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“Prove it,” she says, glaring daggers at both of us. “Because there’s no way this is happening.”
Prove it?
“Fine.” Blake’s jaw clenches, and in one swift motion, he cups my face with his free hand and pulls me into a searing kiss. The soft apology he mutters before his lips crash against mine sends my mind spiraling as heat pools in my abdomen and spreads through my veins. I barely have time to register the taste of him, like mint and adrenaline, before he breaks away, leaving me breathless and reeling.
“Convinced now?” he asks, his voice low and husky, his gaze zeroed in on mine. Juliette’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and for a moment, I almost feel sorry for her. But that feeling dies when I remember how she eyed me.
“Whatever,” she huffs, looking straight at me. “Don’t think you’ll last. Men like him never stay for long, especially with someone like you.” With that parting shot, she storms off, leaving a wake of crushed books and bruised egos behind her.
As the door slams shut, I become acutely aware of how close Blake and I still are, our chests pressed together, our breaths mingling. My heart hammers, and I pray he doesn’t feel it racing.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, finally releasing me and stepping back. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Um, yeah, no problem. Happy to help.”Happy to help?Good grief, could I be any more awkward?
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, dazed and more than a little aroused. It wasn’t just the physical contact, either—something about the way he’d looked at me, with those intense blue eyes, had me falling over myself to please him. But that disturbing thought is for another time; I need to focus on getting through the rest of this surreal encounter.
“Thanks for playing along,” Blake grins sheepishly, running a hand through his tousled hair. “You’re a great kisser.”
“Uh, thanks?” I stammer, unsure of how to respond to such a blatant compliment. “So are you.”
“Good to know,” he chuckles, and for a moment, all the tension between us melts away, replaced by something warm and electric.
“Just don’t make it a habit,” I say, still trying to catch my breath. My cheeks flush with warmth as I struggle to process the unexpected desire coursing through me. The kiss might have been fake, but there’s no denying that it felt real. And I can’t shake the feeling that I want more. Which is preposterous. The last thing I need is a man to complicate things. Nope. Not happening. I’m in my boyfriend-free era. My life is way too complex.
“Can’t promise anything,” he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But seriously, Amanda, thank you. You do not know how much stress Juliette’s been causing me.”
“Is she always like that?” I ask, recalling the irritation in her voice and the way she’d eyed me suspiciously as if I were some sort of threat.
“Pretty much,” Blake sighs, rubbing his neck. “She’s relentless. I’ve tried everything to get her off my back, but nothing seems to work. She just keeps showing up.”
“Perhaps you should be more particular about who you sleep with.” I regret the words as soon as they land. Is that reverse slut-shaming?
His eyes darken, and his body becomes rigid. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I am.” He waves to the area where Juliette stood. “Kind of the reason she won’t leave me alone. She wants a round, and I’m unwilling to cave.”
Ugh. His terminology could use fine-tuning, but I owe him an apology. He has every right to sleep with anyone he wants as long as he’s upfront with his intentions.
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. And I bet it’s exhausting having to ward off stalkers.” It’s meant as a joke, but he doesn’t take it as one.
“Apology accepted, and yeah, you have no idea.” His body relaxes, and his easy smile returns. “But hey, at least I have you now, right?”
“Right,” I chuckle nervously, unsure what that means. We must be friends now. Although, I’m not sure if that’s what the Dashing Duke of Deke meant.
“Listen,” he says, leaning in closer so our faces are only inches apart, “if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out, okay? I owe you one.”
“Thanks,” I say, my heart pounding at the intensity of his gaze. It’s as if he’s trying to convey something important—something that goes beyond mere gratitude, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for whatever comes next.
“Great,” he says, breaking the spell and stepping back. “Well, I should probably get going. Practice starts in twenty minutes, and Coach will kill me if I’m late.”
“Of course,” I nod, my pulse slowly returning to normal as the distance between us grows. “Good luck at practice.”
“Thanks,” he smiles, his eyes dipping to my lips before stepping backward. He turns to leave but halts when his phone rings. Blake looks at the screen and frowns before answering. “Hey, what’s up?”
I will my libido to calm the fuck down as I observe the way his shoulders tense and how he absently runs a hand through his dark strands. The desire to know more about him nearly overwhelms me. Like, is the crease between his eyes one of worry or one of irritation?
“This Saturday? Mom, I have a game.” There’s a pause before he huffs out a breath. “Yeah, it’s an early one, but…” He pauses again and glances back at me. Our eyes lock, and it feels like an electric arc zapped us back to life. “That’s unnecessary. I have a girlfriend.”
CHAPTERTHREE
