Burn for You (Flirting with Forever Book 3)

by Amanda Bailey

  When I reach her, an anxious smile plays on my lips. I really hope Piper is not still here when I meet Sherlock4Love for the first time. “Hey, Piper. Meeting your friends tonight?” I set my bottle down on the bar and prop my ass on the edge of the stool next to hers.

  She glances at me, and takes in a deep breath through her nose. “Nope. A date.”

  Well, fuck. I wasn’t expecting that. And from the tight feeling in my chest, I guess my ego wasn’t expecting that either. “So, who’s the unlucky guy?” I’m joking. Kind of. Any dude that shows up just needs to leave. I don’t know if I can bear to watch her with someone else.

  Oh, man. I’m being a gigantic asshole. She is not mine.

  She works her jaw back and forth as she looks beyond me around the room. “No one you’d know, I don’t think.”

  I take a swallow of my beer, feeling a little … jealous. Fuck. Yep. This is jealousy rearing its ugly head. I nod and take a second swallow. And for some reason, I can’t stop the things coming from my mouth. I murmur, “I’m sure he’s a real winner, whoever he is.” I can’t help it. I don’t want her here seeing some other guy. Yes, I realize just how hypocritical that is, as I’m sitting here waiting for a date of my own. I hang my head for a second before I lift it, ready to apologize.

  Her eyes flash fire at me. “I’d like to think he’s a good guy, but sometimes people prove you wrong after all.” She chugs her drink and sets the tumbler down. She slides off her stool and turns to collect her coat.

  Dammit. I’m acting like a complete jerk, but I can’t seem to help myself. Apologize, Damon. Don’t be that guy.

  Piper turns around, sliding her arms into her coat. She presses her lips together, shaking her head. “I think I’m going to leave, Damon. I didn’t think Professor Moriarty was such a dick.” Our gazes meet and hold. It could have been seconds or minutes that we stare at each other. She blinks a few times and sadness flickers through her eyes.

  Her lip trembles, and that’s the last thing I see before she rushes toward the exit.

  Confusion wars within me.

  My brain doesn’t fully compute what she’s actually said for a full five seconds. She’s already at the door, pulling it open, when I hurl myself from the stool and jog halfway toward her. I jerk to a stop, my chest heaving. “Wait.” And then louder, “You’re Sherlock?”

  I know heads around us are turning and people are watching, wondering what the hell is transpiring right before their eyes.

  Piper pauses at the door to glance over her shoulder at me, and I question her without words if she’s who I think she is. The answer is right there, written all over her face. I inhale quickly, my eyes dropping to her pink, unsmiling lips. The knowledge that those dirty, sinful words Sherlock4Love sent me could have come from sweet Piper Mathison’s mouth does me in. The fuck?

  It hits me hard that she knew I was Prof.M. when she walked in here tonight. She’s been fucking playing me this whole time. It guts me. I can’t fucking believe she did this. She could have done any number of things, but this was really low. She played with my heart—twice over. She made me fall for her and Sherlock4Love. All for a job. But I’m the dick?

  Chapter 25

  Piper

  Not that I’d needed confirmation once I’d seen the tattoo in the photo last night, but I’m mortified when Damon calls out to me. I turn around to face him—yep, my Prof.M. is none other than Damon Madero, the very attractive thorn in my side. As I stand there staring at him, I know he understands without me ever having to say a word that it’s been me messaging him this whole time. I want to crawl into a hole and not come out for a decade.

  For the love of all that’s holy, I’d asked him to touch me. Insinuated that I’d do all sorts of wicked, filthy things to him, with him.

  And the kicker? It doesn’t matter if Prof.M. is Damon because I’d do all those same things with him, too. I’d love to. I really would. I’d wanted him despite the job issue, and now … well, everything is just one huge clusterfuck.

  His face is absolutely shell-shocked—like he’s been tossed a grenade and has no idea what to do with it. And I’m over here about to have a panic attack. What emotion is that in his eyes? Anger? Confusion? Disappointment? Maybe it’s all three. I can’t tell, and it’s sending me to a very scary place in my mind.

  I’ve had twenty-four hours to come to terms with the fact that I’ve been talking to Damon as Prof.M., to wrap my head around the fact that they are the same person. And if I’m honest with myself, a part of me had been falling for both of them this whole time. As more emotions surfaced and the relationships evolved, I’d begun to feel such tremendous guilt. But I don’t have to feel guilty anymore, do I? I’d felt almost relieved last night when I’d seen the tattoo and figured it out, but now all of that is quickly disappearing the longer this silence stretches on. His stare is disbelieving, unhappy, cold.

  I can’t take it anymore. I turn and slip out the door, walking as quickly as I can in my heeled boots on the snow-covered sidewalk. I dive into my car, start the engine, and peel away from the curb. I take the turns way too fast, and my car slips and slides toward home on the slush-covered roads.

  At my apartment complex, I park cockeyed in my space, and I’m so desperate to get inside I don’t even care. I’ve just grabbed my purse off the passenger seat when my phone buzzes inside my bag.

  Right. That’ll be the girls checking in to make sure I’m okay. I’d told them I’d text them from the restaurant. I close my eyes. I don’t even know what to say.

  With a deep breath, I exit the car and make my way up to my apartment. Somewhere on the way home, my head had begun to pound. I stop in the kitchen, drop my bag on the counter, and grab a bottle of Tylenol out of the cabinet. I swallow a few before fishing my phone out of my bag. My mind is whirring, but my heart is heavy. I wrap my arms around myself and wander back into my bedroom, climbing directly onto the bed, too mentally exhausted to change just yet.

  I manage a small smile when I see there’s been a rather lively group text going on while they were waiting for me to confirm that I’m okay.

  Quinn: Earth to Piper!

  Madison: Here we go again.

  Sophia: Piper, we need an update. You’re supposed to let us know you’re okay.

  Zoey: Maybe we should let her be. What if they’re …?

  Hadleigh: Ooh, yes. What if they are rubbing the fun bits?

  Quinn: Well, no rush, but please let us know you’re okay when you can.

  Zoey: I’m nervous for her about how Damon reacted.

  Sophia: Oh, I’m sure there will be lots for her to tell us about.

  Madison: But no rush. Not especially if there are sexy times being had.

  Hadleigh: Bow chicka wow wow!

  Oh, how I wish sexy times were being had. I’d even settle for a nice dinner with a man I think I have feelings for. This was about the last thing I’d prepared for. I thought we’d talk about it, but he was being a jerk about me being there to meet someone. To be fair, I probably could have handled telling him that I knew it was him better, too. Ugh. He’d made me so mad, though. Still, I know he likes me or he wouldn’t have kissed me. Right? So how is the fact that I’m Sherlock4Love a bad thing?

  Me: Girls, I’m afraid it didn’t go well. :(

  Sophia: Oh, no. Why?

  Quinn: What happened?

  Me: Well, first he came up to me, obviously not thinking it could possibly be me.

  Me: Then I was trying to figure out how to tell him, and I told him I was waiting for a date, hoping he’d get the hint.

  Me: Instead, he made me feel awkward about it.

  Madison: That’s weird.

  Me: It almost felt like he was jealous.

  Zoey: You were both there to meet someone.

  Hadleigh: I don’t get it, though. What happened?

  Me: I got tired of feeling insulted and told him I didn’t know Prof.M. was such a dick and took off.

  Madison: Oh, crap.
<
br />   Me: But before I could get out the door, he called out to Sherlock.

  Sophia: Oof.

  Quinn: You can say that again.

  Me: Yeah. He looked a little mad. Confused. Upset, maybe.

  Me: I’m trying to convince myself he wasn’t disappointed, but I’m doing a poor job of it.

  Zoey: Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.

  Hadleigh: :( :( I’m so upset for you.

  Me: Thanks. I think I’m going to try to sleep off a headache. I didn’t want to leave you hanging.

  There’s just one more thing I have to do before bed.

  Sherlock4Love to Prof.M.: I wish things hadn’t happened like that. That wasn’t how I’d expected the night to go.

  Chapter 26

  Damon

  I grimace as I look again at the message Sherlock4Love had sent me via Tryst. Or rather, Piper. I’m having a lot of trouble coming to terms with the idea that it’s been Piper talking dirty to me on the app all this time. It was Piper who told me she wanted to lick me all over, who’d said I make her wet with just my words, who wanted to have my hands all over her. Christ, she’d even said she wanted to suck my dick—with the disclaimer that we’d have to meet so she could be sure she actually liked me, of course. Of course. And now, knowing all of those dirty fantasies had come straight from the genius mind of Piper Mathison? Holy fuck.

  And … lift off. Great. Now I’m sitting at brunch at my mother’s dining room table with my sisters and a semi while thinking about her pink lips on my cock. I blink hard and try to shake the thoughts from my head.

  “Whoa. What the hell happened to you?” Arabella eyes me as she sits down at the dining room table.

  Normally, I enjoy brunch with my family. When I made the mistake of telling Esme and Arabella that I’d be seeing Sherlock4Love on Saturday night, they’d insisted on shifting our family meal to Sunday, wanting to hear all about it directly afterward.

  The honest truth is as much as I love my mom and sisters, I just want to go back home, crawl into my bed, and sleep the day away. I’m frickin’ exhausted.

  I grunt, dismissing her question. “Drop it, Bella.”

  Esme wanders into the room and automatically senses the tension. She quickly lowers herself into a seat.

  My sisters exchange a glance. Esme whispers, “Quick, tell us before Mom and Elena sit down.”

  I work my jaw back and forth. “Let’s just suffice it to say that the app must not keep identities as secret as they claim they do.”

  Arabella wrinkles her nose. “What? That makes no sense. They’d be out of business in no time.”

  “And maybe they will be.” I wave my hand. “I’m just irritated. This woman was somehow able to manipulate things so she knew who I was. I think she’s known it was me the whole time.”

  Esme smacks our sister on the arm lightly with the back of her hand. “He hasn’t slept—that’s what this bad mood is.”

  I roll my eyes. It’s true. I’d tossed and turned all night long, trying to figure out how she’d managed it. How she’d figured out it was me and been able to fool me like that. To think before I arrived at Giarelli’s last night, I’d had the fleeting thought to call things off with Sherlock4Love to pursue Piper and say fuck the job. Fuck everything. Just so long as I could have her.

  “And over a woman. When’s the last time that happened?” Arabella snorts loudly.

  Esme grins, shaking her head. “Like, never.”

  “Never what?” Mom comes into the dining room and sets a platter of pancakes in the middle. Elena follows with the syrup and a plateful of bacon.

  Arabella smiles. “Oh, just that we haven’t seen Damon this torn up over a woman in forever.”

  “What?” Elena sits down next to me. “Are you dating someone?” She bites her lip. “But I thought you liked Ms. Mathison.”

  I groan, ignoring her for the moment. “Can we not discuss my love life or lack of one at the table, please? It’s way too early for this.”

  Mom frowns. “Oh, boy. Somebody did you dirty.”

  “Kind of.”

  “Ms. Mathison wouldn’t do that.” Elena’s forehead creases, she’s clearly distressed.

  Esme pats her hand. “It wasn’t Ms. Mathison. It was someone he met on a dating app.”

  “But if you like Ms. Mathison, what were you doing on some dating app? That doesn’t seem fair to her, Damon.”

  And how was I supposed to know that I’d become involved with both? When I joined the app, Piper was just my infuriating coworker. The woman I liked to argue with just for the sake of it so I could see where her brilliant mind would take us. Fuck. A woman I’d respected. Trusted. And look where that’s gotten me.

  “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy. Piper is the woman from the dating app. And I did like her. But somehow, she knew it was me. It’s just one more thing she’s been doing to distract me from the promotion dangling between us.”

  How had I not seen the signs that they were the same person? No, we’ve never talked about our mutual love for the world’s favorite detective before, but looking back at all the banter we’d had back and forth on Tryst, it seems almost obvious. Somehow, I feel like I should have known.

  Mom tilts her head to the side, studying me, “I thought that was going well? You said you thought you had a good chance at it. You really think she’d find you on a dating app just to ruin your chances?”

  My elbows land on the table in front of me, my hands gripping my head in frustration. “I don’t know. It just seems too coincidental. It’s improbable that this is all just a big fluke.”

  “Well, you never know. Have you talked to her about it?”

  I sigh, sitting back in my chair. “No. I was mad. She left the restaurant we were meeting at. The guilt on her face was plain as day. I didn’t have to ask. She knew it was me.”

  Esme picks up a piece of bacon, tearing it into pieces. “Has she contacted you?”

  “She sent me one message last night. I didn’t respond. I’m not ready to. She’s been lying to me.”

  Elena looks on the verge of tears. “You should talk to her. Ms. Mathison isn’t a liar. She’s a good person.”

  I grimace. Until last night, I would have completely agreed with Elena. Now I don’t know what to think. “I know you mean well, but please drop it. I need to figure this out on my own.”

  How could Piper want the job so badly that she’d thrown aside all sense of morality? I’ve been back and forth a million times wondering how I could have missed that everything she’d done had been a ploy to get what she wants. How had she pulled it off?

  And she’s been lying to my face this whole time. Telling me she wants me via the app. Responding to my kisses and melting in my arms.

  Jesus, how far was she willing to go to get her way?

  Chapter 27

  Piper

  Damon hasn’t spoken a word to me in four days. My heart screams out for him to say something to me. Anything. Just want me for who I am. Don’t be disappointed Sherlock4Love turned out to be me. He’s ignored me here at school and hasn’t responded to a single message I’ve left him on Tryst. What is he thinking? What is going through his head? It’s taking every last bit of strength I have to get through each day knowing he’s angry with me, sitting right here beside me, but unwilling to talk things through.

  I’m quite literally at my breaking point. I can’t go on like this, day in and day out. To have come so close to everything I’ve wanted only to have it all come crashing down hurts me like nothing I’ve felt before. I don’t want it to be this way between us. I summon all the courage I have before I murmur, “Are we never speaking again?”

  Damon side-eyes me. “You want to talk?” His voice is all grit and gravel, as though he hasn’t spoken to anyone, even though I know that can’t be true.

  “Well, yeah. I don’t understand why you are so upset, so angry, that you won’t even talk to me about what happened. We’re adults. Would it hurt you to act like one?” Sue me. Af
ter four days of the brush-off, I’m not only sad, but also a tiny bit pissed off.

  At my tone, he angles his body to face me, his face rigid. “Fine. It was bad enough that you tricked me into talking to you on the app, but you know what? It occurred to me you kind of came onto me at the gym, too.”

  My mouth drops open, and I blink a few times before I can formulate a response. “I didn’t trick you in any way, and I didn’t come onto you. Not like you are saying. I responded to you, sure.”

  He groans and the sound rumbles deep in his chest. “You expect me to believe that? You started it. You came around where I was working. You watched me, waited to talk to me. And then—”

  “And then we kissed each other. Just like you told me the day after—'two sets of lips, two tongues, two bodies.’” I gesture back and forth with a pointed finger between us.

  He shakes his head, cheeks turning a deep crimson color. “You’ve always known it was me and you kept it secret. Watched as I got in deeper and deeper with you. With her. Fuck.” He scrubs his hand through his hair almost violently.

  I huff, so mad at him I want to scream. “I absolutely did not. I did no such thing. I don’t know how you could think I’d do any of that.” It pains me that he assumes I’ve been party to some sort of emotional warfare—like I’ve enjoyed toying with him. He’s making me so damn angry I’m visibly shaking. I blink back tears. I will not cry. “You’re wrong, Damon.”

  His jaw clenches. “Tell me what I’m wrong about, then.”

  “Everything. You have it all wrong.” How do I explain this to him when he’s convinced I’ve done something so cruel? I’m flustered and my words, which I’m usually so good at finding, are not coming out the way I want them to. I’m going to lose him. And I don’t know what to do to stop it. I’m a complete novice when it comes to talking to men like this. I’ve never been in this position before and it kills me, but I don’t know what to say to make things right.