Chapter 28
By the time my friends arrive, I’m no longer a gentle breeze away from coming in my pants.
Damn Robin and her fucking amazing kisses.
I should tell her to stop. Say I’ve gotten all the practice I need and I’m good.
But I’m not good. I’m so far from good.
The whole point of the kissing practice was to prepare me for when I met my person.
How do I tell Robin I’ve already found her and she’s it?
The answer: I don’t.
I can’t put this pressure on her. Not when my cousin just broke her heart, the future of her job is uncertain, and she can’t even find a rental in town if she wants to get space from me.
Only a selfish asshole would tell her she’s his soulmate in these circumstances, and I’m trying to keep from making assholery a family trait.
I’ll just be a prick instead, accepting her practice kisses because that’s all I can have of her. Kiss her until my body wants more, then lock myself in the bathroom until I can get control of myself again.
At least, I thought that could work. But now, I’m sitting across the bonfire from my fake girlfriend, and I can’t get my mind off her, no matter how much I try to focus on the guitar in my hands.
I silently hope I’m not obvious about my adoration. The group tonight consists of my coworkers Gwen, Lance, and Morgan, then Gwen’s boyfriend, Sebastian.
As I strum out the chords of a Zach Bryan song, Lance follows easily with his fiddle, weaving notes around mine. Sebastian is more hesitant on his borrowed guitar. The guy only got back into playing less than a year ago. But I’m not a snob, and Lance is chill. Neither of us judges him for the occasional awkward note. He’s getting better. Says he wants to get good enough to play at the Jam Session that happens every Friday night at Green Valley’s community center.
A few more months, and I think he’ll be ready.
A peal of laughter has my eyes searching for Robin again. Whatever Gwen just said to the mechanic set her off, and the noise of her humor is sweeter than any song I could manage. With her curls tucked behind her ear, I can see she’s slipped her hearing aid on for the night, eager to socialize.
Our eyes connect across the flames, and I feel a tug low in my gut that never goes away, but always tightens when she looks at me.
Never take your eyes off me, I want to demand.
But I stay quiet and keep on playing.
“I don’t know how you can drink cold beer when it’s close to freezing out here,” Robin announces, throwing a chiding look at the cooler I carried out earlier.
The early fall night is chill, though the roaring fire staves off the worst of the bite. Still, everyone wears thick clothes, and Morgan has a flannel blanket around her shoulders, where she lounges in her camping chair.
“Not about to drink warm beer,” I grumble.
Robin narrows her eyes at me. “You live with a former bartender. You need to learn to use me.”
Fuck. That’s exactly what I want to do.
Use her in every possible way and get used in return.
“I’m making hot toddies,” she declares, turning toward the house. “Who wants one?”
A second of hesitation, and then the music pauses as everyone raises their hand. Including me.
She smirks. “Six toasty cocktails coming up.”
I’m a bastard for focusing on the way she sounded, saying cock.
“I’ll help you carry them.” Gwen jogs after Robin, looking entirely too eager.
The two women disappear into the house.
I frown. “Should I be worried about that?”
Sebastian snorts as he studies the placement of his fingers on the strings. “Maybe. Gwen’s been dying to chat with Robin ever since you two became a thing.”
The description twists my stomach. Because I want it to be true, but I know that it isn’t.
“I like her,” Morgan says from the other side of the fire before pressing her beer to her lips.
I wait till she’s done taking a drink to hear more. But she doesn’t offer anything else.
The tattooed woman might be less talkative than me.
“Yeah,” Lance says. “She’s great. Glad she decided to hang out.”
My eyes flick to my other coworker, and I have the sudden urge to thank the universe that he’s so far from six foot. If Lance had been a handful of inches taller, he might have been the one Robin settled on for her fake boyfriend scheme.
But then maybe my guts wouldn’t be all tied up in a tangle if I was still blissfully ignorant.
I return my attention to Sebastian. “What does Gwen want to talk to her about?”
He shrugs with an easygoing smile. “Everything. Nothing. Who knows? She’s just giddy that you’re dating someone.”
“Why?” I grumble. I was doing just fine on my own before I knew Robin was my soulmate.
“’Cause she wants you to be happy, I guess?”
Does Robin make me happy?
Easy. Yes.
But she also makes me anxious. And angry. And sad. And horny.
“Let’s play,” I say.
I didn’t invite people over to chat. Small talk is not my strong suit. But drinking beer around a fire while playing music comes to me no problem.
“Time to get toasty with some toddies,” Robin calls out a few minutes later as she steps out the back door, three steaming mugs clutched in her hands.
Gwen follows directly after, loaded down with her own collection of drinks.
The two women circle the fire, passing out the beverages.
Robin hands Lance one with a smile, but before I can read too much into it, she settles on the log beside me and offers the other mug. I pause playing to accept and take a sip.
Hot booze, flavored with lemon and honey, eases down my throat and warms my belly. I take another long sip, savoring the tease of citrus.
“This is delicious,” Gwen tells Robin, smile wide, eyes glowing. “The perfect drink for this moment.”
Robin turns her satisfied smirk my way. “What do you think, Bear?”
I grunt. “Good.”
She chuckles and leans her shoulder against mine while sipping from her own mug. I notice the change in her outfit.
“You stole my sweatshirt,” I accuse without heat.
She plucks at the front of the hoodie. “I was cold. Your stuff is cozy.” When Robin tilts her chin up to meet my gaze, it’s all I can do not to lean down and taste the whiskey straight from her lips.
Like she can read the wanting in my soul, Robin presses up to place a quick kiss on my lips, coming away smirking. “Kiss attack,” she murmurs.
And I fall deeper into a pit of infatuation I fear I’ll never be able to climb out of.