The Matchmaker's Replacement [Kindle in Motion] (Wingmen Inc. Book 2)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Gabs looked down at her hands, the hands she had placed against my chest. I was afraid to move.

  I think she was too.

  We’d crossed a line, but this time we both were very well aware that there was no net, no going back, nothing.

  And the nothing was scary.

  Even for sluts like myself.

  Possibly scarier, because it was uncharted territory.

  “Lex,” she exhaled my name, sending shivers along my spine. “I—”

  “Stay,” I whispered.

  “What?” She blinked as if she didn’t quite hear me correctly. “Did you just ask me to—”

  I pressed a finger to her mouth. “I believe I said ‘stay,’ the same command you give a dog—not that I’m making that comparison, just giving you the word in a sentence, sort of like, ‘Spot, stay.’ Doesn’t mean the owner’s going to take advantage of Spot or that Spot has to perform sexual duties in order to stay in the doghouse. Sometimes, Gabs, a word is just a word.”

  With a rough exhale, she crawled off me. “Only you could make something so asinine sound somewhat sweet. Okay, point me to the Fortress of Solitude, and I’ll try not to sweat estrogen everywhere.”

  “Upstairs. And Gabs, I really mean it when I say . . . If you ever leave a tampon in my room, I will cut you.”

  “Aw . . .” Gabs placed her hands against her heart. “That’s just so”—she wiped a fake tear—“thoughtful.”

  “I’m a thoughtful guy.”

  “Room?”

  “Up.”

  “No . . .” Her word dripped with sarcasm.

  “Gabs, my patience? Kinda thin right now, and even though you did just get attacked, I’ve tasted you—three times. I want to taste you again. Actually, I want to slam you against the nearest sturdy object and make you scream. So either get your cute ass upstairs or take me up on my offer and start stripping.”

  She ran.

  Smart girl.

  I, however, apologized to the lower half of my body . . . because it was going to be a long, cold, blue night.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  Gabi

  I almost went back downstairs to ask which room was Lex’s, but then I remembered that Ian had a label maker and on one drunken night had labeled everything he could, including their rooms.

  Sure enough, once I was at the top of the stairs I was able to locate Lex’s room in no time. It also had a giant L on it while Ian’s had a Superman symbol, proving yet again that boys never truly grew out of those Spider-Man sheets.

  I pushed open his door and gasped.

  What the hell kind of tech psycho was he?

  Computer equipment filled the entire right half of the room. Three screens formed a little cave around one giant keyboard. Stickers covered most of the desk. His leather chair was more throne than anything, and I had to wonder, would this be where Lex sat when he finally overthrew the government?

  A bathroom was attached to his room. I quickly went in and tossed some water on my face and stared at my reflection.

  My normally honeyed skin appeared pale and lifeless, while my lips were swollen and pink. The memory of his kiss was enough to have me gripping the sink like a lifeline.

  What the heck was I doing?

  I was in his sanctum!

  And I knew how nerdy that sounded, but I was in his most private secret place, and he had invited me there, and what did that mean?

  I needed Ian.

  I needed my best friend.

  Hah, I’m sure that conversation would go just great: “Um, Ian, I’m totally in Lex’s bedroom, he kissed me twice! Eeek! I know, right? So should I crawl into his bed naked? Short-sheet the bed and say ‘gotcha’? You know, start off with a prank?” Ian would laugh, and then I’d hear a gunshot, and no more Lex.

  “Get a grip.” I pointed a finger at myself. “Stop being a girl.”

  “Damn it,” Lex said from somewhere in the room. “Has the transformation already taken place? Am I too late?”

  I slammed the bathroom door to his laughter.

  While at the same time appreciating the fact that he was treating me like he always did.

  Which meant . . .

  My shoulders slumped. Nothing. It meant nothing. It meant he was extending an olive branch.

  It meant he felt sorry for me.

  And he was sharing his bed.

  With his friend.

  My replacement Ian. That’s what Lex was turning into, and I hated him for it. I’d rather he treat me like crap again.

  Than give me hope that sharing his room actually meant something.

  “Ga-a-absssss.” Lex strung out my name. “Hurry up. I’m exhausted, and I want to do a body-cavity check before you get in bed. I don’t wanna get shanked.”

  I rolled my eyes and jerked open the door just in time for Lex to toss a large black T-shirt in my direction. “Cover yourself.”

  Normally I’d argue, but I was disgusting and I wanted to burn my uniform. The longer I stared at the short black dress with the club’s insignia on it, the sicker I felt, until I thought I was going to puke.

  With jerky movements I pulled the dress over my head and threw it on the floor, then, in a fit of anger, stomped on it. Unsatisfied, I started jumping up and down on top of it, until warm arms scooped me up into the air and carried me to the bed.

  “I think it’s dead, Gabs.”

  I didn’t know I was crying until Lex wiped away the tears streaming down my face. He still had clothes on.

  Meanwhile, I was in nothing but my bra and boy-short underwear.

  But he wasn’t looking at my boobs or anything else; he was staring at my face, which I imagined took extreme concentration on his part. I’d always known Lex to be a boob guy. Heck, he checked out a sixty-year-old grandma once.

  To reference him yet again: tits were tits.

  “You’re not staring at my boobs.”

  “Nope.” Lex’s eyes didn’t leave mine.

  “Why?”

  Eyes crinkling, he answered, “Gabs, if you want me to stare at your boobs, I will . . . But I’m not one of those guys. Never been.”

  “Huh?”

  He leaned down until our mouths nearly collided, then pulled back. “Do I really seem capable of looking and not touching?”

  “No,” I breathed out in one whoosh. “You’re handsy.”

  “Nothing wrong with a firm hand . . .” He slowly pulled away, then stood, padded over to the light switch, and flipped it off. He kept his gaze locked with mine as he made his way back over to the bed.

  I leaned on my elbows and watched while he peeled off his cotton shirt and tugged down his jeans, leaving him clad in nothing but tight Nike boxer briefs.

  My eyes widened.

  He smirked, making his way back to the bed. Taking one look at me, he grabbed every last blanket he had and started piling them on top of me.

  “Lex!” I yelled, already overheating as blanket number two was tossed in my direction. “What are you doing?”

  His answer?

  “Being a hero.”

  More blankets piled, until he was left with one sheet and I was cocooned. He proceeded to build a type of pillow fort between us, then yawned and mumbled out, “Good night.”

  “Lex,” I hissed. “Are you drunk?”

  “Nope.” Another yawn. “Shh, Gabs, it’s sleeping time.”

  “I. Can’t. Breathe.”

  He pulled one blanket away. “There. Better?”

  “How is suffocating me heroic?”

  “I’m saving your innocence while protecting my own life. Ian walks in, sees you bu
ndled up, doesn’t kill me. You wake up, innocence intact, and don’t shank me with one of your spiky heels.”

  “We aren’t in prison. There is no shanking in bed.”

  “I could make shanking hot.”

  “You would say that.”

  “Gabs?”

  “What?”

  The tense silence crackled with awareness, like we both knew an inch of movement was the only encouragement one or both of us needed.

  “Thanks for staying.”

  “Lex?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for not calling me a dude again.”

  He flopped over, his hand coming into contact with boob and about five layers of blankets. With an arrogant smile he whispered, “I always knew you were a C cup.”

  I shoved him off and pretended to be offended.

  When really . . . I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

  In my enemy’s bed.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  Gabi

  Tap, tap, tap. I shook my head in an attempt to alleviate the irritating sound. Tap, tap, tap. With a grunt, I flopped onto my stomach and put a pillow over my face.

  Silence.

  And then: tap, tap, tap. A long pause, and then another tap, tap.

  I jerked awake and glanced at the empty spot next to me, then frowned as I followed the empty spot up to the computer. Lex was sitting on his throne, probably hacking God-knows-who.

  “You’re an animal,” I rasped.

  “Gabs.” He didn’t look away from the screen. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look like hell.”

  I growled.

  “Kitty got bite?”

  “Kitty will scratch your eyes out if you say ‘kitty’ one more time.”

  Tap, tap, tap. Lex’s chair swiveled, revealing him in nothing but boxers, damn him for being so sexy. “Pussycat?”

  I threw a pillow, narrowly missing one of his computer screens.

  His eyes heated.

  “Whoops?”

  “Lex?” Ian called from the hallway.

  My eyes widened in horror, while Lex jumped to his feet. “Just give me a minute.”

  “Dude, I’ve seen you naked. I just have a quick question—” The doorknob turned.

  Lex threw the comforter over my head, jumped into bed with me, and shoved me underneath him.

  I gasped for air that wasn’t sweltering.

  It didn’t help that Lex’s firm body was plastered against mine, even though his knees were up so Ian couldn’t see the outline of his best friend.

  Why was I hiding in Lex’s bed?

  Would Ian really assume the worst?

  I thought back through Lex’s track record.

  Yeah, Lex would need to be fed through a straw for the rest of his life.

  I decided against popping up like a jack-in-the-box and shouting “surprise!” I mean, there were moments when I hated Lex, but I didn’t want his death on my conscience.

  “What’s up . . . man?” Lex asked, shifting his legs so his thighs nearly collided with my head. I pinched his ass. He jerked out a strangled cough.

  “Uh . . .” I strained to hear what came next, but apparently Ian wasn’t saying anything. I wished I could see what he was doing. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “Great,” Lex said, a little too cheerfully. The idiot sounded so guilty, I had a hard time not groaning out loud. “Did you say you had a quick question?”

  “Yes.” Ian sounded suspicious. “I just wanted to talk to you about Gabs for a minute.”

  “Or”—Lex started coughing wildly—“we could just—” Another two coughs. “Sorry, man, not feeling well.” He pounded his chest. Meanwhile, I rolled my eyes and flicked his knee.

  “Last night you said to make a decision, and I made one.”

  My ears perked up. Say what?

  “I paid Gabs’s last few days’ prorated rent, and in exactly one hour I’ll have a moving truck at her place.”

  “O-o-okay.” Lex drew it out slowly. “Did you find her somewhere closer to campus?”

  “Yeah.” It was Ian’s turn to sound guilty. “About a mile closer, and safer, and . . . cheaper.”

  “If it’s cheaper, how the hell is it safer?”

  “Bodyguards,” Ian said simply.

  “And it’s cheaper?”

  “Technically, it’s free.”

  “Huh?”

  “Anyway, just thought I’d let you know. Okay, see ya later!”

  “Wait!” Lex yelled after him. “Come back here . . . What’s the address of this glorious free place?”

  Ian didn’t answer.

  I had a bad feeling.

  I nudged Lex in what I thought was his leg but which ended up being something else completely, and he let out a low curse that Ian must have thought was directed at him, because he immediately started apologizing.

  “Look, it’s only for the next four months! We only have a bit of school left, and then we’ll help her figure something out.”

  My brain wasn’t working as fast as Lex’s, because by the time my entire body went rigid with warning, Lex yelled.

  “HERE?”

  I pinched him hard in the thigh.

  “You want her to live here?”

  “It makes sense!” Ian shouted. “And it’s already done!”

  “What the hell makes you think we can keep the peace if we live within the same house?”

  “You guys have been doing just fine,” Ian said defensively. “Even you said you were worried about her.”

  “The way you worry about a dead raccoon when you drive by it!” Lex was sweating; his legs were actually sweating. “You don’t save the raccoon, Ian! You let it go to raccoon heaven where there are shiny toys and . . . food!”

  “You got me worried, man.” Ian lowered his voice. “Look, if you are on something, there’s help.”

  “Dear God,” Lex grumbled. “It’s not . . . Fine, if you want the French and the English hanging out in the same damn territory, that blood’s on you. All on you.”

  Silence fell. What was Ian doing now? Had he left? A cough came from the doorway, so apparently not. “I hid the knives, so . . .”

  “Oh great, Ian,” snapped Lex. “Good. You removed the knives. Do you hear yourself?”

  “She’s staying. That’s final. Even you admitted something was going on, but you apparently care more about your damn computer keyboard than Gabs.”

  “Unfair!” he roared. “You know I care about her!”

  “Bullshit!”

  I rubbed my hand up Lex’s leg. He froze, and then I moved it higher, making little tiptoeing motions with my fingers. Curiosity killing the cat . . . Ugh, see? Bad omen. He’d called me a kitty, and there I was . . . exploring.

  My fingers grazed him.

  His entire body went slack.

  “Dude, did you just have a stroke?” Ian’s voice was laced with concern. “I’ve never seen a person’s face do that before.”

  “What is this hell?” Lex voiced aloud, then started rocking against my fingers. I quickly figured out what felt good and gripped harder. “Shi-i-i-it, I’m going to burn.”

  “Oh, I hid the matches too,” Ian said reassuringly.

  “Just. Great,” Lex said through clenched teeth. “That’s just . . .”

  “You look . . . strange.”

  “Go!” Lex shouted. “Just . . . I need time to . . .” He exhaled a curse. “Think.”

  The door slammed. I wasn’t sure if I should stop. My answer came when Lex pressed his hand against mine and urged me on. />
  What was I doing?

  And why did it feel good, even though he wasn’t even touching me?

  Lex’s entire body tensed as his hips bucked off the bed. He quickly grabbed the sheet and wiped off his legs, then pulled up the blanket and stared at me, his face completely flushed. His shoulders rose visibly with each gasp for breath.

  “I—” He closed his mouth and then frowned. “I—”

  “So . . .” I quickly changed the subject. “Roomies, huh?”

  He let out a groan and fell back against the pillows.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  Lex

  Twenty-four hours ago, I was a normal, sane—albeit teetering on the edge of crazy—guy. Now? Now, I was headfirst in crazyland as Gabs took the room directly across from mine.

  And, within the first hour of being in our house, glued tampons to my door.

  I responded with condoms.

  And so started the first war.

  If I had a friggin’ cannon, I would fill it with sex toys, aim, and shoot, just to see how far I could push her.

  We didn’t talk about the bed.

  We didn’t talk about that night.

  But it needed to be talked about.

  Because every damn time we brushed past each other, which had been about a million times since she’d moved in that morning, it was sheer torture. I didn’t just know what she tasted like.

  She’d stroked me until I was spent.

  Until I saw unicorns.

  And freaking waved at a leprechaun while I skipped to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, only to be jerked back to reality.

  A reality where Gabs and I still pretended we hated each other, yet . . . what? Kissed? Touched?

  Yes. The answer to your question is yes. The morphing into an actual chick was taking place, and if I suddenly woke up dickless? Yeah, let’s just say I wouldn’t be that surprised. I’d yawn, look heavenward, and say, “Carry on.”

  The only bright side to her moving in had been that she was able to quit that horrific job, since she didn’t need to pay rent.