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“Sounds like Oscar,” I say with a laugh, stepping closer.
She wraps her arms around my neck. “I’ll miss you tonight.”
“Miss me?” Where am I going? Oh, right. She’s spending tonight with Oscar.
“He needs this,” she reminds me.
“I won’t pretend I’m not jealous, but I understand,” I tell her as I lower my lips to hers.
She gives me an emphatic peck on the lips that’s infuriatingly unsatisfying even as it makes my pants instantly tighten. She lets go with a playful shrug.
“Oscar said no tongues,” she explains as she pulls a black skirt out of the drawer. “It’s his night, his rules.”
“I should have guessed.” Really should have known he’d have a whole laundry list of rules he’s probably worked on all day. I strip off, turning away from her so she can’t tell just how hot and bothered that tiny, teasing little press of her lips got me. “Where is Oscar, anyway?”
“He’s looking for strawberries and cream in the kitchen. He has a whole bunch of stuff he apparently started planning the second he knew we’d be spending the night alone together.”
Typical. Most of it probably involves our mate minus most of the clothes she’s putting on.
I shake off the stab of envy. If I had the choice between teaching our grumpy Alpha Math, or spending all night pleasuring our sexy Alpha mate, I know which one I’d choose. Every last time.
“Don’t worry,” she says, as she adjusts the waistband of the slinky black skirt she just pulled on. “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”
“And the next day, and the next one,” I tell her, as I step into my jeans. “And every other day until the end of time.”
She laughs. “I’m sure he’ll find something else to talk about eventually.”
“I doubt it, but he might quit bragging if you let me take you out on a date alone some other night.”
“Is that a proposal?” she asks, as she pulls a red tank top out of the drawer.
I throw on a T-shirt and turn to her. “It’s one hundred and ten percent a proposal.”
“Sounds good to me. But tonight…”
“Is Oscar’s night. I get it.”
Even if it sucks right now. I can live with delayed gratification if I know the tables are going to be turned one night soon. Once Cheryl helps Oscar with whatever’s bothering him.
“Don’t worry, Everett and I are getting out of your way.”
“Oh?” she asks, as she puts on the tank top. She tugs the front down and looks back at me. “Wait. You mean you’re actually going out somewhere? Does Everett know about this?”
I snort. “Oh, he knows. It was his idea.”
“I’m intrigued,” she says, waiting for me to tell her more.
Time for the lie. “We’re going to the bowling alley.”
“There’s a bowling alley?” She looks as surprised as she sounds.
“There is,” I confirm. “It’s usually mostly empty, but they serve slushies in like a million different flavors so we’ll probably come home with brain freeze and weird colored tongues.”
Talk about overselling it. Everett seriously owes me for this bullshit.
“That actually sounds kind of fun,” she says.
“Well, next time we should all go,” I tell her.
