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Mitch laughs and throws me a wink. “Does that mean we’re going steady?”
I look him up and down, taking in the sight that is Mitch Hale. He’s wearing sinfully tight jeans with black boots, and a grey T-shirt a full size too small that says “I Might Be Wrong But I Doubt It” in white lettering. The shirt clings to every muscle on the man’s body, the sleeves hugging around his biceps and begging for mercy. He even styled his hair. Whisking it up to the center in a short, teased semi-Mohawk. Keanu Reeves has nothing on this guy.
My mouth goes dry at Mitch’s joke and I can only nod.
He grimaces as if the thought of going steady with me disgusts him and anger floods my body. Mitch has me running so hot and cold, I’m going to have a coronary by the time tonight is over. Especially if we’re supposed to pretend to be a couple.
Fuck me. I need a drink.
Mitch
“I need a drink,” I mutter to no one in particular.
Adam Reynolds must hear me complaining because he places what I assume is a Jack and Coke in my empty hand.
“Here you go, mate.” He grins and I can’t help but smile back. The man’s enthusiasm is infectious.
Gavin, the sourpuss, is currently glaring at me from across the room. So much for us being an item. In the car, Gavin’s excitement and the accompanying smile he gave me had me sprouting questionable wood for most of the drive. Now he’s reverted right back to being a little shit. Hot and cold.
“Thanks, but I’m working—”
“I’ll take it, honey.” Gavin swoops in, steals the glass, and downs half of it before I can blink. I stand there, paralyzed, while I watch his pink lips caress the edge of the glass. “Thanks, dear,” he snaps, pulling me from my gawking. Before I can reply he turns and stomps off to pout somewhere.
I’m annoyed at his attitude and the distance he’s kept between us tonight. What. The. Hell. No way is he going to up and disappear on me at another party. Especially after we paraded our relationship in front of the media to lure his stalker out of the shadows.
“Sorry guys,” I apologize to Adam and his wife, Ellie. I was happy to finally meet them both after everything Gemma had told me about
the couple when I gave her Adam’s phone number last year. Now I have to cut our conversation short because of yet another Gavin Walker temper tantrum.
Weaving through the crowd at the club, I follow Gavin to the back hallway that houses the kitchen and bathrooms. Once I’m out of sight of the other guests, I grab a shocked Gavin’s upper arm and shove him into the men’s room.
“Hey! Quit being an asshole!” Gavin wrenches out of my grip, turning to sneer. “I’ll put you on your knees again, Hale!”
The thought of being on my knees in front of Gavin sends a flush of heat up my body. I can feel the fire in my cheeks and by the way Gavin’s eyes widen, I’m betting he can see it too.
“I’m not the one behaving like a brat!” I growl in a low voice. Ducking, I check to make sure no one else is in the stalls. Once I’ve made sure it’s clear, I lock the bathroom door.
“Brat?” Gavin shouts. “I’m a brat?”
“Yes, you’re a brat. Ever since we had our picture taken outside, you’ve been unbearable to be around!”
“You’re not the one whose entire life was just turned upside down out there!” he yells.
I step closer, more furious than I’ve ever been. “Are you kidding me? You are so unbelievably self-centered!” Those damn hypnotizing full lips fall open in shock. “I was just outed too, and I’m not even fucking gay!”
Without thinking, I grab either side of his head, digging my fingers into that thick, blonde hair, and crush my mouth over his.
And it’s the hottest kiss of my life.
Just, damn.
Gavin
When Mitch presses his mouth over mine, my body explodes with sensation. Raw, urgent need spills over, flooding my system. His huge hands frame my face and he crowds me back against the nearest wall. He’s large, dominating, and hot as hell.
I have no idea what’s gotten into Mitch, but I’m not going to tell him to stop. The length of his body presses into mine, searing and hot and…hard?
Fuck. He’s into this.
