed.

  “Shit.” I was going to crack. “Maybe. It’s complicated. She used to be a client, Finn doesn’t know it was his sister, but I do, so now I know all her deep dark secrets, which makes me like her even more, and I may have already…” I winced. “Crossed a line?”

  “Is that a question?” She laughed.

  I banged my head on my desk and looked up. “I kissed her, not knowing it was her, Finn saw, he got pissed, said hands-off, which I was like cool bro I can keep it in my pants. Then she gave me a handjob in the shower—don’t ask—and then I felt the need to one-up her by well, let’s just say I know how many licks it takes to get to the center of her tootsie pop—and then I pissed her off, pushed her away, and now I’m somehow in the friend zone, oh right and I almost called her little slugger during breakfast, so right now? Things? Not looking so great.”

  I kept banging my head against the desk.

  “Stop hurting university property.” Kora laughed again.

  I glared at her only to earn a hard slap on the cheek. “The hell was that for!”

  “Pull yourself together! You w
ork for Wingmen. You know what you need to do. Come clean to Finn and stop going behind his back, because the sexual tension just might kill you dead, and a dead Slater is a sad Leo.”

  “Glad you’re putting me first. Thanks, Kora. See if I ever send you wine again.”

  She just laughed harder. I’d always loved her laugh, it was striking just like her. “Slater, I’m serious. Trust me, Leo would tell you the same thing. In fact, why don’t you come to dinner tonight?”

  “I have to bring Tatum, I’m on guard dog duty.”

  She winked. “Even better. I get to meet the girl that’s single-handedly caused you to lose your mind!”

  “That’s not helpful. Not even a little bit.”

  “Chin up, slugger.” More laughter as she stood. “You’ll be okay, just stop lying to your best friend, all right?”

  “Fine.” I grabbed my shit. “If he kills me, remember to burn the box.”

  “Oh God, do all of you have burn boxes under your bed?”

  “Um, doesn’t everyone?”

  “No,” she said soberly. “Not all of us are complete sexual deviants, Slater.”

  “Suuuure, Kora.” I winked. “I do know your fiancé; also, I know his Amazon password, how was that spreader bar? Was it fifty shades of—”

  “Out!” She pointed to the door. “And dinner’s at Anthony’s on the Pier.”

  “Oh good, clam chowder. That should keep my mind off things while she’s sitting next to me.”

  Kora groaned into her hands. “How are you twenty-one?”

  “Miracle. Am I right?”

  “Out,” she repeated.

  “Thanks for the talk.” I stopped at the door, turned around, and pulled her in for a hug then kissed her cheek. “You know you’re my favorite, right?”

  “Nice try.” She smiled. “Now, go to lab.”

  “Damn, do you have all your students’ schedules memorized?”

  “Only the ones I need to graduate, so I don’t have to deal with them twice.”

  “Blessed. You’d be blessed!” I chuckled and then left the classroom, with dinner and Tatum heavy on my mind.

  Chapter Ten

  Tatum

  I wasn’t sure what to expect. Slater said he’d pick me up for dinner. Apparently, I was meeting Leo’s fiancée and Leo, the other Wingmen guy who had graduated early and was working downtown as promised.