by Willow Aster
We’d already worn out the one-upping banter. From the moment I met her, I set her off with my resting bitch face alone. Add my smart mouth and hers and we’ve been a lit fuse from day one.
But that night, with her long blonde hair messier than usual and her full lips and hooded eyes … it was like the stars aligned for one sweet moment and we collided into each other like we didn’t know where one ended and the other began.
It was goddamn beautiful.
Much better than any fucking Hallmark movie I’ve ever seen.
Even my favorite—the one where the guy thinks he doesn’t want to settle down and realizes the girl of his dreams was right there all along. Bonus, she was a fantastic baker and wooed him with red velvet cupcakes, but I digress.
Emma’s luscious lips parted like the Red Sea, all but inviting me in.
And I’d been all too willing.
The kiss was beyond. We fucking levitated, it was that good. I’d tipped her head back for better access, tasting and exploring like I’d been dying to do since the first time I laid eyes on the woman. Hell, I’d imagined those cherry red lips wrapped around my dick one too many times. Her tits were pressed up against my chest, and her nipples were so hard I could feel them through my dress shirt.
Before I knew it, I was kissing my way down her neck as she moaned my name and that was all I needed to hear. I got on my knees for the woman. It took less than a minute with my mouth on her sweetness to have her yanking my hair and chanting my name like a goddamn prayer.
But it was like she returned to her senses when she came down from her high. She was still trembling when I stood back up and kissed her again. She shoved me back, eyes wide and horrified, and the rest is hate-filled history.
Until the past few interactions with her.
And that kiss last night was no less amazing than the first. More so, if that’s possible.
I’m not gonna lie—she’s messed with my head. Going cold to hot to cold like that. I didn’t realize just how much until I kissed her again.
I haven’t been on the prowl in so long. Or even wanted to go out with anyone … in an embarrassingly long time.
Which is why I put a stop to things last night.
I have a feeling since she affected me so much with that kiss all those months ago, one night with her wouldn’t be enough.
I know I should go out and meet someone else and shake it off. My dating game has always been strong and that usually does the trick.
But it was what came afterward on Thanksgiving that tilted me sideways and why I’m still reeling. We shared the hottest experience of my life on that elevator. When she pulled away and pressed the elevator stop button again—I’d pressed it to take my time with her and ensure we didn’t scare any neighbors—and it dinged to let us know we had arrived, we’d both come out of our desire-filled haze. She’d moved as far away from me as she could get in the small space, breaths still coming hard and fast. I’d adjusted my angry dick and she watched with such intent, I knew I’d have no choice but to head to my apartment to finish out this fantasy on my own. No way I was going to face my mother while my dick was straining against my zipper like a caged animal.
I’d stepped off the elevator and she did not.
“No one ever speaks of this. It never happened.” She ran her hands over her blouse, lips in a perfectly straight line, as if we hadn’t just shared the most incredible moment.
Zero emotion.
A she-devil through and through.
I nodded, pride in a puddle, just as the doors closed in my face. And this is how I knew she’d wrecked me: it hurt my feelings. Who knew anything that woman could say or do could penetrate my steel? It was news to me, I know that much.
She never came back for pie. I guess she’d already gotten all the sweetness her cold heart could handle. Meanwhile, I’ve been reliving that fantasy for months on end in my shower and my bed, and trying to shut it down in far too many other unacceptable locations.
She’s been cold to me ever since that day. The woman despises me through and through and I’d be smart to remember that. This brief interlude we’ve had toward finding peace was just that—brief and now back to the chill.
Was it a Christmas movie where the girl has a bad relationship with her mom and has a hard time trusting anyone, especially the new guy who moves in across the hall? Dammit, I wish I could remember the name of it because I need to watch it a few times, see if I can actually learn something.
If only life could be as simple as a Hallmark movie.
I go through the motions at work, my head somewhere so far from what I’m doing that I can only hope I’m doing my job right.
When I get home, the brothers and Mya are all here, settling in for football. And I have to say, despite needing my space lately, I’m glad they’re here tonight. I’ve lived in my head far too much today.
After I’ve had a couple of beers and am feeling a pleasant numbness, Mya scoots in next to me on the couch.
“Hey—so—” She leaves it hanging there and I turn to look at her, sure she’s going to let me have it for thinking sexy thoughts about her BFF.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” I say.
She laughs and scrunches her nose up in that cute way she has. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I think? But now I really want to know what you did.” She leans in a little closer to talk over the loud commercial. “Spill.”
“I was kidding,” I backtrack, “and you look like you’ve got something on your mind. You spill.”
She grins. “I don’t care what they say, Grumpy Smurf, you are all chocolatey center inside.”
Her nickname for me takes me back to Emma who has a never-ending supply of ways to express my less than cheerful disposition … although she’s switched up the grump recently with the ways she’s used ass to describe me.
“I feel like you’re buttering me up for something and I’m getting nervous.” I wave my fingers for her to get on with it.
“Well, there’s this temp at work—her name is Tabitha. She’s beautiful and smart and so nice. Emma and I just love her and we think you would be perfect together.”
“You and Emma have discussed this?” I turn to look at Mya then, reading her face for clues that she might know about what’s happened with Emma and me, but there’s only sincerity.
“Yeah, Emma thinks she’s great. Would you like to see a picture of Tabitha?” She opens the pictures on her phone and holds it up, but I’m still stuck on Emma.
“Emma hates me. Why would she want to set me up with someone great?”
Mya shakes her head, smiling. “I don’t think she hates you nearly as much as she pretends to.” She waves the phone again and I look at the girl.
She is pretty.
Everything about this screams wrong, but I find myself nodding anyway. Maybe this is just what I need. A nice, hopefully tame girl who can help me get my man-card back. I don’t think the brothers have any clue how long it’s been missing and they won’t if I have anything to say about it. And if Emma is trying to hand me off to the first girl she sees … well, I don’t need to spend another minute obsessing over Queenie Kingsley.
“Yeah?” Mya squeals when I keep nodding. “Should we do a double-date? Or do you want to go out with her alone first, double-date later?” She does a little dance, knocking into my shoulder, and I smile in spite of myself.
“Let’s all go, I guess. Just in case we don’t hit it off.”
“Oh, you will. She’s so easy to talk to, you’ll see.” Mya’s eyes are shining hopefully and I groan.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea. You’re so … invested.” But then football comes back on and I couldn’t tell you what she says after that.
I call Tabitha after work the next night. Mya’s right, the girl’s nice … if you’re into that sort of thing.
We talk about meeting at a restaurant that’s opened up just down the street, the four of us, and set the time for Saturday night before getting down to
the real shit.
“I just came out of a serious relationship,” she says. “I’m out of practice with dating.” She laughs nervously and my heart thaws a fraction.
“I’ve been in a dry spell of sorts myself,” I tell her and then glare at the ceiling. What the hell am I doing pouring my heart out to a stranger?
“That makes me feel better. This will be fun. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I am too,” I admit, and I realize I actually mean it.
I’m dying to check on Emma to see how her dinner with her mom went, but something tells me it’s best to leave the woman alone.
She’s fire and I’m water and I just keep putting her out.
Or more accurately, I’m like the gasoline that makes her explode every time I utter a word. Or fucking kiss her.
Anyway.
Enough of that.
Moving on.
Saturday night rolls around and I’m regretting my decision to do this, mostly because my brother and Mya look a little too excited about this date.
We arrive at the restaurant at the same time and Tabitha is already there. She lights up when she sees Mya and then glances up at me, smiling wide. She’s pretty, and the fact that my heart doesn’t even flicker is a good sign. I need someone steady and practical, like me. Not a human fireball.
We get situated at the table and Tabitha looks at me expectantly. She seems nervous and since Jesse and Mya are looking at their menus like it’s the best thing they’ve ever read, I step it up.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Bethany Joy Lenz?” I ask.
Her head tilts as she frowns. “Who?”
“Bethany … Five Star Christmas? A Valentine’s Match? Bottled with Love?”
Jesse cracks up. “The fuck are you saying? You pulling out Hallmark movie titles or something? It’s like you’re speaking another language.”
Tabitha giggles like Jesse’s fucking hilarious and I scowl. “I didn’t realize Gus was joining us for dinner.” That gets him to shut up. Jesse’s not usually the mouthy one in the family.
“I love Bethany Joy Lenz,” Mya jumps in. “Emma and I binged on One Tree Hill when we needed a break from studying for our law exams.”
“I’ve never heard of her,” Tabitha says.
Well, that went nowhere fast.
I decide on a burger and close my menu. When the waiter comes around, he starts with Mya.
“I’ll have the Mile-High Nachos,” she says.
He nods and looks at Tabitha and she clears her throat. “Okay.” She props her elbow on the table and points to the menu. “I’ll have the club salad, but can you have them take out the ham? And the boiled egg? Also the bacon? And if you could keep the dressing on the side, I’d appreciate it.” Her finger goes to another item and she taps it. “And then the Creamy Mushroom and Spinach Pasta with Caramelized Onions … hold the onions. And the mushrooms, please.” Her whole body shudders when she says mushrooms and we all stare at her to see if she’s having a spell or what.
“It’s mushroom and spinach pasta … are you sure you don’t want to try another pasta? Maybe this pasta that doesn’t have the mushrooms or onions?” The waiter points to another pasta and she shakes her head, smiling sweetly.
“That one doesn’t have the spinach,” she says, like that takes care of that.
The waiter makes note and then looks at me and I’m about to open my mouth to tell him what I’d like, when Tabitha speaks again.
“And would you mind taking this tea back? I asked for sweetened tea and it’s not.”
“Oh, we only have unsweetened and then you sweeten it with the sugar here.” He points at the sugar on the table.
She makes a face. “It’s just not the same.” She looks at us and laughs. “I can’t find good sweet tea anywhere in this city.”
“Maybe a Coke?” I suggest.
“Way too much sugar,” she says.
Frick me to the frickin-frackin moon and back.
Fortunately, once the food is ordered and it all comes to Tabitha’s specifications, things get a little more comfortable. Conversation flows much easier and ordering dessert is painless since Tabitha is “so full she’s about to pop.” However, a common topic keeps coming up: Joey, Tabitha’s ex.
Joey never wanted to go out.
Joey loves mojitos!
Joey’s sister is evil and stalks my Instagram account … probably so she can tell Joey all my business.
I feel like I know Joey better than I know Tabitha by the time we leave the restaurant.
Jesse suggests a drink at Mean Mug when we step out into the crisp air.
“I’m game,” I say. I look at Tabitha and she nods, smiling up at me. I’ve just decided I’m enjoying myself when I see the she-devil walking toward us.
Her eyes narrow in on me and it’s at that exact moment that Tabitha takes my hand, threading her fingers between mine. Okay then. For a second I wonder if she’s pretending I’m Joey, but I don’t want to be rude and drop her hand like a hot potato.
I don’t know if I’m imagining it, since it’s getting dark out, but there’s enough light out in front of the Mug that it almost looks as if Emma’s face turns a mottled red. Her neck too. Oh shit, I wonder if she has hives. I’m about to ask if she’s okay when she says, in a weirdly higher voice than normal, “I just had the most kickass date of my life.”
Before I can ask who the unfortunate bastard is, Mya pipes up. “I thought your date was last night. Someone else tonight?” She lifts a brow and Emma’s jaw clenches.
“No, Rocco both nights.” She glances at me and her grin is smug as her lips form their perfect sultry pout. “He is all man. Up for anything.”
Those zings land exactly where they were intended to hit—right between my chest blades and smack dab in the middle of my nutsack.
Fuck me, the girl plays so dirty.
We walk into the restaurant and Tabitha’s hand suddenly feels like a chokehold. What have I gotten myself into? She drops my hand when we get to the bar and I take a deep breath. I listen as she goes through her intense drink order, tuning out somewhere around her requesting whole mint leaves in her mojito instead of the little floaties that could get stuck in her teeth.
Emma stands on the other side of me and I lean in closer to catch her sweet strawberry vanilla concoction that always makes me hard as a rock.
Yep, never fails.
I step closer to Tabitha so I won’t be a dick to my date. Literally. And Emma’s eyes glint with an indistinguishable fire.
“Looks like you and Tabitha are hitting it off.” Her voice still sounds weird. Normally she sounds like a sex kitten without even trying, low and with a rasp that is like nails scratching down my back during the hottest sex. Tonight it’s higher and edgy, more like nails scratching down a chalkboard.
“Yeah, she’s great. Thanks for setting this up,” I tell her. Her eyebrows furrow in the center and she swallows hard. I watch her throat, mesmerized.
“You’re welcome. I knew the two of you would be perfect together.” She slams a hand down on the bar and Tabitha jumps next to me.
“You were right,” I say in Emma’s ear, just to see what she does. She shivers and my heartbeat gallops ahead of itself.
Chapter Twelve
Emma
I force myself to go on one more date with Rocco, AKA Mr. October. What the man lacks in brain cells, he appears to make up for with his impressive abs. It’s his claim to fame and that’s as deep as he goes. We’ve been out twice, and both times his body has been the focal point of conversation. The man would be donning a crop top if the guys at the firehouse wouldn’t give him shit for it. I kid you not, he told me this on date number one when he spent thirty minutes describing Ariana Grande’s risqué lace crop top that she recently wore to an event. The man takes his midsection far too seriously. I may have dozed off twice on our last date, but I’m no quitter.
And Spence Taylor looked awfully cozy with Tabitha the temp. I seet
hed the whole way home after seeing them together. It makes no sense. I wanted him to go out with her.
I also wanted to slap her obnoxiously hot pink manicured hand away from his.
I wanted to call her out for having a giant mint leaf stuck to her front tooth when she thanked me for setting her up with Spence.
Note to self: remind Allen and James to chop those leaves up. There’s no reason to have a freaking garden salad on your tooth when you go out for a cocktail.
But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was happy to see her with the green garnish covering her pearly whites. She’s too perfect. I don’t like it. And Spence is too … everything. So sexy and strong and … solemn. How long can Tabitha the temp hold his attention? She’s a temp, for God’s sake. That, by definition, means she’s got commitment issues. She’s a short-term player, not a stage-five clinger. But the way she was all nuzzled up against him seemed like she was creating a new definition to all up in his business. The way his icy eyes locked with mine—why does he have to be the one man who consumes me? He’s also the only man who can hold his own with me when it comes to witty banter, something no one else has ever been able to do.
Which brings me to exhibit A.
I stroll into Mean Mug, only to find Rocco talking to three girls, his T-shirt is hiked up to kingdom come as they take him in. I groan and make my way over to him.
“Sorry, ladies. My girl is here. This is all hers, if she wants it.” He winks at me, and it has no effect on me.
Aside from making my skin crawl.
Come on, girl. Get your head in the game.
I wanted to start dating again so I could forget about Spence Taylor.
The way he makes me want to burn everything around me down just to have one more kiss.
But somehow dating the hot, narcissistic firefighter has only managed to make it worse.
All I can think about is that horse’s ass Spence.
He’s probably halfway down the aisle already with Tabitha the temp. I’m suddenly angry at Mya for setting them up, even though I was all for it. And why the hell did she tell him it was my idea?
