“I’m getting a beer and some wings,” I tell Drew. “Want something?”
“I’ll take some…” He trails off, his gaze suddenly intensely fixated on the other side of the room. I turn, spotting Audrey with a guy I’ve never seen before. He’s tall and thin, his light brown hair slicked back, and he’s wearing a red tie with his white dress shirt, gray trousers, and dress shoes. A little dressy for this place. They take a seat in the back dining room.
I turn back to Drew. “What do you want?”
He stands, his gaze locked on Audrey and her date. “I’ll get it.”
Audrey waves over to the bar area. Drew holds a hand up in acknowledgment before realizing she’s waving at her friends. They give her a thumbs-up on her date. Drew drops his hand and abruptly takes his seat, staring resolutely at the TV.
“I’ll get enough wings to share,” I say and head over to the bar to order right by Kayla. “Hey.”
She doesn’t notice me, deep in conversation with Jenna and Sydney. I hear eLoveMatch and compatibility profile. That’s more of a relationship app. Kayla isn’t considering that, is she? I thought she just wanted a hookup. My gut churns. Now that Kayla let me off the hook, it makes me crazy thinking of her on the prowl. She should be looking for a relationship. That’s what will ultimately make her happy.
I order a beer and a large order of wings. Then I eavesdrop shamelessly. The women are whispering about Audrey’s date and the results of the compatibility profile. It must be Audrey on eLoveMatch. Some of the tension leaves my shoulders, which makes no sense. I should want Kayla to go in that direction.
Kayla suddenly turns, noticing me on her other side. “I thought I recognized that woodsy cologne. How’re you doing, Adam?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Jenna smiles at me, a knowing look in her eyes. “Hey, Adam.” Did Kayla tell her I proposed? Or that she asked me to help her out with losing her virginity?
The tips of my ears burn. “Hey.”
Sydney waves at me, also with a knowing look in her eyes. What did Kayla say?
“So Audrey’s doing eLoveMatch?” I ask Kayla.
“Yes. And she’s really making an effort to meet the right guy. Lots of first dates.” She lowers her voice. “She brings them here so one of us can check him out. We give her the thumbs up or down.”
“Just from the way the guy looks?”
“That and the way he handles himself. Does he smile, seem attentive, hold her chair out for her, that kind of thing. Audrey wants a man who enjoys reading and has fine manners. I don’t think that’s such a difficult wish list, do you?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” I can’t think of anyone who meets that criteria.
“There’s plenty of literate men who have manners,” she says. “I used to meet guys like that in school all the time.”
That’s not me. She wanted me. “But that’s not what’s on your wish list.”
She raises her glass of wine, hiding a smile. “Not anymore.”
Goose bumps rise on my arms and not the good kind. Please tell me she hasn’t already moved on. It’s only been three days.
The bartender, Betsy, delivers my beer and wings. She winks. “Here you go. Careful, hot stuff.”
“Thanks.” I pull some cash from my wallet, my excuse to talk to Kayla rapidly vanishing. I pay and turn to Kayla. “What’ve you been up to?”
She waves airily. “This and that. Had a good interview in the city yesterday.”
I study her for a long moment. She looks the same as always, an angelic quality to her. Sweet and wholesome. There’s no way she carried through with her plan so quickly. At the very least, she’d arrange for it on the weekend. Unless she’s working this weekend.
“Good,” I say. “What’re you doing this weekend?”
“I’m working. Sydney needs me on for the busiest times Friday and Saturday nights.”
“What about Sunday night?”
“She might be busy,” Jenna singsongs.
Kayla turns to her and laughs.
My gut churns. Jenna’s encouraging her. Kayla must’ve confided in Jenna about her so-called problem. I wish Kayla weren’t in such a hurry. This could end very badly for her.
I walk back to my table and set the wings down in the center. Then I chug half my beer.
“Slow down,” Drew says.
“Shut up.”
“Say again,” he says quietly.
I still. Drew’s three years older than me, and he’d never kick my ass, but there’s something about his quiet tone that’s just this short of lethal. You’d have to be an idiot to ignore it. “Rough day. Not you.”
He takes a wing, eyes me for a long moment, and returns his gaze to the game.
I relax. It’s not like I can talk about the Kayla problem when she’s sitting right there. Though I’m sure if I told Drew about it, he’d say if I’m not doing anything about it, then it’s not my business. But he doesn’t understand our friendship. Friends don’t let friends have bad first sexual experiences. God, I wish I could stop obsessing about this.
I dig into the wings and watch the game, my ears perked for any conversational tidbit from Kayla’s direction that seems relevant. I’m just looking out for her.
Mostly she’s talking to her friends, something about the Fierce trilogy movies. I need to stop spying on her. She’s fine. Movies can’t hurt her.
“Thank you!” she calls, holding up her wineglass to the two guys in their thirties at the end of the bar. They’re teachers from the high school.
Jenna gestures them over.
No.
Next thing I know, the guys are blocking my view, one standing next to Kayla, the other next to Jenna.
A fist slams on the table, startling me. I look up, and Drew gives me a head shake.
“What?” I ask with a scowl.
He leans across the table. “If you’re not going to make your move, you need to clear out. You’re way too obvious staring over there.”
I knew he’d take that stance. He’s definite, always yes or no, in or out. I don’t think he’s ever been unclear about anything in his life. “I’m not staring.”
He gives me his dead-eye look of disbelief.
I’m about to protest that Kayla is my friend, but even I don’t believe that anymore. She couldn’t get what she wanted from me, so she’s moved on. Dammit. I can’t stand to watch a guy hitting on her. “I’m going home.”
Drew lifts a hand. “Probably for the best.”
His know-it-all big-brother manner irks me. I lean across the table. “You’re not much better, spying on Audrey. Why don’t you make a move?”
His expression shutters closed. “Audrey’s confused. She doesn’t know what she wants.”
“So you’re not even going to try?”
“I was her schoolgirl crush. Nothing real.” His eyes trail over to her table and then back to the game, his jaw tight.
“Right.”
I stand, take one last look at Kayla talking enthusiastically to high school math teacher Steve Zimmer, and make my way out.
Fuck it.
I do an about-face, come up behind her, and tip her head back, leaning over her. “Hello, my sweet fiancée.”
She smiles. “Hello. I thought you left.”
“Couldn’t bear to leave you so soon.”
I gesture for Steve to step out of the way. He grumbles and backs away. I take his spot and grin at her.
“You’re bad,” she whispers.
“What? I was helping you out. What are friends for?”
“They’re not for what I hoped they were for. At least you aren’t.”
I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been thinking about that.”
Her cheeks flush pink, her brown eyes bright and eager. “You have?”
“Hello, what’s going on here?” a male voice barks from behind the bar.
I turn to face Wyatt. “Hey, Wyatt, how was your honeymoon?”
“Great, t
hanks,” he snaps, his eyes shifting from me to Kayla and back to me. “What did I miss?”
“We’re engaged,” Kayla says, holding up her ring with a laugh.
Wyatt grabs her hand and examines the ring. He whispers fiercely, “This is Paige’s ring. What kind of game are you playing? And whose idea was it?”
“Relax.” Kayla stands and glances around the bar before gesturing him closer. He leans across the bar. She whispers to him about my ex and pretending to be engaged to keep her away.
Wyatt straightens. “That’s it? Nothing else going on?”
“Nothing else,” I reassure him. At least not yet.
Kayla turns to me, a warm look in her eyes. “Just good friends.”
The blood rushes through my veins. There’s still a chance for us. I mean, to help her out.
Wait, did I just say us?
Kayla
Wyatt invited me to Sunday brunch at the 1950s diner in town. He knows how much I love waffles. It’s a cute little place behind the gas station. Across the street is a shopping plaza with a drugstore, bagel place, pizzeria, and Chinese restaurant. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Wyatt just the two of us. It’s nice that he made time for me.
He’s sporting a neatly trimmed dark beard and a deep tan from his recent honeymoon. We have similar thick dark brown hair and brown eyes. He does his usual checking in on my job search and what kind of job tasks I’m most excited to dig into at work. He’s of the opinion that you need to be jazzed about something at work to really make a difference. I do love math. Dad was a math professor at Princeton University, and I have a natural aptitude for it. I ask Wyatt all about his honeymoon in Bora Bora, and he’s happy to share tons of pictures.
Finally, just as I finish my Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream, Wyatt pins me with a hard look. “Whose idea was the fake engagement?”
“I guess it was my idea first. I asked Adam to pretend to be my fiancé at a party at my professor’s house because I knew Rob would be there.”
“Rob the asshole who left you at the altar.”
“Yes, but now I’m glad that happened. It was a bad idea. He only rushed me to elope because of my rule to wait for marriage. It seems pretty obvious now.”
“I’m glad it didn’t happen either, even though I hated seeing you suffer.”
I reach across the table and give his arm a squeeze. “Thanks. I owe you for taking me in and helping me put myself together again.”
“Anytime. I mean that. Even now that I’m married, if you need a safe place to land, the door is always open.”
My throat tightens over a lump of emotion. “Thanks, Wyatt. You’re the best brother in the world.”
He inclines his head. “So you invited Adam to play fiancé at a party, and then you decided to keep playing the game when his ex came back to town. Is that how it went?”
“Basically.”
“And how long will you be playing the fiancée game?”
“Just for the summer.”
He slices a hand through the air. “A whole summer?”
“Yeah, it’s not that big a deal.”
He presses his lips together. “Kayla.”
“What? It’s fine.”
“You can only play a game like this for so long before one of you starts believing it. And that’s probably going to be you. I don’t want to see you get hurt again. This is not a good idea. For your own sake, you should just stop.”
“But Amelia’s still in town. She regularly pops up at his place. It’s important that she knows we’re together and serious about each other.”
He taps the table. “Let’s cut to the chase. Do you see yourself being with him as an actual couple?”
I look out the window. I do have feelings for Adam, but I can’t help but think he’s not capable of more than casual yet, especially with the reminder of Amelia in town. “I don’t know.”
“That means yes. I know you, Kayla, you’re soft-hearted. This is why you have to protect yourself. Let him deal with his ex on his own.”
I let out a breath. “We’re just friends. You don’t have to worry about it, okay?”
Unfortunately, that’s the depressing truth. Sure, we’ve texted a bit over this weekend, but I had to work Friday and Saturday. Today’s Sunday, and Adam didn’t invite me to do anything. Maybe he’s happy thinking I turned down his proposal, and now we’re just going back to the way things were. Boy, that really backfired.
The waitress stops by, and Wyatt orders a coffee. I stick with water since I had coffee earlier.
My phone chimes with a text, and I pull it from my purse. “Just need to check in case it’s work.”
Adam: What’re you doing today?
My heart thumps harder.
Me: I’m having brunch with Wyatt, but I’m free after.
Adam: Is he mad about the fake-engagement stuff?
Me: He’s just looking out for me like usual.
“Do they need you at work?” Wyatt asks.
Adam: Tell him we’re just friends.
My heart sinks, even though that’s exactly what I told Wyatt already. I look up at him. “No, it’s not work.”
“Who is it? You looked happy and then sad.”
He really does know me well. He’s been looking out for me through life’s up and downs since I was seven years old. Except now I’m a full-grown woman capable of making my own mistakes and good choices alike. I’m not sure which Adam is; all I know is that I want to find out.
I text back. I’ll call you after this.
I tuck my phone back in my purse. “It’s Adam. I think he needs me to play fiancée later.”
Wyatt leans back and shakes his head at me. “Not smart. Use your brain.”
I sigh. “I’m an adult now. I can handle whatever life throws at me.”
“That doesn’t mean you do something you know isn’t good for you.”
I meet his eyes and say in a firm voice, “We’re friends, and if it leads to something more, well, I’m okay with that.”
His light brown eyes go soft. “I know you are, runt. It’s him I’m worried about.”
9
I return home to put on a new outfit—red halter top, white skirt, and heeled sandals with leather ties that wrap around my ankles. I need to shed my wholesome vibe, and this is the sexiest outfit I own. Maybe I should pick up stilettos.
With fresh determination, I head over to my Jeep and climb inside. I check my look in the mirror and fluff my hair out, attempting a sexy tousled look.
I pull out of the lot and drive around the other side of the lake and down a long street toward Adam’s place. I didn’t call. I’m just going to show up.
Once there, I look up at his well-kept two-story colonial house. This time I’m putting it all on the line. I’m going to share my growing feelings, let him know this isn’t just about sex, and it’s time we give us a chance.
Oof, oof, oof. Tank barks at me through the living room window, his big adorable head in front of the sheer curtain. Adam pulls back the curtain and looks at me too. His dark good looks in a T-shirt and jeans send a jolt through my system.
I wave, frozen in place. A small voice in my head says I should leave, and a louder voice says to shut up. Suddenly it feels like a lot more is on the line than just my V-card. My heart is thundering, as though it knows I’m about to crack open the tidy safe cage I’ve kept it hidden in.
The front door opens a moment later. Adam takes a slow perusal from my tousled hair to my halter top, skirt, all the way to my toes. He slowly lifts his head, his eyes smoldering into mine.
My breath hitches. “I came here today—”
“I know why you’re here.” And then he yanks me inside, hauling me against his body, his mouth crashing down over mine. Heat flashes through me, and an ache low in my belly says this is exactly what I need. I’m vaguely aware of the door shutting behind me. The sensations flooding my brain leave me in a rare state of complete static shutdown.
&nb
sp; His mouth gentles, sliding kiss after kiss, his warm hand cradling my cheek. So good. My nipples go tight and hard, sensation racing over my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and press close. His hands slide down my sides and over the curve of my hips and back up. His kisses are long and deep, and my body softens weakly against him.
His hand slides to my bottom, holding me to him. His scent, his taste, the deep kisses all combine to lull me into a mindless rhythm, my hips arching, seeking more.
He shifts to trail his mouth along my neck.
I catch my breath, a niggling thought entering my mind. “I’m not the wholesome girl you marry someday. I’m the kind you fuck right now.”
He mutters a curse, his gaze smoldering into mine as he unties my halter top. I think he got the message. It’s the kind of top you don’t need a bra with, and a moment later I’m completely exposed.
His lips meet mine as he caresses my breasts, his thumbs brushing back and forth across my hard nipples. Lost in sensation, my fingers clutch his shirt. A throbbing sensation I’m only fleetingly familiar with makes me dizzy with lust. He bends, his tongue tracing my nipple before he draws it into his mouth. Each tug brings an insistent throb, a pulse of raw need. I run my fingers through his hair, my knees getting weaker by the moment. By the time he switches to the other breast, I’m soaked with desire.
“I want everything,” I say. “Now. Right now.”
His mouth covers mine, silencing me with more deep kisses. I pull his shirt and then slide my hands under it. His skin is heated, the hard muscular planes of his back exciting me. He hitches up my skirt, pushes my panties out of the way, and traces me intimately.
I gasp, the sensation new for me.
He lifts his head, his eyes locking on mine for a long moment. His hand cups me but stops moving.
I grab his arm. “Don’t stop.”
He searches my expression before claiming my mouth again. His fingers stroke the shape of me, tracing up and down, sending a riot of sensation through me. I clutch his muscular arm as it flexes while he directs the action at pleasure central. My knees give out, but he’s got me, one arm banded tightly around my waist.
Dashing: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Unleashed Romance, Book 2) Page 9