For the first time since he’d met Olivia way back in psych class, he had a plan to win her.
And his plan? Well, it involved sleeping with the woman he wanted more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
Really, this might be the best idea anyone anywhere had ever had.
Ever.
Chapter Six
“This was a mistake.” Livvy sat in the corner of the burlesque club, Lena on one side and Avery on the other. She was surrounded by allies. She was safe.
Also, this was not, in fact, a war zone so perhaps she should tone down the internal melodrama.
But while it wasn’t a war zone, it came awfully close to fulfilling her worst nightmares. She was trapped in a glorified strip club watching Jessie ogle nearly naked women while cuddling Camille on his lap.
And she had to sit there and smile, and laugh, and act like this was all fine and dandy. Like she didn’t want to gouge her eyes out at the sight of them reveling in their pre-wedding glory.
And it wasn’t that she was jealous…. Okay, yeah. Maybe she was a little jealous. But it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that no one seemed fazed by the fact that they’d been dating for less than a year. They barely knew each other. They had zero in common other than their mutual friends.
Jessie was ambitious, hard-working, an overachiever to the extreme. Camille was a party girl who barely managed to pass her classes and who honestly used to talk about marrying rich so she’d never have to get a job.
Well, she supposed Jessie would be rich eventually, after the med school bills were paid off. Unless, of course, his wealthy family was footing the bill, which they probably were. Which brought her mind to another factor. His family. How were they condoning this? Jessie’s parents had adored her. They’d loved everything about her. She’d fit right in during family holidays and vacations.
But now she was out and Camille was in and they were just okay with that?
She forced her stare away from her ex and down into her drink. Of course they were okay with it. They were throwing the happy couple their dream wedding in the Hamptons, weren’t they? That didn’t exactly scream disapproving parents.
Kimmie shouted out for the happy couple to kiss and a chant rose up amongst their friends. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!
They obliged.
Ugh.
It went without saying that her circle of friends was supportive of this union—or at least they supported the open-bar party it would provide.
So it was just her then. The only one who thought this was a mistake. That Jessie was throwing his life away without a second thought. Sure, it fit into his life plan on paper. She’d known he wanted to marry right after college. But he was supposed to marry her. Everyone knew that.
Not that she wanted him anymore. Of course she didn’t. Even if he came crawling back on his hands and knees she’d never be able to take him back, not after the way he hurt her. That thought was mildly comforting, except it would have been a whole lot more satisfying if he had, in fact, come crawling back on his hands and knees.
She forced a smile as the group burst into cheers when Jessie swept Camille up into his arms and pretended to haul her off like a caveman.
Apparently everyone did not know that it was supposed to be her. She was clearly the only one who even remembered that she’d been his girlfriend for three years. Three. That was more than double the time he’d been with Camille.
She sipped her cocktail and shook her head, feeling like an alien on a strange planet.
She was so lost in her own thoughts, Kimmie’s sudden presence in front of her had her jerking upright with a start. The typically bubbly redhead was frowning at her so hard it looked like she might strain something.
Olivia swallowed her last sip. “Hey.”
Kimmie didn’t respond.
“Um…what’s up?”
Kimmie leaned down so she was shouting in her ear over the music. “Should you be drinking that?”
Olivia looked down at her drink with a frown of her own. It was a vodka cranberry, and while she had suffered some doubts over the calorie splurge—she was optimistically hoping to lose ten pounds before the wedding so she could look stunning in her dress—she sincerely hoped that wasn’t what Kimmie was referring to.
But Kimmie was still frowning at her and her drink like she was about to drink demon’s blood. A jolt of alarm shot through her. Maybe she’d seen someone slip something into her drink. She’d just read an article about how common that was. “Is there something wrong with my drink?”
Kimmie’s face scrunched up in disbelief before crossing her arms and fixing her with another glare that was so judgy she looked like a young version of Judge Judy. With raised brows she spoke loudly and clearly. “Aren’t you worried about harming the baby?”
A record player screeched to a halt.
Wait, no, that scratching sound was surely just in her head. The pulsating club music was far too loud for anyone else to have heard. In fact, maybe she hadn’t heard correctly.
But then Kimmie snatched the cocktail from her hand. “Really, Liv, I would have thought you’d be a more responsible parent.”
Olivia watched her storm off, her mouth hanging open as she tried to think of a good comeback. “But, I’m…I’m not…” She faded off once she realized that Avery and Lena were leaning in trying to figure out why Kimmie had stolen her drink.
“What’s going on?” Avery asked.
“Um…. Kimmie seems to think I’m pregnant?” She asked it as a question in the hopes that Avery might be able to clear this up. She and Kimmie were always joined at the hip, surely she would have noticed if her best friend had lost her marbles.
To her surprise, Avery let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, I heard him telling that to Darius and Owen, too, but I’m pretty sure Kimmie is the only one who fell for it.”
Olivia blinked at her friend before turning to Lena with a questioning look. Lena shrugged. “No idea what’s going on here.” Of course she didn’t. Lena barely knew anyone here but her. She’d only come for moral support. God bless Lena.
She turned back to Avery. “He who? And told them what?”
Instead of answering, Avery pointed to a booth that lined the wall behind her. Olivia’s stomach started to sink before she’d even turned around fully. She knew whom she’d find and she had a horrible feeling she knew why.
Yup. There was Drew, looking ridiculously hot and not at all out of place as he lounged nearby. When he caught her staring, he raised his glass in a mock salute and gave her a wink.
She spun back around so quickly she got dizzy.
Shit. He was here to out her. She’d been waiting for this since she’d walked away from him last weekend. He was still pissed at her, clearly. That was the only explanation for why he’d teased her like he had. The next morning she’d woken up to the cold, sobering light of day and it had all been so clear.
He’d been messing with her.
He knew the kind of affect he had on women and he’d used that to prove his point. He could have anyone. Point made.
Humiliation burned her skin as she remembered her own over-the-top, out-of-control reaction to his kiss. She’d lost her senses. She’d become a wild woman, all sensations and primal lust, and zero brain power.
Of course he’d been messing with her. He was still pissed. Hadn’t he made it clear that they weren’t friends anymore?
She’d figured it was just a matter of time before he told everyone how she’d lied about him being her date. All week she’d been a nervous wreck, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Every time her phone dinged with a text or one of their friends stopped into the bar, she was ready for the news that she’d been humiliated by her former best friend.
But maybe she’d been wrong. She’d underestimated the depths of his anger and the lengths he’d go to ensure complete and total embarrassment.
Anger started to simmer in her gut, probably a result of having been on edge
all week. All that pent-up anxiety transformed into frustration. She’d apologized, damn it. And they’d been friends once. Didn’t that count for anything?
She glanced back and saw him grinning still.
Apparently not.
She drew in a deep breath and got to her feet. Enough was enough. She wouldn’t let him toy with her any longer. She had enough emotional baggage to contend with thanks to this stupid wedding. She didn’t need her former best friend playing mind games on top of it all.
His legs were stretched out, propped up on the seat across from him, but he dropped them as she drew near. His smiled widened to the one she used to love. “Hey, mama.”
She crossed her arms and scowled down at him until she realized that she probably looked just as ridiculous as Kimmie. Dropping her arms, she sat in the seat his feet had vacated. “Why are you doing this to me?”
His smile never faltered and now that she was sitting close she blinked in surprise. Unlike last week, his gaze wasn’t filled with mockery and that unknown variable. He looked amused. And not in a mean way.
He looked…like himself.
“Doing what?” he asked, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. He was clearly suppressing a laugh and she was blown away.
He was acting like he used to around her. Almost like they were friends.
She felt her lips curve up in a tentative smile. “Why did you tell Kimmie I’m pregnant?”
He shrugged. “She had a lot of questions about why you and I were going to the wedding together. It seemed like a valid explanation. I got you knocked up so we’re in each other’s lives now, like it or not.”
Her lips parted as she struggled for air. Hell, she was struggling to keep up with this conversation. She focused on the first part, the part he skimmed over so quickly she got whiplash. “So, we’re going to the wedding together?”
What had she missed? What was going on here?
He nodded. “Of course. I couldn’t leave you hanging, could I?”
She tilted her head to the side, as if adjusting her view might help her figure out just what the hell was going on here. Not leaving her hanging sounded like something a friend would do. But they weren’t friends and never would be, he’d made that clear.
His amusement seemed to grow with every second that she sat there staring at him in confusion. “But I thought you don’t want to be friends.”
“I don’t.” He said it so quickly and so breezily it felt like a shiv to the gut. He must have seen her wince, because he added quickly, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you.”
She stared again, this time with her mouth opening and closing like a fish on the line. “You care about me,” she finally managed to repeat. “But you don’t want to be my friend.”
He sighed but never lost that look of amusement. Like he was truly enjoying himself. God, she’d missed that look.
Leaning forward slightly, he lowered his voice. “I’ve never stopped caring about you, Livvy. But I don’t think you and I can just go back to being friends as if nothing has happened.”
She hoped he couldn’t see her disappointment as she nodded, swallowing back a needy plea. Why not? That’s all she wanted. For everything to go back to the way it used to be. Being told it was an impossibility made her want to curl up in a ball and cry.
“But,” he added. “That doesn’t mean I don’t think there’s a future for us.”
She blinked several times in a row as her brain tried to process that. “How?”
He didn’t answer outright. Instead, he reached for her hand. “I’m not going to be able to see you as friend unless we get over this sexual attraction.”
Heat crept into her cheeks so quickly it made her feel like she’d caught fire. It was stupid, really. This was the guy who’d taken it upon himself to teach her virginal ass how to give a good blowjob through a creative demonstration involving a banana. She should not be blushing because he mentioned that there was sexual attraction between them.
Still, try telling that to her cheeks.
She almost tried to deny it as if he’d just accused her of something naughty. But he’d made it sound like it was mutual and her insecure brain latched on to that for all it was worth. The moment she’d left the club last week she’d started to doubt how affected he’d been. She’d been sure at first but then, after overanalyzing and replaying every moment, she’d convinced herself that she’d been the only one to lose her cool. That he’d been leading her on, manipulating her with his incredible kisses and heated touches to make her see what she’d been missing.
But now… “You think there’s sexual attraction between us?”
His brows came together as he studied her. “Were you there last week? I’m pretty sure if we hadn’t stopped when we had, the bar would have gone up in flames.”
She let out a short laugh, shocking herself as much as him. She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes before it melted into a genuine, warm grin.
Her body was doing something funny. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss. Or maybe it was seeing that smile again or the warmth in his gaze. Or maybe it was a combination of all three.
Whatever it was, her belly felt heavy with desire and her chest felt light with relief. The combination was heady, like she was sinking and floating all at once.
He’d felt it too. A little voice that came from nowhere was crowing like an idiot as the insecurities that had been eating at her all week faded away. He’d been just as into it as she’d been. It hadn’t just been her.
And he still cared about her, he said so. But he didn’t want to be her friend. So…where did that leave them?
“I think we should hook up.”
Her head snapped up as her body reacted instantaneously. Her emotions went in every direction at once. Ecstasy. Terror. Disbelief.
Desire.
“What?” It came out breathy and high-pitched but he heard her, she could tell by the way his smile turned smug and…oh hell, it was sexy.
“You heard me.”
She found herself staring at him. At his lips, to be precise. She was distantly aware that she should be giving his words some thought, but her stupid brain was mesmerized by the way his lips had turned up at the corners. “What?” she said again, less breathy but just as high-pitched.
His low laugh brought her out of her daze, enough that she could tear her eyes from his lips, at least.
“Y-you want to hook up,” she repeated. “With me?”
“No, with your sister,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Of course, with you.”
Of course. Of course? There was no of course about it. “I thought you didn’t want that anymore.”
His words from last week had stuck with her. Wanted, past tense. He’d made it pretty damn clear that he didn’t feel anything romantic for her anymore.
His eyelids were heavy and his gaze dark as he studied her. She thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes but it was there and gone before she could figure it out. He seemed to be mulling over her protest.
As far as protests went, it was a lame one. Probably because even as she tried to tell herself that she didn’t want a hookup with Drew—she just wanted his friendship back—her body was making her out to be a liar. Just the thought of kissing him again had her hot and horny. She crossed her legs, hoping to assuage the throbbing between her thighs.
It didn’t work.
She took a deep breath hoping to distract from the way her breasts were straining against her bra, practically begging to be touched.
That didn’t work either.
Her body was on autopilot. She’d lost all control the moment Drew’s lips had crushed hers last week.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in hooking up,” he said in a low, calm voice that was at total odds with the way she was feeling.
For a moment she was confused. Clearly he’d gotten over whatever emotion had compelled him to sing to her. He’d made it obvious he didn’t want anything r
omantic—
Oh. Like an idiot, it just occurred to her that for Drew there was a very big difference between not wanting anything romantic and not wanting sex. So, while he might want to hook up…
“You just don’t want anything more than that,” she finished for him. Something shifted inside her and she couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or excitement.
He didn’t say yes but his smile spoke volumes. Great. He didn’t want her as a friend or as a girlfriend. So that just left one option. “So, what…this would just be a fling?”
Even she could hear the way her voice caught on the word. She’d never done a fling. She’d been a serial monogamist since her first boyfriend sophomore year of high school. She didn’t even know how a casual situation worked.
But she was intrigued.
Shit. What? Why? Since when? Her brain went into a tailspin. Wasn’t this everything she’d always feared? Wasn’t this the very reason she’d decided she wasn’t interested in Drew in the first place?
She’d recognized his charm for what it was on day one of freshman year. He might as well have had the word “player” emblazoned on his trucker hat. She’d looked around that freshman auditorium and seen all the eyes on him. He had “it”—that nameless, enigmatic quality that made him a natural lead singer of a rock band that was on the rise.
It was the “it” that had her confident he’d be playing for sold-out stadiums in the not-too-distant future.
It was the “it” that had allowed him to sleep with half the girls in her dorm building.
She’d recognized “it” and had known right off the bat that he was not the guy for her. She’d never been tempted by one-night-stands and casual hookups. She was serious girlfriend material, and she’d always known it.
And look where that had gotten her. Sitting on the sidelines as her ex did a raunchy dance onstage at a burlesque club with his hideously pretty bride-to-be.
Drew’s gaze hadn’t moved. He was watching her. Studying her.
Maybe he could see that her breaths were coming in short gasps as an idea took root and tugged at her. Logically, this was a bad idea. Rationally speaking, this could be disastrous.
The Plus One (Starting From Zero Book 3) Page 8
