Friends with a Tryst

by Kris Jayne

  “In what alternate universe am I going to be out while you’re at home in comfy pajamas?”

  “Because you’re catching a man, and I’ve already caught one. Stop complaining. Have fun. You have a sexy outfit and a sexy guy and dinner reservations. Enjoy it! The beginning of a relationship is always the most exciting.”

  “Excitement? Is that why I kind of feel like throwing up?” I wished she would change her mind and be my wingwoman but knew she’d made up her mind.

  The corner of her mouth went up with her left brow. “He’s going to pass out when he sees you.”

  “Really?” Nervous flutters made me wriggle, sending flecks of dress-reflected light throughout the room.

  “Own it, Erin.” Abby high-fived me. “I’ve gotta get out of here. I need to stop by the store and buy some champagne. I love Ben, but he’s cheap as hell and I want the pricey stuff tonight.”

  With that, she blew me a kiss and danced out the door, looking proud of herself.

  I was now afraid to sit down and ruin anything, so I paced my house—not blinking or smiling and with hands held up like a hostage even though Abby had assured me the gel varnish on my nails dried an hour ago.

  Every once in a while, I’d catch a glimpse of myself. The corner of my mouth twitched every time. Not bad.

  The cool tones of the ensemble made my eyes bluer and my skin warmer. My scarlet hair sparked like a lit match. I had biceps and shoulders that balanced my boobs for once. My waist narrowed, and everything glimmered and shimmered.

  Luke had to like this. Like me. This was as pretty as I was ever going to look.

  I circled my living room and went to pee for the millionth time before squeezing back into my Spandex undergarments and smoothing my dress. How many more minutes? I checked my phone again. For all my math and science education, tuning my mind to new calculations of Luke’s arrival time added more anxiety. Mercifully, the chiming doorbell granted me brief relief.

  Pink washed my chest and arms. Panic danced in my stomach. Cancel. Cancel everything.

  But I couldn’t cancel. Luke was on my porch. More importantly, I didn’t want to cancel.

  I turned away from the fidgety woman anxiously scrutinizing me, slipped on my shoes, grabbed my purse, and toddled to the foyer.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a huff of air. Exhaling, I opened the door.

  Luke

  Goddamn.

  She was…sparkly. Her skin glowed softly like a pearl. Loose curls framed her face to show off her stellar cheekbones.

  And her dress. Goddamn. A glittery smoke show of sequins clung to her hourglass shape and threw sparks with every swing of her hips.

  “Wow. I…you are stunning.” A wide grin swept onto my face. I probably looked like an idiot, but Erin’s shoulders eased. Her nose crinkled, and she blushed.

  “Thanks. Abby deserves the credit. She was over here for hours. I don’t recognize myself.”

  “You look like you. But…” I searched her face and tried to find the words, but I landed on her red, glossy lips and lost every syllable as if I’d had a stroke. “You.”

  I made no sense.

  She nibbled at the edge of her lip. “Do you want to come in for a drink or should we go?”

  If I went inside, I’d probably do everything I could to stay in for the night. “We should head to dinner.”

  “Okay.”

  She stepped carefully to my car, and I offered my arm to steady her as she climbed in. Her dress rode up her creamy, iridescent thigh. My mouth watered.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  I released her hand and avoided looking down. Erin’s cleavage flashed at me with tiny flecks of glitter like a neon sign. BOOBS! BOOBS! BOOBS!

  “Me too. I’ve barely eaten. Make sure I get something in me before cocktails.”

  I’d love to get something in you.

  Jesus.

  I tried to settle my naughty bits down as I walked to the driver’s side of the car. Baseball. My grandmother. New York City hot dogs. My penis.

  Dammit.

  We traveled to the restaurant in awkward silence. As the hostess walked us to our table, I hoped the tension would abate with some food and normal conversation. How many meals had we shared? Hundreds?

  The circular booth didn’t help. Part of me wanted to sit closer. I kept catching a hint of Erin’s perfume, a sultry and spicy scent. The thought of nuzzling the curls behind her ear and tasting the skin of her neck made my chest pound like a jackrabbit.

  Instead, we sat so we could see each other. I trained my gaze on her face, keeping my eyes above her neckline. The bow at the base of her neck begged to be untied. That probably wouldn’t be enough, though. I bet there was a zipper, too.

  The cold bottle of Pellegrino on the table sweated like I was in my tux. I grabbed it and poured the bubbly water over a highball of ice. I’d been in her presence a little more than half an hour, and all I could do was catalog ways to undress her. Not very gentlemanly. And being a gentleman was my goal for the evening.

  As I gulped the water to cool down and regain my conversational ability, I locked into the wide-eyed expectancy in Erin’s gaze. Shit. She’d asked me a question.

  “Hmmm,” I stalled. “I have to think about that.”

  “You have to think about whether you’ve seen Grace and Frankie?”

  Why was she asking me about some random TV show?

  “I’m not sure I watched the whole thing. I’ve seen an episode or two, but I don’t think I finished the season.”

  “Oh.” Her head listed in confusion. “But doesn’t she look exactly like Jane Fonda?”

  Erin surreptitiously flicked a thumb at the table a few feet away. A well-coiffed woman with bronze blonde hair in a tight, fuchsia satin gown sipped a martini and fanned her lashes at the room. Our eyes met, and the older woman hoisted her glass and winked. I puckered my lips to suppress a smile.

  “What’s so funny?” Erin asked.

  “She’s flirting with me,” I said in a low, amused tone.

  “Hats off to her.”

  “What do you mean hats off to her? You’re sitting right here. We’re on a date.”

  Erin snickered with a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I’m being ageist, right? I should be jealous, but I kind of salute her. To be her age and fit and confident, I applaud her.”

  I glanced at the woman again, careful not to make eye contact. She had a passing acquaintance to Jane Fonda. It was mostly the hair and the hot outfit on a woman of her age.

  “She’s not Jane Fonda fit. I don’t think she’s had as much surgery as Jane Fonda. But you’re right. Good for her.”

  “Surgery or no surgery, she looks remarkable.”

  “True. They both look great, but Jane Fonda is a little more GILF-y.”

  “Really? Boy, mention her, and your face lights up.” Erin wiggled her eyebrows at me.

  “Let’s just say I still would.” I took another sip of water and smacked my lips for emphasis.

  “Oh, my God. We’re on a date—your words—and you’re talking about sleeping with another woman. I’m crushed.” She tossed her hand up and turned her head away in mock horror.

  “First of all, you brought up hot older women—not me. Second, I’m talking about a celebrity. They don’t count.”

  “Of course, they count,” she chirped, chin lifted with challenge.

  “No way. They go on a free pass list or whatever.”

  “You’re wasting a slot on your free pass list on an octogenarian?”

  “She’s not that old. Is she?”

  Erin rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point.”

  “No. I’m saying it’s not like I’d have a shot with her. This is hypothetical silliness.”

  She laughed. “If Jane Fonda saw you, you’d totally have a shot. You’re mighty handsome in your tuxedo.”

  I sighed in delight at a return to our usual silly banter and the compliment. “Finally. I was wondering
if you’d notice.”

  “I noticed,” she squeaked and took a sip of her water.

  “Do you have a celebrity you’d do?” I asked.

  “No.” Now, she fluttered her lashes at me. “I only have eyes for you because this is a date, and I’m a proper lady.”

  I cackled. “Proper?”

  “Certainly.” She dotted her napkin at the corners of her lips and gracefully spread it back across her lap.

  “Proper’s no fun.” Under the table, I ventured to tap her foot with mine. She knocked me back harder for a second before I felt it venturing up my leg. Then, her bare foot stroked up my calf to my knee.

  Thunk!

  “Ow. Jesus.” Erin winced. “This is what happens when I misbehave. I killed my knee.”

  “Are you all right?” I started to slide over, but she held up her hand.

  “Fine.” She laughed.

  “Too bad.” I leaned back in my side of the booth, jamming my hands under my thighs. My fingers itched to check her knee.

  “That I’m fine?”

  “That you didn’t get your foot a little higher. Your exploration was heading in an interesting direction.”

  Her cheeks flamed, and she used her menu to block her face. “This is going off the rails already.”

  I laughed and tried not to think about the rail in my pants.

  Chapter 10

  Erin

  Luke pulled around the circular drive in front of Alexa and Graham’s house. Streams of glammed up people—elegant couples, gaggles of women, strutting guys in polished suits—flowed into the house and around the corner toward the backyard.

  “Holy shit. This is their house party?” I tilted my head until the chill of the window met the side of my head. I pulled back. My curls needed to last longer than dinner.

  “House party means something else when you have the house they have.”

  “I never knew Alexa lived like this.”

  I’d seen Luke’s boss at the gym. Yes, she was a gorgeous former model with legs like a gazelle who benched twice her body weight, but still…damn.

  “Well, this was Graham’s house. She had her own place that she sold once she moved in with him last year.”

  “Are there always this many people?”

  “Pretty much.”

  A tap on the window prompted Luke to open his door.

  “Name?” the valet asked.

  “Luke Abrams.”

  “You’re on the priority guest list. At the end of the night, there’ll be a sign sending people down to the street to pick up their car. But you’ll pick up here. Red tickets.” He held up a square of stiff paper, then handed Luke a ticket in exchange for his key fob.

  Luke put the red slip in the inside pocket of his jacket and climbed out. I reached for the door handle on my side, and he clucked at me.

  “I’m coming around, madame.”

  “Mademoiselle. You’re aging me,” I quipped but took my hands off the door and waited. If he wanted to be gallant, I’d let him.

  The attendant leaned into the SUV to drop the ticketed key into the center console. “Happy New Year, mademoiselle,” he said and winked at me with an appreciative smile. Heat tingled my cheeks.

  “Happy New Year,” I returned as brightly as I could muster through my embarrassment.

  Luke opened my door and extended his hand.

  “Shall we?”

  I half-slid, half-rolled out of the vehicle with an iron grip on Luke’s arm. Between the dress and the shoes and my nerves, I walked up the front steps on Bambi legs.

  “I texted Alexa to let her know I was here. She said she and Graham are in the living room,” Luke said.

  He led me through the entryway, past a curved staircase, to a wide, window-lined room at the back of the house. A fire roared on one end, chasing the chill introduced by the double doors opening and closing to the back patio and lawn.

  At six feet tall, Alexa was easy to spot. Her sleek, spaghetti-strap dress flowed like a shower of champagne from the heart-shaped bodice to the sequined fringe at her knees. The pale gold set off her light caramel skin. A fluffy cloud of dark hair floated around her head. She gave ‘70s Diana Ross a run for her money.

  A handsome, chestnut-haired man stood next to her, strumming her bare back with his fingertips.

  “Is that Graham standing next to Alexa?”

  “Yeah.”

  I raised one admiring brow. “They’re winning the award for most stunning couple.”

  “Not so fast. We just got here.” Luke wound his arm around my waist. “Let’s go say hi before we lose them. This place is getting packed.”

  We started across the room, but a sharp voice interrupted our progress.

  “Oh, my God, Luke Abrams?”

  Did he groan? With the din of the party, I couldn’t be sure. “Angie.”

  “I was hoping to see you this year.” The blonde opened her toned arms in search of a hug, but Luke kept his arm fixed above my hip. She was so tan I had a hard time telling that she was white. In her heels, she was as tall as Luke, sporting a red satin minidress with a giant bow across her chest. The strapless outfit revealed a set of guns befitting the state of Texas.

  Luke pressed his hand on the small of my back as if nudging me forward, but I stayed rooted at his side. “Erin, this is Angie. I met her at the party last year and trained her for a couple of fitness events. Angie, this is my date, Erin.”

  “Oh!” The woman perused me like an evolutionary biologist taking note of a new species before flicking her mascara-spidered eyes back to Luke. “I’ve been meaning to call you to see if you wanted to do any joint training with my boot camp group. You know how the classes are always huge at the beginning of the year.” Her gaze slid over me again—down and back up—and she flashed me a grin of super-white teeth. “Luke and I are both trainers.”

  I cleared my throat. “I know Luke’s a trainer. He works at my gym.”

  “You go to the gym? Good for you.” Her voice brightened as if genuinely enthused about my life choices. I clenched my belly tighter inside the bodysuit of death I wore under my dress. Such was all the attention Angie the Hardbody had for me before she gave Luke another “fuck me” look.

  “He’s really good at what he does.”

  I smiled until my forehead tensed. “That he is.”

  Luke squeezed me closer. “Thanks. It was great seeing you, Angie, but I need to procure my lady some champagne. Happy New Year.”

  Before she could respond, the pressure from Luke’s fingers angled me toward Alexa again. I glanced back to see Angie harrumphing with a hand on her hip.

  “Old friend?” I asked.

  “No. Last year…” His voice trailed off. “I was flying solo. It struck midnight. We kissed.”

  “That is the way to ring the New Year. And she’s definitely your type.” Insecurity creeped up my spine, but I straightened my shoulders. I should at least look confident.

  Luke faked a wretch. “God, I hope not. Now, I’m worried what you think of me.”

  “She’s ultra-fit and super…like the hair, the makeup. You’ve dated women like her before.”

  “I’ve dated all kinds of women.” Confusion threaded his voice. “She’s nice enough.” He said low in my ear, prickling my neck with hot breath. Instead of reveling in it, dogged suspicions rose up to haunt me.

  “Did you date her for long?”

  “No,” Luke thundered. “We…It was a New Year’s thing. In the spring, she was looking for someone to help her get ready for a contest, and so she called me. Just business. Real business. No funny business.”

  “She’s clearly open for business.”

  Luke stopped walking and turned me around. “I was lonely last year. I’m not this year. I’m with you.”

  My eyes slipped closed, and I leaned into him, trying to recapture the high from earlier. He dropped his lips to my cheek and hovered. “With you is where I want to be. It’s where I would have rather been last year. Where I
’ve always wanted to be.”

  Before I assimilated this gem of information, Alexa found us and waved, excusing herself and Graham and walking over.

  “Luke! Erin!”

  She gave each of us a quick hug. “Erin, this is Graham.”

  I shook his outstretched hand. “Thanks so much for the invitation. This is phenomenal.”

  “Thanks for coming. I’m glad you and Luke made it.”

  I surveyed the crowd. “I can’t believe you do this every year.”

  “Every year I’m in town. Two years ago, I went up to Dallas for New Year’s Eve. I met a very frustrating woman.” Graham gave Alexa a crooked smile.

  “Ignore him.” Alexa shook her head and elbowed him in the ribs. “Your dress is magnificent, Erin. I love the color. I realize I’ve only ever seen you in workout clothes. You clean up like a diva.”

  I pushed my hands into my thighs to still the nervous twitching starting there. A burst of anxiety swelled my chest. Luke’s eyes dipped to the region. His mouth opened, and he bit his bottom lip. Satisfaction warred with panic in my gut.

  I blew the tension away with a stuttered sigh and allowed myself to smile and take the accolades. “Thank you.”

  Speaking those two words, my ill-ease dissipated. I never let myself accept compliments. I worried about whether I looked right and whether people thought I belonged. I worried whether they were judging me, so I jumped up and judged myself first. Not tonight.

  “I bought this the other day after Luke asked me to come with him.”

  Graham wagged a finger at Luke. “You cut it close, man. When you want to land a hot date, you have to move early. Lots of competition.”

  Luke laughed. “I had to find my opening.”

  “His only competitor for tonight was a night at home in my pajamas with my own personal bottle of bubbly,” I said.

  Now, Alexa took her turn to chastise. “Pajamas? No way. You have to start the year off right.”

  “Yes, in fact, we need to find the bar and some drinks,” Luke suggested. “Is it still out back?”

  Alexa nodded. “There’s also one in the entry.”

  “Oh, we must have missed it, but let’s explore outside,” I said.