CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jack
“Well”—my lips curl up into a small smile—“that was definitely…hot.” I’m attempting to put Sarah at ease because it’s obvious she’s mortified at what just happened.
Dropping her hands from her eyes, she exhales a long breath, blue eyes apologetic. Her lips twist into a weak smile. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“One might even say it got a little heated.”
With a sound of dismay, she shoves at me playfully. “I think you’ve driven that point home, Jack.”
“What do you say we head out?” I pull on my suit jacket and grab the bag of takeout along with my keys. With a soft smile, I tip my head. “I could use a shower to get rid of the lingering spiciness.” I raise my eyebrows in jest on that last part, and it causes a deep flush to spread across her cheeks.
“The least I can do is bring you back to my place. You can shower there, and we can watch a movie.” She offers this with a hopeful expression, the depths of her blue eyes nearly entrancing me.
“Can we watch The Princess Bride?”
She lets out a tiny laugh. “As you wish.”
* * *
“She’s trying her hand at dating.”
The ball whizzes past my cheek, nearly sideswiping me, I’m so caught off guard with Ry’s admission. It bounces wildly off the walls of the enclosed gym court.
“What the hell?” I glare at him.
“What?” He flashes me an exasperated look, getting ready to serve again. “You’re the one who didn’t swing at it.”
As if I can concentrate on our racquetball game now when the idea of Sarah dating is fresh in my mind.
Returning his serve with a grunt, I ask, “What do you mean she’s trying her hand at dating again?” The idea of Sarah seeking out other men is beyond troubling, and a panic sweeps over me.
“Mags also told me Sarah’s been considering this app where you swipe in different directions on things you either love, hate, dislike, or like, and it matches you up with people who have similar tastes.”
“Sounds ridiculous.”
Ry bounces the ball a few times before tossing out casually, “Or useful. Because, really, if you hate shag carpeting and flannel shirts, how can someone truly get past that and fall in love?”
Oh Jesus.
Finally, he grins and bounces the ball a few more times. “Word has it she’s meeting a guy at The Tavern at around seven tonight after she finishes her shift.” Then he winks. “But you didn’t hear that from me.” Two more bounces of the ball. “Now are you going to get your head out of your ass and into the game or what?”
“Bring it on.”
* * *
“Jack? What are you doing here?”
Sarah’s clearly caught off guard as I stop in front of the booth where she’s seated, waiting on the guy she’s meeting tonight.
“Just happened to be around and thought I’d stop by for a drink. Saw you and had to say hi,” I explain cheerfully.
“Hi.” She waves as her eyes quickly dart past me, checking to see if her date’s arrived.
“Oh, Sunshine.” I pout dramatically. “You’re just going to discard me like that? Without a backward glance?”
“Yes.” Her response is quick; the corners of her lips quirk up with the barest hint of humor. The sparkle in her eyes is proof that she loves our back and forth banter as much as I do.
“Do you know what I think?”
She lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’ve been on the edge of my seat wondering that.”
Leaning down, I brace a hand on the table in front of her and revel in her sharp intake of breath at my closeness. “I think you wanted me to show up tonight.” Her lips part, but before she can respond, I move closer. “I think you hoped Ry would tell me you were meeting another guy because you wanted to see how I would react.”
Moving my mouth to her ear, I speak softly. “To see if I’d show up here and tell you I want you to come home with me tonight. That I want you to be thinking about me and not some other guy. That I want you to think of the way my tongue and lips felt when I tasted your sweet pussy the other night.”
Her breath hitches, and I push on. “I want you to think of the way it’ll feel when I sink my cock deep inside you.”
Drawing away slowly, I take in the sight of her parted lips, eyes hazy with lust. With a wink, I straighten, and rap my knuckles softly on the table. “Have a nice night, Sunshine.”
I head on over to the bar, sliding up on the worn leather seat, and order a beer. God knows I’m going to need a drink to help me get over the fact Sarah’s on a date tonight.
* * *
I’ve been fucking played. And by my own best friend, no less.
Their laughter rolls over me as I sit at the bar a few feet away like a fucking stalker as Sarah giggles again.
Date, my ass. Damn Ry made me think she would be on a date—not simply meeting her friend, Clint.
Staring down into my glass, I shuffle the ice cubes around. Before I can decide whether I should call it a night and head home or have another drink, there’s a nudge at my elbow.
“Hey, Just Jack.” Clint’s smiling at me with those perfect teeth of his, his blond hair perfectly coiffed. “You know you could’ve joined us.”
With a humorless laugh, I shake my head. “I wasn’t aware I was welcome.”
He nudges me. “Ah, now. You’re not going to sit and wait around for an invitation, are you? Come on. I didn’t have you pegged as that kind of guy.” He tips his head to the side with a small laugh. “You know, if someone had bitten me hard enough to leave a bruise and spanked me, I might have enjoyed it.” He falls silent for a beat before grinning. “Actually, that’s a lie. I’m not one for pain. But at least now you know what she doesn’t like.”
“Except for the part where she doesn’t seem to want the same things I do.”
His eyebrows rise. “Ah. You want the prospect of a relationship, do you?” Nodding slowly, as if mulling it over, he lays a hand on my shoulder. “Jacky, Jacky, Jacky. You have your work cut out for you. But”—he leans in, lowering his voice—“facts are facts. And the fact is, that woman wants you so bad it’s making her crazy.”
“With an emphasis on the crazy part, I suppose.”
“I’m just saying don’t give up. I think you need to be firm and show her who’s boss.” He winks. “And tonight is the perfect night since she’s had two drinks and is feeling relaxed. I’ll leave the rest up to you.”
He strolls back over to Sarah, and I catch sight of them saying goodbye in my peripheral vision. Tossing money down on the bar to cover my tab, I walk past their booth and wait for her on the sidewalk.
Once she exits the bar, I sidle up to her.
“Hey, Sunshine?”
“Yes?” She pulls a foil-wrapped chocolate from her purse and unwraps it. As is her routine, she reads the message written on the inside before taking a small bite.
“When I stand next to you, I can’t feel my face.”
She stares at me. “You’re communicating using song titles, now? Really, Jack?”
Well, at least she noticed it was The Weeknd’s hit song “Can’t Feel My Face.” That should count for something.
She tips her face up to the night sky, lips twitching in her attempt to refrain from smiling. Then she swats at my chest. “Seriously, Jack? You can’t be—”
Swiftly, I reach out, cupping her nape while my other hand slips to her waist, and I tug her to me, dipping my head.
And my mouth cuts off her words.