The Matchmaker's Playbook(60)

“Sure thing.” I didn’t take my eyes off Blake.

“You think you can make it?” Her lips were still wet from my kiss. I had to look away before I did something stupid. Again.

“Sure.” I stood on my good leg. “I’ll just lean heavily on my badass opponent. I claim rematch by the way.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” She pressed her body up against mine as we awkwardly made our way into the house.

Lex yelled at Gabi that she picked the movie last time.

They stopped arguing when we made it into the living room.

“You guys.” Gabi scrunched up her nose. “No. Just not happening. Shower, or no couch time.”

“Gabs,” I whined. “I smell awesome. I always smell awesome. Tell ’em, Blake.”

Blake glanced up at me with guilty eyes. “You smell like . . . grass.”

“Well, you smell like . . . dirt.”

Lex burst out laughing. “Good one, man. You gonna make mud pies later or—?”

I flipped him off. “Fine, we’ll go shower.”

“Not together!” Gabi frowned.

“Don’t worry.” Blake laughed. “I’m more of an archvillain type of girl. Who wants the hero when he won’t even get her dirty?”

I stumbled against her and nearly face-planted the wall with my mouth while Lex howled with laughter.

“You got my number, baby,” Lex called, then started yelping. “Ow, stop scratching me like a damn cat!”

I suppressed a smile. Gabi had most likely attacked him with her nails. She was good with those things.

Blake went up ahead of me. I followed, hopping up one stair at a time and using the railing for help.

I purposely bumped into her once we reached the top of the stairway, and whispered in her ear, “Heroes get dirty too, sweet cheeks. It feels so good it must be bad.”

An erratic pulse beat in her neck as she leaned back against me. Like a heat-seeking missile, my mouth found it and settled there. The ragged throb against my lips gave my body vivid ideas. My mouth was just getting used to the idea of marking her when the doorbell rang.

“Ignore it,” I hissed, my teeth nipping at her neck while my mouth sucked hard. She let out a little moan, her hands blindly reaching behind her. Not that she had to reach or feel far. I was right there with her, hard, waiting, straining against my jeans just to feel her.

“Hey, is Blake here?”

It was David.

Blake froze, her hands slowly returning to her sides.
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As I slowly deflated.

And the moment was gone.

“Hey, Blake?” Gabi called up the steps. “David’s here to see you!”

I stepped out of Blake’s way, and with a voice I didn’t even recognize, I said, “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Indecision crossed her features, followed by hurt, as she stepped away from me and ran down the stairs.

“What the hell am I doing?” I muttered under my breath, aching for her touch. And not just for the release.

For her.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The bastard stayed for the movie. Best part? Because of my leg, I couldn’t really maneuver myself in between them, and because my job was technically to bow out and let him have the girl once he passed the last few stages, I was stuck anyway.

At least his excuse was better this time.

He was asking her out.

Technically, it was a dinner date with him and his dad. Apparently, they all went way back. If I had to hear one more story about how Blake and David built their own damn tree house, I was going to shit a brick and knock him out with it.

So far, I hadn’t noticed any sly movements from him. He didn’t glare at me, didn’t flip me off again. If anything, he was trying to be too nice. Something wasn’t quite right, but it took me a while to put my finger on it.

Befriending the enemy.

I knew it well.

Because in the end, it would prove to the girl that the guy wasn’t really jealous anymore, he just wanted her happiness above all else, blah, blah, mother-effing blah.

And the real catch? No matter the girl, she always—and I do mean always—believed the guy she was after, because he seemed to be the one who practiced more self-control, whereas my job had always been to push that control so that the girl got noticed. True colors are very rarely shown during the courting phase—I knew that better than anyone. He was putting his best foot forward, capitalizing on whatever weaknesses he saw in me.

I had never cared until now.

Now it just seemed unfair that by being good at my job, I was losing someone I really liked.

“I’m going to make some popcorn.” I stood.

“But your leg,” Blake said.

At least she was still concerned. Though she didn’t stand to join me, so I wasn’t sure how far that concern stretched. She was freshly showered, her mop of wet brown hair was tied into a knot on her head, and she was sporting a loose-fitting tank top that revealed way too much cleavage. Something good ol’ David noticed right away.