17. Blake
17
BLAKE
“ A re you wearing makeup?” I stare at the woman holding the door open.
This is Kat’s house, and the person in front of me vaguely resembles Kat, but…
“So? I always wear makeup.” She bats her eyelashes.
I’m not sure she even realizes she’s doing it.
“Yeah, but not makeup like this.” I study her face.
If she always wears makeup, it’s subtle. This, though, is bolder, but not overpowering. It somehow enhances her features in a way that’s hitting me like a gut punch.
Her eyes are lined in black, the color extending beyond her lids. Her lashes are longer than usual, framing those eyes that I get lost in. Her lips are stained a dark red color, but now the peach blush staining her cheeks is more noticeable, and the full effect is enough to practically bring me to my knees.
With the dress she’s wearing, the deep teal fabric molding to her body, she looks fucking incredible.
“Do you want me to take it off?” she asks, a slight pinch to her brow.
“Hell, no,” I say, too quickly.
A smirk rises on those lips. Did they always look this kissable? My mind drifts back to that night we shared, memories of how soft and sweet they were. I’m itching to pull her to me, kiss her again, but I know better.
This is fake. And I don’t do love. Or relationships. And we made a deal.
I reach a hand out to Kat. “Ready to go?”
She sets her hand in mine. I wrap my fingers around her delicate ones as I lead her to my truck. I round the front to the passenger seat and open the door for her.
She gives me a sweet smile as she climbs in, and the unexpected reaction goes straight to my dick. Fuck, she’s perfect.
For the first time in a long time, I wish I weren’t so fucked up. That I could open myself up to a relationship without the black cloud of negativity hanging over my head. If there were ever a woman who could make me reconsider my stance, it’s Kat Fucking Milas.
I close the door softly behind her and round the truck, trying to get a grip. This is an arrangement. Nothing more.
Climbing into the driver’s side, I look over at Kat and try for a neutral topic. “How was your day?”
“It was fine. I got a lot of work done.”
“Exciting.”
She shrugs, a small smile on her face. “It feels good to be done, at least. And I did some laundry.”
“Whoa, you should have led with that. You can’t match the excitement of something like that.”
Kat laughs. I can’t get enough of the sound, the one when she’s really laughing, not just being polite. When it’s real, she throws her head back with a wide smile and lets it out.
We talk more about her thrilling afternoon while I make the short drive to the bar, and then I share some of my excitement from the day.
Spoiler—it also includes house chores. Your thirties are an exciting time.
Now that Cam, Maddox, and I have all moved to the suburbs, besides the increase in chores with home ownership, we’ve changed which bars we frequent. The ones out here tend to be more low-key, and parking is much easier.
Yeah, I heard it too. I’m old. I get it.
As we approach the entrance of McFadden’s Bar, I reach out to grab Kat’s hand.
“You nervous?” she asks, looking up at me.
A smile plays at her lips.
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Should I be?”
“I’m just looking forward to hearing what they have to say about you.” Kat gives me a playful nudge with her hip.
I pull her into me for a side hug, then let her go to open the door. “Eh, I’m not too worried.”
Cam and Maddox are good guys. They’ll keep it on the up and up.
“Blake!”
The second the door closes behind us, someone bellows my name, and I groan.
I didn’t count on Miller. I love the guy, but he’ll take pleasure in telling the most embarrassing story he can think of.
“Sorry about this,” I mutter to Kat, just as Miller comes bounding over to us, weaving through the high-top tables scattered across the main section of the pub.
“Hey, man! It’s good to see you.” He pulls me away from Kat to engulf me in a bear hug. “And this must be Kat. Nice to meet you. How can you put up with this guy?”
Kat appraises him, then she sticks out her hand. “He’s fun for now. Why, you have a better option for me?”
Miller chuckles and tucks Kat under his arm, leading her back to the table where Maddox and Cam have their arms wrapped around their girls. I trudge behind them, already regretting my decision to let Kat meet the guys.
“Did he tell you about Maddox’s wedding?” Miller asks, bringing his beer to his lips.
I scowl into my pint glass, leaning back into the cracked vinyl of the booth. This is the third story Miller has brought up, and each is more embarrassing than the last.
The worst part about this one is that I honestly don’t know what he’s about to share. I may have overindulged slightly at Maddox’s wedding. But it was the first of my best friends to get married off, and as one of his groomsmen, I spent the day throwing back beers and vodka shots. I remember drinking one glass of champagne at the reception, but beyond that, it’s a little fuzzy.
Miller stretches his arms in front of him, fingers laced, clearly getting ready to tell this story with what will likely be a dramatic flair and a gross over-exaggeration. “So, we’ve been drinking all day.”
Cam clears his throat while Addie smiles up at him.
“Except for Cam,” Miller amends. “But the rest of us. Blake is keeping up, actually having a good time. I saw him smile, even. He was almost the life of the party. If I hadn’t been there, he would have had a solid shot at the title. He holds it together through the ceremony, standing up there in his tux with the rest of us. He makes it to the reception.”
This is where my memories fail me. I cross my fingers that it isn’t too bad.
“He got into the dancing. I’m telling you, you’ve never seen moves like this. He was on fire. And then maybe on fire for real, because he must have gotten too hot.”
Oh no. A hazy memory starts to creep up. Did I…
“He took his suit jacket and his shirt off and continued to dance topless.”
Maddox rolls his eyes. Holly snorts, covering her mouth with her hand .
Kat dissolves into laughter. “Oh my God. I wish I could have seen that!”
She places her hand on my upper arm, her touch electric.
I suppose it could be worse, honestly. I never would have danced at all, let alone topless, if I’d been in my right mind. But it’s not like I hit on someone inappropriate or threw up, or in some other way ruined the wedding.
“Oh, it gets better.”
Hold up. There’s more?
Miller looks gleeful as he continues to ruin my life. “He did the worm, then hit on Maddox’s mom and offered to show her his worm.”
What? That doesn’t sound like me, even if I was completely blitzed.
Kat has one eyebrow raised, as though she’s doubting the validity of this story. “Really?”
Miller’s lips twitch. “Well, he did take his shirt off.”
I’m going to murder him. Not tonight, though.
Instead, I brush my lips against Kat’s ear, needing to regain some control here. “You play your cards right, you might get to see me topless again sometime.”
“That a promise?” she asks, her lips twisted in a smirk.
“Hey, think we can get him to do the same thing at Cam’s wedding?” Maddox says, his mouth against Holly’s hair.
She giggles. “I like the idea.”
“Me, too,” Addie chimes in.
Before I can open my mouth to object, Miller is getting into the idea.
“I bet we can. Anyone want to put money on it?”
Beside me, Kat stiffens, and I give her a questioning look. When she shakes her head, I lean in close again, whispering so only she can hear.
“You okay?”
A small nod. “Yeah. I just don’t like anything about gambling.” She shifts, sliding out of the booth as she raises her voice. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Be right back.”
She disappears toward the back of the pub as I’m still processing her words. She doesn’t like gambling ? I mean, sure, lots of people don’t like to gamble, or see it as a waste of money. But it seems like there’s something more to it for her, the way her body turned rigid.
“Hey, I’ll be right back.” I stand from the booth, needing to follow Kat to find out more. “And, uh, by the way, Kat doesn’t like gambling, so let’s just stay away from that topic, okay?”
I turn around quickly, but it’s not quite fast enough to catch the bewildered stares. I get it, honestly. We’ve all made a living as professional gamblers. So it’s not exactly a taboo subject. If anything, it’s our most common topic of discussion when we get together. But I don’t know what’s going on in Kat’s mind right now.
I follow her path through the dimly lit bar to the restrooms, where I lean against the wall. I only have to wait a few minutes before the door of the women’s room opens and Kat steps out, a fresh coat of lipstick applied. In the shadowy hallway, her eyes stand out even more, deep and huge and sultry.
“Hi. Blake,” she says, sounding surprised.
“Hey. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I gently grip her upper arms with my hands, steadying her. “What’s up with the gambling thing? It seemed like more than just a ‘not liking it’ situation. Want to talk about it?”
Her shoulders lift beneath my hands then fall as she blows out a breath. “Not really, but it’s not a secret. My dad was really into gambling. It got bad when I was in middle school, and then by high school, it had turned into an addiction, and it broke him.
“He got deeper into debt, and he ended up going through all of my parents’ savings. Even my college fund. They’d worked so hard to save money for my education so I could follow in his footsteps at Yale, and then…there was nothing left.
“It’s such a trigger for me. I’m sorry. Hearing about it, being around people who are into gambling, even as a joke… It’s hard for me.”
My heart twists. I’ve known too many people who’ve gone through gambling addiction. I’m well aware of how it can drag the rest of your life and your family and friends down with you. I know how important education is to Kat, how hard she’s worked to get where she is now.
“I’m sorry, babe,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her. “Thank you for telling me.”
Kat relaxes against my body. She fits so perfectly, her head right at the curve between my neck and shoulders. I slide my hand along her back.
A soft sigh escapes from her lips, the sound causing blood to drain from my head and flow straight into my cock as she presses more firmly against me.
This whole relationship may be fake, but I’m a man, not a saint. When a gorgeous woman’s body is leaning into mine, control only goes so far. And when she’s a smart, sassy woman like Kat, I forget the rules for a minute.
Tipping her chin upward just enough to meet my gaze, I lower my lips slowly toward hers, giving her time.
And fuck , when her eyes drift closed and her mouth opens slightly? I’m a fucking goner.
My lips brush gently against hers, our kisses chaste at first. I catch a hint of the Guinness she was drinking earlier.
Then it’s Kat who deepens the kiss, her lips growing firmer against mine.
I trace my tongue over the outline of her mouth, and it falls open, granting me entry. I slip my tongue inside, teasing and tasting and exploring.
Sliding my hand up her side, I reach the underside of her breast, brushing a thumb along the swell, and she moans into my mouth. I walk her forward two steps until her back is pushed up against the wall.
My fingers are itching to creep lower, to move down from the crest of her hip to her thigh, to slip down the crease where her leg meets her pelvis. I press one hand against the wall next to her head, our lips still tangled as I drag my fingers lightly down her hips.
“Hey!”
The sudden voice makes us fly apart.
I stifle a groan. “Miller, what are you doing?”
I really am going to murder him. Then I will bring him back to life so I can murder him again .
He shrugs good-naturedly. “Watching. I like to be a voyeur when I can’t be with Becs.”
We all know his girlfriend is up in New York, working hard in her final year of med school, so she couldn’t make the trip down here with Miller. He won’t shut up about it.
“Really?” Kat asks, looking far too curious about Miller’s kinks.
“Maybe. Or maybe I just had to go to the bathroom.” He steps past us and pushes the men’s room door open. “Carry on.”
Kat and I look at one another, our moment shattered.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Sorry,” she says at the same time. “That was—”
We face one another, still breathing heavily. I’m hard as a rock, my cock pressing painfully against my jeans.
“Sorry,” I say again. “I’m going to head to the men’s room. I’ll see you back at the table.”
I duck into the restroom, running away like a fucking coward, because what the hell was I thinking?
This isn’t a real relationship. We touch and we kiss only when we need to play the part.
Not in some back hallway of a bar. And a kiss sure as hell shouldn’t affect me like this.
I use the privacy of the men’s room to adjust myself, ignoring Miller, before I make my way back to the table.
When I slide into the booth next to Kat, she shifts slightly, so her thigh doesn’t press against mine, and she doesn’t meet my eyes.
I take a sip of my beer, but my stomach is in knots.
Did I just ruin everything?