The Matchmaker's Playbook

Our mouths touched.

Accidently.

But in my current state, it was enough. Like lighting a fuse, pouring gasoline on top of a roaring fire.

I leaned in.

“You sick son of a bitch,” I heard Gabi yell. “Ian, get your ass down here now!”

“Aw, hell,” I grumbled as I released Blake, tore open the door, and ran down the stairs.

Gabi was currently beating her fists into Lex’s back as he carried her around the kitchen, his eyes frantic, like he was searching for a switch to swat her with.

“Everything okay down here?” I chuckled, folding my arms across my chest as I leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh, just great,” Gabi yelled, lifting her head briefly to make eye contact before slapping his ass again.

“A little to the left.” Lex bounced her up and down. “Or if you’re feeling really frisky, I can dig a squeeze.”

“I’m killing you in your sleep!” Gabi shouted.

“What happened?” I asked Lex while Gabi started cursing.

“That’s five bucks, slut,” Lex laughed. “We’re in the kitchen!” With his free hand, he scooted the jar to the end of the counter and then heaved Gabi toward it.

“You sick bastard!”

“I take it she found out about Serena?”

“Stop”—Gabi pounded his ass again—“sticking”—another smack—“your diseased”—two hits, and Lex burst out laughing—“dick”—I winced as Lex heaved her higher over his chest, and her face suddenly smacked his ass—“in my roommates!”

Lex smirked as he locked eyes on her. “It was an accident.”

“Accident.” Gabi’s eyes were wild as she moved her hand from his ass to his balls and squeezed.

With a heave, Lex dropped her. “Damn it!” She crumpled to the floor while Lex joined her, cupping himself. “You bitch!”

“It was an accident.” Gabi shrugged.

Sighing, I went over to help Gabi to her feet. “Look at the bright side. At least now, you won’t constantly worry about him seducing her. It only took a day.”

Gabi glared at both of us.

Lex used her head to help him stand, then limped toward me. “I think it’s time to leave.”

“Wait!” Gabi stood and held out the swear jar. “Two bucks.”

“Are you shitting me?” Lex roared.

“Three.” Her face broke out into a saucy grin as she shook the jar.

My eyebrows shot up in respect as Lex let out a string of curse words, then dumped a ten-dollar bill into the jar and pinched her cheek. “I hate odd numbers.”

“Make sure you get tested at the free clinic, Lex. Who knows what you’re carrying now.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be clean before I bang you.” He winked.

She lunged again, so I pushed Lex toward the door. “Time to go, man.” I waved at Gabi. “See ya next week for lasagna!”

“You can stick your lasagna up your—”

I slammed the door on her tirade.

“Dude.” I chuckled. “You really need to learn when to stop.”

“Can’t.” Lex pushed past me. “One day I really am going to kill her. Or she’s going to kill me. Hope you don’t mind bailing your two best friends out of prison.”

“Is it really that impossible for you two to get along?”

Lex’s sour expression said everything. And if that wasn’t enough, he continued cursing Gabi’s name as he got into his car and peeled away from the house.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Thanks for the coffee,” Blake mumbled. “I’m not a morning person.”

“I am.” I casually sipped my black Pike Place Roast as we weaved a path through the weight machines. “Well”—I tossed my cup into the nearest trash can and grabbed a piece of cinnamon gum—“it’s showtime.”

Without asking, Blake stole the gum right out of my hand, then shivered. “It’s freezing in here.”

“Well, if you’d wear clothes . . .”

She elbowed me. “I wore what you said to wear.”

“You’re wearing a sports bra.” I pointed to the black-and-pink bra that pushed the girls up high. “And tight spandex pants. So, basically, you’re almost naked.”

Blake pulled her thick hair into a ponytail holder and placed her hands on her hips. “Let’s do this before I chicken out.”

“Well, since I won’t have time to actually work out today, we’re going to do one of my WODs.”

“WODs?”

“CrossFit.” I shrugged. “Workout of the day. We’ll do a quick warm-up, bust out an EMOM, and some max weight lifting, then end everything with an AMRAP and stretching.”

Blake gave me a blank expression. “Are you speaking in code?”

“EMOM—every minute on the minute you do the prescribed exercise. AMRAP—as many reps as possible.”

“Sounds fun,” she said sarcastically.

I winked and slapped her ass hard. “Let’s go, sweet cheeks. Weights to lift, guys to make jealous.”

“All in a day’s work.” She rubbed her ass and glared in my direction, but I was already too busy getting our warm-up set together to care.

I grabbed two twenty-five-pound weights for her, and three for me.

“We’ll do a two-hundred-meter jog and ten pull-ups, followed by hand-release push-ups and then plank holds, alright?”