by Mari Carr
“What’s so funny about that?” she asked.
“I’m sitting here, trying to convince myself this gorgeous woman sitting next to me is the tomboy who gave me a fat lip right before homecoming—”
“You can’t keep giving me shit for that. I said I was sorry. It’s not like I intentionally shot the puck at your face.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The jury is still out on whether or not that was intentional.”
He expected her to keep arguing that age-old fight, but Charley was full of surprises tonight.
“Gorgeous, huh?” she said, leaning closer, her tits mere inches from his arm.
She was flirting with him.
If he was a gentleman, he’d put the brakes on all of this.
After all, she’d just had her heart broken. He’d be a dick to take advantage of her when she was down.
He reached out and ran his fingers over her cheek. “Gorgeous,” he murmured.
She shivered in response, shifting nearer, lifting her face, and inviting him to kiss her.
Fuck it.
He’d flunked chivalry in school.
He moved toward her, their lips nearly touching when his phone rang. The sudden sound in the quiet room had both of them jerking away from each other.
Charley’s face was flushed, and he could see her breasts rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath.
He pulled his cell out of his pocket, intent on turning it off and grabbing that kiss.
Bella’s picture flashed on the screen. That was when he noticed the time.
Shit.
They were late to the reception. And Bella would continue to call to see where they were until he answered. And if he didn’t, she’d come up here to haul them both out.
“Yeah,” he said, by way of greeting as he answered the phone.
“Where are you?” Bella asked.
“Charley’s room. We were just getting reacquainted.” He gave Charley a playful wink and she giggled.
Fuck.
Had he really thought Charley wasn’t the type of woman he was attracted to?
Right now, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Mmm hmmm,” Bella hummed. “Get reacquainted down here. Where I can chaperone you.”
“Bella,” he started.
“Please, Alex,” his sister said. “I asked you to bring Charley to the reception because I care about her and I know you’d never hurt her. Prove me right on that. She just got her heart drop-kicked. What she needs tonight is a friend. Not the Alex Stone signature move of wham, bam, thank you ma’am. Besides, she’s sworn off men for a little while, a move I fully support. Got it?”
“You know, I’m not…” a dick, he started to say, but the truth was his sister was right. He’d been steering the night directly toward a one-night stand.
Charley’s brow creased and she tilted her head, curious about what Bella was saying.
He was a dick.
This was Charley Matthews, the girl next door, his sister’s best friend, the tomboy who had played harder than any other guy on their team.
She wasn’t some stranger in a bar.
The two of them had shared a pretty great childhood together. He’d be the world’s biggest asshole if he took her to his bed tonight, knowing she was vulnerable, knowing those actions would likely hurt her in the long run.
He didn’t do more than sex in a single night…or sometimes the occasional weekend if the chick was hot.
Charley deserved better than that.
“We’re on our way down,” he said, rising from the bed.
So the new game plan was the original one.
He’d take Charley to the wedding—as a friend. They’d eat, drink, dance, prove to her ex that she wasn’t crying her heart out over him, and then he’d bring her back here and say good night.
No harm.
No foul.
Seemed simple enough.
So why did he suddenly feel like he’d just face-planted against the ice?
Chapter Four
Bella had somehow managed a very effective cock block, though Charley had no idea how. And not that she’d ever tell her best friend that.
Alex was Bella’s brother, after all, and while she’d told Charley to make the most of tonight, she knew that that did not include fucking him.
More’s the pity.
Lindsey and Roger had opted for a private wedding ceremony with just their parents in attendance. That had happened earlier this afternoon, allowing them time to take pictures and relax before this blowout party.
There was a sit-down dinner planned, followed by a band and dancing. The soft strains of canned classical music drifted from the open doorway of the ballroom.
Alex hadn’t touched her since leaving her hotel room.
He’d been about to kiss her when they were sitting on the bed. She was sure of it.
So she wasn’t sure what to make of this sudden about-face of his.
They were nearly to the ballroom when Alex grasped her hand, halting their entrance.
She turned to face him and struggled to catch her breath once more as she looked at him. Her attraction to him was off the charts right now.
They’d been in each other’s space less than twenty minutes and said less than two hundred words.
She needed to get a grip on herself if she stood a snowball’s chance in hell of making it through the night without making an ass of herself.
She’d made it pretty clear she wanted him to kiss her.
And he’d pulled away.
Ben’s rejection was too fresh. She couldn’t handle it if Alex rejected her too, which drove home why she should go back to plan A.
A just-friends pity date with Alex, and then tomorrow she’d focus on getting her shit together.
“Hold on a second, Charley,” he said. “There’s something I need to do.”
“Wha—”
Alex gripped her face in his hands and kissed her.
And not some quick buss, but a real kiss, complete with open mouths, closed eyes, touching tongues, and hot breath. His big hands cupped her cheeks, turning her head slightly so he could deepen the kiss.
Was there anything hotter than a guy holding a woman’s face like some sexy movie star in a romantic comedy?
His callused fingers were gentle as he caressed her face, as if she was made of glass. No man had ever made her feel delicate, fragile, but that was how she felt now with Alex.
The word cherished drifted through her mind, even though she wasn’t usually prone to fanciful bullshit like that.
Alex pulled away first, and she had to blink a few times before the white-hot static in her brain cleared.
She’d never been kissed like that.
Never.
Fuck plan A.
Plan Fuck Alex was back in full swing.
She was two seconds away from suggesting they ditch the wedding and go back to her room, but Alex was faster.
He gave her a shit-eating grin as he wiped remnants of her lipstick from his mouth. Then, he ran his thumb over her kiss-swollen lower lip. “You look like you’ve just been properly kissed. There’s no way Ben’s not going to notice that.”
Before she could reply, he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her into the ballroom.
The kiss had been part of this so-called game plan of his. He’d only done it to make Ben jealous.
If her brain cells weren’t on system overload, short-circuiting from the kiss of the century, she might have appreciated that.
Instead, she felt the uncontrollable urge to either cry or to push Alex into a chair, straddle his lap, and dry hump herself against him until she came.
Wow.
Alex gave her a funny look and she realized she’d said “wow” aloud.
He leaned closer, his lips almost touching her ear when he said, “That was only the first of many. I plan on kissing you a lot tonight.”
“Okay,” she said stupidly.
She tried
to mentally focus, but she was still a bit light-headed.
Tequila wasn’t going to be necessary tonight. She was already drunk from one kiss.
Wasted.
Trashed.
She liked it.
Bella waved, catching their attention, as she pointed to her table. It looked like everyone else had already arrived. The only two empty seats were next to Bella and her date, Josh.
Lindsey must have done some quick last-minute fixes to the place cards.
God bless her.
Charley was almost to the table when she caught sight of Ben and Beverly. They were two tables away and Ben was definitely watching her entrance with interest.
Alex must have spotted him as well because he used the arm curled around her waist to turn her toward him, giving her another quick kiss. This one was almost chaste compared to the one in the lobby, but it still packed a punch.
He winked at her when they parted, then they joined the others at their table. She sat next to Bella, Alex claiming her other side.
Bella leaned over to them, grinning conspiratorially. “Well played, brother dear,” she said, referring to his kiss.
Then she looked more closely at Charley and her eyes narrowed for a second.
Bella knew her way too well, and while Charley tried to act nonchalant, she was pretty sure her best friend saw straight through her.
Alex had scooted his chair close to Charley’s. So close, their legs were touching from hip to knee. He wrapped his arm around the back of her seat, his fingers toying with her hair.
Alex was a big guy, burly and muscular. At five foot eleven, she was used to feeling like the Amazon in the room, but at this table, with him, she’d never felt so enveloped by a man. She almost felt tiny, and that never happened.
Bella had tried to get her to wear heels tonight with her dress, but she’d rejected the suggestion.
For one thing, she didn’t own any. Ben liked to say he was five eleven too, but if he was a smidge over five nine, she’d eat the tablecloth. For the past three years, she’d invested solely in flats because his fragile ego couldn’t quite handle a taller girlfriend.
And secondly, and probably more important, she didn’t own heels because she couldn’t walk in them. Not without risking serious injury anyway.
Put her on ice skates and she could fly.
Heels? Disaster in the making.
“How tall are you?” she asked Alex.
Alex gave her a funny look for a second, and then acted as if her off-the-wall question was normal. “Six four. Why?”
She shrugged. “I’m not used to feeling small next to a guy.”
He grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her toward him. He placed a friendly kiss on top of her head. “We fit together perfectly.”
Charley tried not to make too much of that comment, tried not to imagine how those pieces might fit together even better if they were naked and in bed.
“Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” Bella murmured, speaking only loud enough that the two of them could hear her.
“This was your idea, sis,” Alex reminded her.
Charley shot her friend an innocent look, but even she knew it fell short.
Bella narrowed her eyes in warning, though it was Alex she was looking at, not her.
The meal arrived as they made small talk with the others at their table. In addition to Bella and Josh, they dined with two married couples from their hometown. She knew Kayla and Rich from school, while Andrew and Beth were older, little more than acquaintances.
She wasn’t holding anything back like she’d done in the past year with Ben. She laughed—okay, snorted—when Josh told a joke. Alex cracked up at the sound and told her it was adorable.
She reverted back to her native language—cursing like a sailor—rather than measuring every word. Alex didn’t even seem to notice her liberal use of fuck and shit. Probably because he spoke the same language.
And rather than letting Ben get into her head with his constant reminders that she should watch what she ate so she didn’t gain weight, she stole the last roll in the basket before Alex could grab it, covering it with soft butter.
“A nice person would share that,” he said.
She gave him a funny look. “We’ve known each other since elementary school. Have you ever once used the word nice to describe me?”
He sighed. “Enjoy your roll.”
She laughed, then split it in two, offering him the smaller half.
“Tough break about the game, Alex,” Josh said when the salads arrived.
That didn’t take long.
She reached under the table and squeezed his knee, meaning the touch to be comforting. Alex caught her hand and held it there for a second before guiding it higher on his leg.
She tried to pull her hand back, blushing furiously, but Alex had a firm grip and he wasn’t letting go.
Another inch or two, and she was going to hit pay dirt, whether she wanted to or not.
Oh, who was she kidding?
She wanted to.
Sadly, Alex lifted her hand up at the last second, kissing her knuckles. She could tell from the mischief in his gaze, he enjoyed teasing her.
“If you’ll excuse me for a second,” Alex said, rising. “I think I’ll pop over to the bar for a drink. Be right back.”
They both had full glasses of wine in front of them, so she figured the shots game was on.
That was confirmed when he returned with two shot glasses of tequila.
“Hey,” Josh whined to Bella. “You said I couldn’t do shots until after dinner.”
Bella rolled her eyes, not bothering to acknowledge him. Then she rolled them again when Alex and Charley tapped the glasses together and downed them.
Neither of them winced, which told her they were on equal footing when it came to tequila.
She’d just picked up her fork to continue eating her salad, when she caught sight of Ben, looking at her. He was scowling, no doubt disgusted by what he deemed her unladylike behavior.
What a prick.
It took every ounce of restraint she had not to flip him the middle finger.
Then it occurred to her how different tonight would be if she were still with him.
She’d planned to wear a very boring, very conservative little black dress to this party, but she’d unpacked it after Ben broke things off, opting instead to wear the emerald-green wraparound maxi dress she’d bought on a whim after the release of her first book.
The thing had hung in her closet for years with the tags still on. She’d been looking for the perfect occasion to wear it, but it hadn’t come.
At least not with Ben.
Not until tonight.
Given the way Alex’s eyes kept slipping to her cleavage, she’d say he liked the plunging neckline. And more than a few times, he’d run his fingers over her bare skin, toying with the laces that crisscrossed low on her back.
She knew Alex was just playing a role, pretending he couldn’t keep his hands off her because of Bella’s request, and maybe because they’d been buddies back in school.
Buddies.
Yeah, she planned to erase that word from both of their vocabularies tonight.
“You still writing those kids’ books, Charley?” Kayla, who was sitting between Alex and her husband, Rich, asked.
She nodded, but before she could say more, Bella—who was way too old to be as into Tomboy Tess as she was—took over the conversation.
“The next book comes out in a month. Her publisher has lined up several book signings for her in the Midwest.” Bella paused and winked at her playfully. “At malls,” she added. “It’s the only surefire way to get Charley into a mall.”
“Very funny,” Charley murmured.
“The last book, Tomboy Tess Takes Down the Bully, has been on the USA TODAY bestseller list for twenty-two weeks straight,” Bella added.
“Tomboy Tess,” Alex said, his hand resting at the nape of her neck
in a very possessive, proprietary, pussy-melting way. “Autobiographical?”
Charley was used to being teased about that, and in truth, a lot of Tess’s experiences were hers.
She’d started writing the first Tess story her senior year in college. Her professor showed it to a friend he had in the publishing business, who’d claimed there were a lot of little girls out there who would definitely relate to Tess.
He’d offered her a contract, published the book, and since then, she’d discovered just how un-alone she was in this world when it came to preferring hockey skates to heels, an ice-cold PBR to wine, and Sports Illustrated to romance novels.
“Maybe a little,” she responded.
“Maybe a lot,” Bella countered. “You and I are in the books,” she said to Alex.
Charley mentally groaned, wishing Bella hadn’t confided that tidbit.
One of the reasons she’d included the next-door neighbors, twins Billy and Bonnie, was because she was one thousand percent sure Alex Stone would never pick up a Tomboy Tess book.
Now…he looked way too intrigued.
Curious.
“I’ve told you a million times, Bella. Those characters aren’t you and Alex.”
And just like the million times before, Bella dismissed her assertion as the hogwash it was.
“So this Billy,” Alex began, shifting even closer to her, something she would have thought impossible a moment earlier. If he kept drawing her deeper and deeper into his personal space, she was going to be on his lap before dessert arrived. “I’m assuming he’s the playground heartthrob? King of the ice?”
Bella gave a disgusted sniff.
There was one concession Charley had made to the editor’s requests that Bella did not agree with. “King of the pitcher’s mound,” his sister said, the words sounding as if they tasted bad to utter.
“Pitcher’s mou—” Alex frowned. “You’ve got me playing fucking baseball?”
“Billy isn’t you,” Charley insisted, praying to every god and goddess in existence that Alex never picked up one of her books and called her out for her lie. “He’s a fictional character.”
And pretty rock-solid proof that somewhere over the past eight years of cheering for Alex as he played in college and then the NHL, as well as listening to Bella’s stories about her brother’s antics from the road, her attraction to him had started waaaaay before tonight.