The Matchmaker's Playbook (13 page)

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

My hand was touching something soft. Eyes shut, I squeezed, then squeezed again. Oh wow, good dream. Very vivid. Like her breasts were really there, in my room, in my bed. In my hand.

Well, since I was dreaming . . .

I climbed on top of Blake and used both hands, cupping their heaviness, giving another squeeze as my fingertips went to her nipples.

Her eyes flashed open.

“Clearly you’re feeling better,” she hissed, then with a grunt shoved me off of her.

“Nope,” I said with a chuckle. “Still delirious. Where we at with that nurse costume?”

Blake quickly pulled on a hooded sweatshirt, covering up her white tank top and short black shorts. “No nurse costume. You’re healed. And I have to get to practice.”

“What kind of nurse are you? You sleep with your patient, then leave at first light! I should fire you.” I grinned, then patted the spot next to me. “Five more minutes?”

“Hey, I’m just following the rules, coach! Doesn’t it say in your contract that you can’t legally sleep with your clients?” She winked.

Damn, she was adorable. I wanted to kiss that sexy mouth of hers.

“Sex,” I said with a nod. “Not sleep. Sleep is encouraged. Did you know at least sixty percent of insomniacs turn to homicide?”

“That’s a lie.” She crossed her arms. “And I really do need to get to practice.”

“Fine.” I moved to get up.

“Wait!” She threw her hands in front of her.

But she was too late.

The sheet fell away, and I was completely naked, leaving me staring down at my own body and wondering if it was going to offend her that my little groping had clearly had an effect on my manhood.

“About that.” I pointed. “It’s morning.”

“Sure.” Her cheeks were bright red. “I’ll just . . .” She backed up into the dresser, knocking over my cologne along with some ChapStick. She quickly bent over to pick them up.

I let out a groan as her ass waved in the air. “Not helping, Blake.”

With a thump, she pushed the objects back onto the dresser and reached for the doorknob, only to miss it three times before yelling bye and slamming the door behind her.

The room fell silent.

I wondered if it was a bad thing that the sight of my arousal made her head for the hills. Never had that happened before. If anything, jaws tended to drop, parades started, lots of moaning commenced, and in two instances, bras spontaneously fell to the floor.

The door jerked open. “Sorry!” Blake stumbled through. “I just wanted to make sure you stay in bed.”

“But—”

“In bed!” Nurse Ratched was back. She glared, her ice-blue eyes challenging me to argue further. I suddenly felt very, very mothered. Which was awkward, considering my dick hadn’t gotten the message yet. “Take the Tylenol I left for you, and I’ll stop by after practice with soup.”

“Food?” My ears perked up.

“Food.” Her eyes lowered briefly before she cleared her throat and pointed. “Shouldn’t you take care of . . . that?”

“This?” Shit, talking about my junk just made it worse—the strain, the ache, the embarrassment—as my body clearly reached for higher heights. “Wouldn’t a good nurse stay and help?”

She rolled her eyes. “You really are disgusting, you know that, right?” She was smiling, which led me to believe she was joking. Or . . . holy shit . . . was she flirting with me?

“I officially forbid you to hang out with Gabi anymore. What the hell has she said about me to give you such a low opinion?”

“What makes you think it’s Gabi?” she said with a shrug. “Also. You’re a whore.”

“I’d be willing to amend my ways if you’d scratch the itch, doc.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Was it something I said?” I laughed at her horrified expression, then ducked when the ChapStick grazed my ear, flying by with an impressive speed I hadn’t been expecting.

“I’m spitting in your food!” she announced, slamming the door behind her.

The only reason I was able to turn around and climb back into bed, other than the fact that if I’d tried peeing it wouldn’t have ended up in the toilet, was because she was coming back.

With food.

For me.

Damn it. Something was happening. Something . . . that I really didn’t want to acknowledge. I always responded to women. Always. I appreciated them, thought all shapes and sizes were attractive. But I’d never responded to a client, crossed that line. With Blake it was more than that—it felt like more—because when we were together, I didn’t want the time to end. I wasn’t pretending to listen to her, and I didn’t check the time and give all the nonverbal cues of needing to wrap things up.

I just liked her. Plain and simple. She was beautiful, but something told me that even if she was still wearing the baggy sweatshirts and sporting a scrunchie, it wouldn’t have taken me a long time to discover the treasure that she was underneath.

She was fiercely loyal and hardworking. And she cared, even about someone who she really shouldn’t care about—me.

Last night, while feverish, I’d had that moment. A moment of clarity. I was the Grinch whose heart grew three sizes. I looked down.

Or maybe it was just my cock.

Either way, it was no longer just this physical wham-bam reaction. There was something about her, something that made me want to punch David in the face and steal Blake for myself.

Food.

She wasn’t bringing him food.

Food meant . . .

Oh shit.

It meant something.

Right?

And now I was acting like all of my clients—frantic, and desperate to win the attention of the person I was after. Fantastic.

I was still in the game, but I was warming the bench, splinters embedding themselves in my hard ass while David made a game-winning touchdown. Damn David.

With a sigh, I swiped my phone off the nightstand and sent off a quick text to Lex.

Ian: Where’d you bury her?

He responded right away.

Lex: I thought it best to leave you out of it just in case you have to testify.

Ian: You’re a good friend.

Lex: Also, Gabi says sorry for getting you sick.

Ian: A true friend would apologize with cookies.

Lex: She said to go screw yourself.

Ian: She not up to the task? Still too dehydrated?

Lex: She said, and I’m quoting her, just

FYI: Tell Ian that if I want to get syph I’ll do it without hooking up with the campus bike.

Ian: Bike?

Lex: Because everyone’s had a ride.

Ian: Unfair. It’s me riding them, not the other way around. You know how I feel about lazy sex. *Cough, points finger*

Lex: Bite me.

Ian: Pretty sure Gabs already took care of that.

Lex: Remind me to get my rabies shot later.

Ian: Are you home?

Lex: On my way.

I frowned at the phone.

Ian: You’re still at Gabi’s?

Lex: I told you, I had to get rid of the body. Murder takes time.

Ian: Alrighty then. See you in a few.

Lex: By the way, I hate her. Just so you know. I only came over here because I was worried she had the plague and was about to start a citywide epidemic.

Ian: No need to defend yourself.

Lex: Good. See you in a few.

I set down my phone and smiled, imagining just how great of a doctor Lex had been to Gabi. I bet he threw the medicine at her, then yelled when she didn’t suddenly just get better. He wasn’t a patient man, not when it came to Gabi. I wanted to check on her too, but I was suddenly exhausted.

With a groan, I rubbed my eyes, quickly got under the covers, and went back to sleep.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

By the time Blake made it back to my house, I was showered and downstairs watching
Game of Thrones
reruns. When the knock sounded at the door, I knew exactly who it was.

I stood just as Lex went to open it.

Oh shit. I’d have to explain why she was back.

“Hey, Lex,” Blake stood up on her tiptoes, kissed him on the cheek, and moved past him into the kitchen, like she was on girlfriend terms.

Curious, I watched out of the corner of my eye as she set two takeout bags down and started pulling out boxes.

Lex pouted, leaning toward her a little closer than I would have liked. “Please tell me you got food for me too.”

I growled from my spot on the couch.

“Oh, hey, Ian. Didn’t see you,” Lex lied.

I gave him the finger while Blake continued piling an insane amount of takeout onto the table.

“I got your favorite.” Blake grinned at my roommate like they were besties. What the hell? “Chow mein, right?”

“With pork?”

I choked on my bottle of water, then shot to my feet, dizzily making my way toward the bar.

“Of course.” She scooted the tray over, while the smell of Thai food, Chinese, and . . .

“Panera Bread,” I shouted, louder than necessary.

“Forgive Ian,” Lex said. “Sometimes I think he loves food more than sex.”

“And sometimes”—I sat—“depending on the girl, that’s true.”

Blake bit down on her lip, her face paling briefly before she scooted a black plastic bowl of soup in my direction.

She’d paled when I mentioned sex.

So that meant she was either jealous it wasn’t her, or totally disgusted that I was the type of guy to go out and just have mindless sex with equally mindless girls.

I frowned down at the soup.

“Is it too hot?” Blake asked, coming around the bar and handing me a napkin.

She smelled like burnt vanilla. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, parts of the wavy golden-brown mess still wet. Face makeup-free except for eyelash stuff and some lip gloss.

I suppressed a groan. Damn, she really was pretty. All of her.

Even in the boyfriend sweats that I’d finally let her buy. In pink. Oh, her and pink.

I glanced down.

The flip-flops had made another appearance, though for some reason it was like as long as she was wearing them, in my mind, we were still on equal footing. Like the minute she was no longer comfortable around me was the minute I was going to lose my shit and just . . . I don’t know. I hadn’t planned that far, because I wasn’t going to let it happen.

“Yes,” I blurted. “The soup’s freakishly hot.” I leaned forward until my mouth was inches from hers. “Blow?”

“You want me to blow on your soup,” she said in a deadpan voice. “Are you twelve?”

“Thirteen,” Lex piped up. “Quick, tell her about the facial hair you just got. Oh, and his testicles dropped about two days ago, so if he’s handsy, just know . . . he’s brand-new and a bit horny.”

“I’m sad”—I glared at Lex—“that Gabi didn’t succeed in chopping your balls off.”

“Not for lack of trying,” he grumbled, his expression losing some of its exuberance.

“Also”—I grabbed my spoon while Blake handed me some French bread—“Gabi said next time you touch her tits, she’s going to run you over with a lawn mower.”

Lex snorted. “Like she could even start it. And I wasn’t touching any part of her.” He shivered. “Do I look like I want an incurable disease? Hell, I was trying to feel her forehead, and my hands . . . slipped.”

“From her forehead.” I grinned. “That’s . . . wow . . . impressive. Must have been wearing a hell of a push-up bra.”

I lifted the soup to my lips and dropped my spoon. “Shit, that really is hot.”

Blake rolled her eyes, then leaned in and blew over the tomato soup, her plump lips forming the perfect
O
.

I watched.

Even Lex watched.

The room went dead silent.

She finally glanced up at us.

Lex turned around and started whistling while I continued staring. “You blow well,” I said in my most romantic voice.

“Coming from you”—she shook her head—“I’ll take that as the highest of compliments.”

I kept my face impassive when really I hated that she thought of me that way. And I never cared what girls thought.

Because for the most part, the girls I was around didn’t really do that often—you know, think about anything past having sex. There were no feelings involved, no sharing, just mutual pleasure. Up until now, I’d thought myself lucky to find women who only wanted to get off. Now? It felt like I’d been missing something. Something important.

“Eat.” Blake winked and pulled out a chicken salad and started diving into it like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Again, Lex and I paused.

Me because I was absolutely fascinated to see a woman other than Gabi eat food and not talk about dieting.

Lex because his biggest turn-on was Carl’s Jr. commercials. It was his porn. Go figure.

I was never letting Blake eat burgers in front of him. Ever.

Not even the cheap ninety-nine-cent kind from McDonald’s.

“Um . . .” I coughed into my hand when she glanced up and looked at us. “You have chicken just . . . right . . . there.” I pointed to the side of her mouth.

Blushing, she wiped her mouth and shook her head. “Sorry. I’m always starving after practice. And I didn’t have time to pack any protein bars, because I was too busy playing nurse all night.”

“Without the nurse outfit,” I complained.

“You still have that?” Lex asked.

“You guys are . . .” Blake stood. “Well, let’s just say it makes total sense, what you do.”

“What?” I ate more soup now that it was cooling off. “We save women from themselves. And more importantly, we help them get the men of their dreams. If that’s so wrong, I don’t wanna be right.” I winked, and Lex held up his hand for a high five.

Blake moved back around the breakfast bar and pressed a palm to my forehead.

“Ouch.” I nearly fell back out of my chair. “Kinda rough, Blake.”

“Last night you said you liked it rough. Just following orders.”

“I did?”

“Yup.” She removed her hand. Despite the glint in her eyes, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “Right before you told me to lick your ears.”

“Erogenous zone,” I offered with a smirk. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“Your fever’s gone.”

“Good.” I stood and moved to grab my computer.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Blake jerked the computer from my hands.

“Uh . . . working? I have a near-perfect GPA, and I need to keep it that way. I need to e-mail my profs, make sure we don’t have any new clients that need interviewing, and—”

“Nope.” She held the computer against her chest. “You’re weak from the fever. Today you need to just chill. Then tomorrow you can work.”

“I’m your love coach. If I chill, that means you aren’t getting your man.”

She chewed her lower lip and frowned. “I’ve waited this long. What’s one more day?”

Sighing, I reached for my computer.

She pulled away.

“Blake.”

“Ian.”

I looked to Lex for help, but he’d already left the room.

“Fine.” I sighed. “I’ll just sit here and watch TV for the rest of the afternoon and evening, then go to bed at six.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine.” Blake kept her death grip on the computer and made her way over to the couch. “So what are we watching?”

“You can’t stay,” I blurted.

“Why not?”

“Because!” I had work to do. I wasn’t kidding about the homework or the need I had to make sure everything was on schedule. The sooner I got rid of her as a client and into David’s stupid arms, the sooner she’d realize what a tool he was and come running back.

Right? All I knew was I wanted our time to be finished, so that it would actually be fair for me to join the game rather than watch from the freaking sidelines.

“We’re friends,” she announced.

I almost threw up. “What did you just say?”

“Friends.”

That’s what I thought. The f-bomb.

“I have two. Don’t need another. You know, the whole third-wheel thing.” I shrugged. “Now, if you want an upgrade, I can easily arrange more. Think of it as friends”—I held up one hand, then held up the other—“but you get benefits, like you’d get with a real job.”

“You mean friends with benefits.”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Ian.”

“Yes?”

“Sit down, shut up, and try not to get delirious again.”

Exhaling with frustration, I moved to the farthest end of the couch from her and sat. Not because I wasn’t intoxicated by her presence, but because I was suddenly realizing that I had no self-control where she was concerned, and I didn’t want her to realize how much she affected me.

How much I wanted to taste her again and again.

And how much I resented the fact that she would never want me in the same way.

For the first time in my life, I wanted a girl that wasn’t mine to have.

And it sucked.