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“That’s hard to believe considering you don’t even know my name.”
“Come on now.” He broke into a grin that I would’ve found fucking irresistible if I didn’t know he was seconds from roasting me. “I don’t need to know your name to know that you’re newly single, you hate it, and you really, really miss Mike. Looking at your matching coffee mugs makes you sad. You want to be called ‘wifey’ again. You can’t sleep without him at night, you bought his bullshit line about getting back together, and right now, you’re in desperate, desperate fucking need of a rebound,” he said, looking pleased with himself as I stood there silent, fuming. A few seconds of silence passed as he arched an eyebrow and waited for my response. “So do I get a gold star now or what?”
All I could do was stare at him, so speechless and angry that I didn’t even notice anyone coming up to us till I heard an almost comically sultry voice beside me.
“I’m sorry, but do either of you have a light?”
I turned and blushed immediately since I found myself staring straight into a pair of breasts – absolutely huge, barely covered breasts. They were stuffed into a painted-on dress worn by a statuesque blonde who was already tall without those six-inch heels.
“I, uh… don’t have a light. Sorry,” I said, forcing my eyes off of her cleavage and looking up to find her already eyeing Drew – assuming she was ever even looking at me.
“And you, Mr. Maddox?”
Only now did he turn from me to her, taking his time to reply.
“I don’t smoke,” he finally said, wearing a knowing look that said I know why you’re actually here.
“Mmm, well.” Her cleavage plunged as she gave a cutesy shrug. “You could have a lighter on you for other reasons, no?”
“Sorry. Not a pyromaniac either.”
His voice was low and teasing, and it prompted the woman to giggle so sharply that I’m pretty sure the sound alone was what alerted the rest of the guests to our presence. Because suddenly, they were trickling over to our previously undiscovered side of the deck, and suddenly, I looked like an awkward, clingy, severely underdressed third wheel. Clearly, these two were flirting and clearly, our new audience was wondering what the hell kind of business the girl in the ratty leggings had standing between Drew Fucking Maddox and Miss Jaw-Dropping Cleavage.
“Excuse me,” I said hastily, thanking God for the beat-up Nikes on my feet because they allowed me to practically fly away from that whole situation. Now, all I needed was to get off the deck to avoid all these other eyes watching me and, in all likelihood, wondering why I thought I could win the attention of Drew Maddox in the first place.
It’s not what you think. I’m not a thirsty fangirl, and I wasn’t trying to flirt, I wanted to explain to them, though I was quickly distracted by the sound of footsteps coming behind me.
“Hey. Wifey.”
Seriously?
Without even hearing that low voice, I knew it was Drew because everyone’s eyes had swiftly moved from me to something tall past my shoulder. I felt my cheeks heat up from all the unwanted attention as I spun around.
“What?” I hissed under my breath, further annoyed by the way Drew’s smile broadened when he saw my pissed off face again. “What do you want? Why follow me when that woman is much more interested in talking to you than I am?”
“Because you and I were in the middle of a conversation and I don’t leave things unfinished.”
“Well, I know you’re probably used to getting your way, but some things are meant to end before you’re ready,” I snapped before turning back around to head inside.
“Right. This coming from the girl who refuses to get o
ver her ex.”
I stopped in place, officially at my wit’s end as I spun back around and shot daggers at Drew. I wanted so badly to fire back with some scathing remark, but in the past twenty minutes – between calling Mike and meeting Drew – I’d been on such a roller coaster of emotions that I was too mentally tired to get smart. I was just going to hit the bastard with the truth.
“Okay, you know what?”
My pulse spiked as I grabbed Drew’s thick forearm to pull him out of earshot of the others. Shit. Holy God. Hot damn. I did my best to get past how absurdly hard he felt in my grip, and to ignore the look of sheer pleasure on his face as I led him to the wall next to the door.
“Fuck, baby. Get this part for me too,” he groaned, wrapping his hand around mine and moving my grip on his forearm.
“What are you doing?” I hissed as he laughed.
“Sore from practice. I need a massage.”
I tossed his arm away like a hot potato, my toes curling in my shoes as I fought to get rid of the heat that had just flooded my body. Stop replaying the sound of his groan, I begged myself while trying to regroup.
“Okay, just… quiet for a second, and listen.” I caught my breath, forcing myself to look unflustered as I stared up at Drew. “I was with my ex for nine years. I met him when I was thirteen years old, and we were best friends for seven years before we even started dating. We grew up together, survived bullshit together, got strong together. We basically made each other, okay? Who I am now, everything he is today – that’s all a credit to us being devoted to each other for the past sixteen years, because we weren’t just boyfriend-girlfriend, we were a partnership for most of our lives, and yet you think it would be natural for me to just nod along with this sudden breakup and carry on without asking any questions?” I cocked my head at Drew, challenging him to say something. I was really banking on shutting him up with this, but I should have known he’d be much more of a challenge.
