Game Saver (16 page)

With our food eaten and drinks topped up, we all sit in Cade and Thomas’s backyard around the outdoor table, trying to hold off food comas. It’s when the girl posse and the guy posse take their respective sides that Mac nudges my ribs.

“So how are things with Cade?”

I turn my body her way, my widened eyes meeting her curious ones. “They’re fine. We’re just friends.”

“Who sleep together. I know about
those
kind of friends. I also know when it becomes
more
than that.”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

She tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “How do you know?”

“I—”

“She doesn’t,” Dani muses across the table.

“I do so!” I say, glaring at her.

“You’re so full of shit I’m surprised you can’t taste it,” my best friend retorts, and my mouth drops open.

“You’ve changed. You’re sounding more and more like me every day. I’m so proud,” I say, wiping an imaginary tear away from my cheek.

“Stop trying to change the subject. You obviously can’t see what we see, and what I’m telling you is, make it real. What have you got to lose?” Dani asks, and it hits me that this could be a premeditated attack.

“What’s a little—okay a
lot
—of hot sex with a little fake girlfriending on the side?”

“A one-sided relationship where he gets more than you do?” Dani says, deadpan. “I’ve done the secret relationship thing-”

“This isn’t a secret one, this is a fake one.”

“That’s still a secret and comes with its own brand of heartache.”

“Only if there are feelings involved.”

“And are there?” Sam asks, leaning forward in her chair with interest.

“Are there what?” I reply.

“Feelings involved?” Sam presses.

“Nope,” I say, accentuating the
P
with a pop.

“So what happens when it’s not fake anymore?” Dani asks, making my head jerk. I square her with a ‘don’t go there’ look but that doesn’t stop her. “Well?”

“It won’t. We know what we’ve got and the purpose of it. The benefits are out of this world so I’m not going to complain.”

“Okay then, how about this? What happens when you meet someone who you want something real with?”

Not going to happen because I already want that with Cade,
I say in my head. “We’re low-key, casual, free, and easy.”

“I bet he’s easy when he’s got you on tap,” Mia says with a grin.

An undignified snort escapes my lifts. “Maybe it’s
me
who has
him
on tap.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Mac says, holding up her hand up for a fist bump.

“Things are fine as they are. Why complicate it with labels?”

Kate decides to wade in. “Haven’t you already complicated it with labels by saying its friends with benefits?”

“Touché,” I mutter.

“She’s got you there,” Mia says with a laugh.

“He totally stood up for you when his father told him to stop seeing you,” Zoe says flippantly, taking a sip of her soda, and my eyes snap to hers.

“What?” I shriek, my heart pounding. Everyone’s eyes swing to me—including those in the detached guy huddle—and I look at Cade.

“Your dad told you to stop seeing me?” I ask angrily, shocked that it’s not only his Mom that doesn’t think I’m Carsen-worthy but his Dad as well.

“Shit,” he spits out, glaring at Noah before walking around the table towards me. “It doesn’t mat—”

“Of
course
it matters.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t . . .” he says, trying to calm me down but I’m too far gone to come back now.

“He’s
such
a dick,” I say angrily, scraping my chair back along the concrete and jumping to my feet. “Who the fuck does he think he is, telling his son who he can date?”

“Abs . . .” Dani says in vain.

“No, he’s not just a dick. He’s a fuckwad,” I throw my arms out in the air. “Gah! What did he say?” I demand just as Cade reaches an arm out to me. Too lost in my rage, I shrug it off.

“No.
Epic
fuckwad who thinks his shit doesn’t stink like the rest of us,” I growl and take a breath but unable to stop myself, I continue my verbal diarrhea. “I mean, who is he to say whether I’m good enough for his precious Cade Carmichael Carson the Third? I’m awesome. I’m hot, successful, not broke by any stretch of the imagination . . .” I gulp in some air, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. Sometimes the rants just flow, and there’s no time for breathing when verbal venom needs to get out. “And I’m a damn good lay,” I shout for my finale.

“Damn, Carsen. If you don’t marry her, I will,” Thomas jibes.

“Abi,” Cade says with a laugh, and I jerk my eyes to him.

“What?” I snarl, totally in another dimension. My murderous haze clears when his hand touches the small of my back.

“Spitfire,” he says, his smooth, deep voice cutting through the red.

“Well, we all know where
that
name comes from now.” Thomas sniggers, and a wave of chuckles and giggles surrounds us.

Cade brings his other arm around my waist, turning my body into his. “You’re cute as hell when you’re riled up.”

My cheeks blaze, and I bury my face in his chest.

He lowers his mouth to my ear. “Remind me to get you angry the next time you ride me. I bet you’ll buck like a pissed-off bronco if I do a good job of it.”

I lift my head to glare at him but he just grins at me, bringing me into his side and turning back to face the group.

“You right there, Abi?” Zach asks, smirking at me.

“I’m sorry. Cade’s dad is just an ass.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Noah says. “Most of us have known that for a while.”

“I like her,” Daniel quips, standing behind Mac’s chair. He puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes. “She puts your freak-outs to shame, gorgeous.”

“And
that’s
saying something,” Kate pipes up.

“It was pretty epic,” Mia muses. “You’d be a fun drunk. When I can drink again, I’m definitely hitting the clubs with you.”

That makes me giggle. “You’re on.”

Hooking my arm around his front, I look up to find Cade’s eyes on me. “I’m sorry. He’s your dad and I—”

I don’t get any more out because his lips swallow the rest of my apology. I’m plastered to his front when he finally lets me come up for air. “I think we’ve got some talking to do.”

“About what?” I breathe.

“
Everything.
”

After waving Mac and Daniel off, I close the front door and return to the living room where I find Thomas but no Abi.

“Where is she?” I ask, my heart stopping for a second at the thought she might have escaped before we could talk.

He holds up a beer for me, and I know I’m about to cop some shit from him. “Bathroom stop. Don’t worry, she hasn’t run away . . . yet.”

“Very funny, smartass,” I reply, collapsing on the couch.

“No, no. What was funny was Abi getting riled up because of your dad. That was fucking awesome.”

“It kinda was,” I say with a grin.

His expression turns serious. “It’s not fake for her, and it’s definitely not all about sex for you.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Seriously, Carsen. Pull your head out of your ass and look at yourself. How many nights out of the last week have you slept alone?”

“I have—” I stop myself when it hits that in the last ten days, I’ve slept alone once, and that was because Abi worked through the night at the hotel to cover for someone who was sick. Nine nights—five at mine, four at hers—every one of them spent together. And not just spent having sex—although there was a hell of a lot of that. We’ve watched movies and made dinners, and just spent time together.

My one fuck-up was not telling her about Dad’s visit and little ‘talk’ on Friday. But well over a month after hooking up with her, and spending more and more time together, it seems anything
but
fake.

“You may be one of the smartest men I know, but how on earth can you be so blind?” Thomas continues.

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?”

“Go find your woman, and I can guarantee if you ask the right questions, you’ll get the right answers.”

“You’re getting to be very sage-like in your abstinence. You should take this show on the road. If you can’t get laid, at least make money from it.”

He laughs. “Maybe I’m
choosing
not to have sex. Ever considered that?”

I lean forward, downing the rest of my beer and placing the empty bottle on the coffee table. “Is it because of the rash? Because I can prescribe you cream for that and you’ll be all cleared up and ready to jump back in the saddle in seven days, I swear.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?” he says, flipping me the bird.

“Just saying, penicillin is your friend.”

“Go find that woman of yours before I jump into
her
saddle.”

I gasp in mock horror as I stand up. “And make you break your new vow of celibacy? That wouldn’t be very nice of me. I’ll get rid of the temptation and go
deal
with my woman in the best way I know how.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll turn the sound up,” he says wryly.

“Practice safe abstinence and grab the noise-cancelling headphones. Might be better for you and your . . .” I nod to his lap, “
health.
”

“Fuck off, Noddy.”

“Love you, too,” I retort, chuckling as I leave the living room and make my way up the hallway to the back of the house where the master bedroom is situated.

Abi’s outburst today surprised me, but not for obvious reasons. Her words felt great—fucking fantastic, in fact—and at the time I’d wanted to sweep her up into my arms and carry her to my bed to stake my claim once and for all. Due to company, I hadn’t been able to do that; instead, I’d made sure she knew I had no problem with what she said.

I’d hoped that I’d reassured her, but the rest of the night, guys on one side, girls on the other, she seemed distant. Abi-Jane Cook and closed-off don’t belong in the same sentence.

One thing that was blatantly clear is that things between the two of us are
not
as clear-cut as they were at the start when it was just a guy and a girl hooking up at a bar. Or the second night when it was two acquaintances who knew they rocked each other’s worlds beneath the sheets and wanted a repeat.

This is more than that, and if I’m honest with myself, I’ve known that for a while, maybe even from that second morning. I’ve just been comfortable with what we have and enjoying it—and her—every way I can. I’ve had bad days at work and still ended my shift smiling because I knew I was heading home to Abi.

Fuck, I’m an idiot.
Guys do this. We live in the moment, liking the who, the what, and the how, and we don’t look deeper into the why.

In this case, the why is
I like Abi.
I like what we’ve got together. I
don’t
want her with anyone else but me. I want to see where this could go. I don’t want fake, I want real, and I want real with her.

Girls—in my experience—are all about the why. They can
obsess
over the why, or more so, the why not. Abi is not like any other girl. She’s been right there with me enjoying the who—I hope so, anyway—the what and the how. Especially the way I
do
the how.

That’s not to say we’re not gonna talk. We’re totally going to talk. I’m not even going to touch her until we . . .

I step into my bedroom and stop dead when I see Abi lying on my bed in nothing but lace panties and a devilish grin.

Throwing my hand out blindly, I find the door and slam it shut behind me, unable to tear my eyes away, watching her hand run over her hard nipples, her gaze locked to mine.

Her fingers drift lower . . . and lower . . . disappearing beneath the lace. Her head drops back, and her lips part as a low moan escapes her throat at the first stroke.

Fuck me sideways. Talk? What talk?
Talking’s overrated when there’s an almost naked and clearly horny woman enticing me.