“Are you talking about the therapy session notes? Because those are standard practice, and I only write what happens in the sessions.”
“No, man. I’m talking about the love notes you’ve been leaving on her desk.”
Love notes?
What fucking love notes?
I try to suck in a breath but it’s short and choppy, my lungs unable to inflate as if my chest has stopped functioning. I grip the arms of the chair and watch as Mia and Olivia skip out of the house unbeknownst that something is seriously fucking wrong right now.
“Champagne time!” Olivia trills, handing one to Austin as Mia passes me one too.
“Cheers, happy engagement and happy best man acceptance!” Mia announces.
“Cheers!”
Austin gives me a quick nod before downing half his glass.
I need to talk to Mia.
???
Never say that you’ll just have one glass of champagne. Because one turns into two, which turns into another bottle, which turns into tequila shots at a bar downtown, and before you know it, your fake girlfriend is learning how to line dance with a bunch of cowboys and Olivia’s girlfriends that make flirting look like a professional sport.
Not that I’m worried. Mia has been stealing drunken glances at me all night. Running her tongue along her bottom lip, subtly flicking her hair over her shoulder, batting those heavy-lidded eyes at me. All signs indicating that our deal to just be friends is off. Now I just need to work out whether I should enforce her no-fraternization policy.
She’s drunk, but I’m halfway there myself. I don’t want to fall into bed with her when she might regret it in the morning, but the ache I feel to just hold her is consuming. The girls form a group, one by one looking at our table and turning back, high-pitched squeals coming from the chorus of terrifying heads.
Eventually, the redhead, I think her name is Blakely, slaps Mia on the ass and practically screeches for her to get her man.
I swear to God if she approaches any other fucker in this room, I’m going to lose it. But she heads straight toward me. Austin slaps me on the back, squeezing my shoulder as another guy from the group, Josh, tilts his beer bottle at me.
The neon glow of the room fades, the stamp of boots on the hardwood floor beats just for Mia, almost as if she choreographed this routine to make her way to me. Her hipsswing in time with the band, and it feels like, for a moment, all eyes are on us. Except I can’t see them. I just see her. Her long black hair is wavy, with a few strands damp and clinging to her skin from dancing. The tiny denim shorts she borrowed from Olivia hug the curve of her hips and seem to elongate her toned legs. Seeing her like this, so casual and happy, it makes me want to rip up my routine, start afresh. To take her away for weekends, go on long hikes and runs, hell I’d sign up for one of her yoga classes if it meant I could see every version of her.
She reaches me and without hesitation, dips down, tilts my head to her and pushes her soft, pink lips against mine. Austin and Josh start whacking their fists on the table, the girls squeal and I’m pretty sure the bell ringing behind the bar is for us. Even if it’s not, it feels like the whole room is celebrating. Like this kiss, the demand her mouth makes on mine, the way her tongue runs against the seam of my lips, it was inevitable. We are inevitable. I’ve never wanted anyone like I’ve wanted her. And it comes with pure adoration. I want to see all her goals met; I want her to be happy, healthy. I want her moving past the demons of her past; I want her trusting me completely.I want her.I know that. And I’m terrified. I know I have to fix a lot of my own issues to be able to give her the life she wants.
I promise her, not with words, but with the flick of my tongue and the squeeze of her hips as she presses against me, I’m going to be the man she deserves.
Mia
The hum and buzz of the bar bring me back to the present. I grin against Alfie’s lips, and he pushes my hair out of my face. I can’t believe I just kissed my boss. His fingers cradle the back of my head like he’s scared I’ll run off. Like if we stop for evena moment, I might change my mind. We’ve flirted a lot, and he’s given me space. Now I want to explore whatever this is. I’m ready. I’m done playing games, and this time, I’m going to see it through. I’m not going to run away.
Alfie cups my face. Not happy for just one brutal, life-altering kiss, he wants more, and I’m more than happy to give it to him.
“Come dance with me,” I murmur against his lips.
“Anything you want, love.”
Love.
God, my body sets on fire when he calls me that. Is that what this is? I’ve been infatuated with Alfie for so long, I’ve not allowed myself to analyze the depth of my attraction to him. Physically, of course, he’s gorgeous. His dark hair begins to curl when it gets too long on top, his sharp jawline softened by the scruff he tends to keep now. He’s not wearing his tortoiseshell glasses tonight, but when he does, he has that academic professor look that just sends my ovaries into overdrive.
Olivia twirls past us, reaching for Austin, who slips out of the booth with no hesitation. Josh slides out, interrupting Nicole, who is talking to some guy at the bar. He pulls her to the dance floor without asking, holding her firmly. I can’t work out whether those two love or hate each other. Blakely is nowhere to be seen.
“Please tell me that was real, love.”
I smile against his neck, nuzzling in. I nod, and he pulls back, lifting my chin so he can study me. Damn, I love it when he does this. I feel exposed in the most seductive way. Like he can read everything I have to say without speaking a word.
“No more faking. No more pretending.”
