The Matchmaker's Replacement [Kindle in Motion] (Wingmen Inc. Book 2) (20 page)

“Lex.” I reached for him.

“Don’t,” he hissed. “Just—give me a minute.”

My anxiety tripled because I had no idea why he was still so pissed, but I was a bit terrified that it was my fault.

Chapter
Thirty-Six

Lex

I
will not punch my best friend, I will not punch my best friend
. I’d been serious as hell, repeating that same mantra over and over again in my head as my fists clenched at my sides while Ian continued insulting not only me, but the entire freaking situation!

If a dude calls your best friend a seven, you sure as hell do something about it, right?

He’d brushed it off.

The way Ian brushes off everything that has to do with Gabi and me. I was sick of it, sick of having to pretend in front of him.

“You”—I found my voice, unbuckled my seat belt, and turned to face Gabi—“are absolutely gorgeous.”

A red blush stained her cheeks. “Lex, it’s fine. I mean—”

I held up my hand. “Let me finish.”

She swallowed, her eyes darting to the center console while she wrung her hands together.

“You have the most amazing smile I’ve ever seen. It’s like staring at the sun . . .” I sighed. “I get lost in your eyes every time they lock onto me, and I’m ashamed to admit that some of the reason I’ve pushed you away lies in the fact that those very trusting eyes saw too much. Damn, they still see too much, but I’m done.” Another sigh slipped out. “Gabs, I’m so done with this, whatever it is.”

Gabi looked horrified, as if I’d just run over her pet. Her eyes got so huge it was hard to concentrate. Damn, she was gorgeous.

Her breaths came fast and harsh as she searched my eyes. With a mumble she said, “Okay then.”

I cursed and ran my hands over my buzzed head. “I like you. A lot. And if Ian can’t handle that, then screw him! I’m . . . just . . .” I shrugged. “I’m making a total ass out of myself right now . . . But I refuse to let another minute go by with you believing you’re a seven, or even a ten, when you’re a twelve, hell, a fifteen. When every time you look at me, it’s like seeing the sunrise over the mountains, its rays lighting up everything around it so even if someone wants to stay in the darkness, they won’t, not for long, not when you’re around.”

I’d stopped looking at her—probably wouldn’t have had the balls to say any of it if I did look—so I stared at my steering wheel. Something wet dropped onto my hand. I glanced up and found she was crying.

“That’s why you call me Sunshine?”

I smirked. “Even when I insult you it’s a compliment, Gabs.”

She punched me in the shoulder.

“I deserved that.”

“You really mean . . . all those things?”

“Yeah.” My voice cracked. “I really do.”

“You know I hate you, right?” She reached for me, grasping the front of my T-shirt and tugging my body as close as possible.

“Oh, I know.” I nodded smugly. “I hate you too.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

Her lips twitched. “Okay.”

“Okay.” My mouth met hers in a searing kiss.

Gabi’s hands pressed against my chest, then spread around my shoulders and hooked behind my neck. “You taste good.”

“Like sunshine?” I joked.

“Yeah.” She laughed against my mouth. “Like sunshine.”

I couldn’t pull her into my lap, even though that was all I wanted, and the idea of hopping into the backseat had merit, except it was Gabi, and she was more than a quick screw in the back of a car.

Our tongues tangled together as our mouths synced with kiss after dizzying kiss.

“Ian’s going to think you killed me,” Gabi breathed, mouth swollen. She broke away and then rested her chin on my shoulder, running her hands up and down my neck.

Shivering, I returned her hug and closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of vanilla and wildflowers. “Yeah, probably.”

“Pizza?”

“Can’t I just eat you?”

“Why do you have to ruin every moment?” She laughed against me.

“According to Ian I’m an asshole, so . . . from here on out, let’s just assume the worst, shall we?”

“You’re not . . .” Gabi chuckled, then made a face. “Only sometimes . . . like a few hours out of the day.”

“Good to know you have such a high opinion of me.”

She winked. “Always.” After buckling her seat belt, she spread her arms wide and smiled. “Okay, let’s get home before he calls the cops.”

I snorted and started the car. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Won’t be the last.”

“Nope.”

She reached for my hand. “Lex?”

“Yeah?” The last thing I wanted was to share her with Ian. “What’s up?”

“We’ll tell him together . . . But let’s wait until after my family dinner this weekend, alright? He’s going to take it hard, and I don’t know, I just think we should wait. I’ll tell Blake first. That way, when he does find out, she can talk him through it.”

“Whatever you want, Gabs, you know I’d agree to anything.”

“Anything?”

“Gabs,” I warned.

“My car’s been acting up. You should probably go see what’s wrong with it . . . shirtless . . .” She nodded. “Maybe rub a bit of oil on your face . . . No.” She clapped her hands, scaring the shit out of me. “Oil on your abs . . . Oooo, can I put it on?”

“How did we go from telling Ian about us to me suddenly playing auto-shop porno in the front yard?”

“You did say ‘anything.’ It’s your own fault.”

I kissed her hand, then regretfully let it go as we pulled up to the house.

As expected, Ian was standing out on the front step, his eyes worried.

“He’ll make a great mom someday,” Gabi joked as she slowly unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car.

Shit.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Ian knew, but the minute he pulled Gabi in for a hug, he locked eyes with me.

It was a warning.

I’d seen that look on his face before.

And I sure as hell didn’t want to see it again, but this time? I wasn’t backing down; I couldn’t.

I just hoped our friendship could survive what was about to go down.

Not for my sake.

For hers.

Sleep wasn’t happening, not with Gabi right across the hall from me. Hell, it was like living at my parents’ house all over again, only this time Ian was the parent, and I knew he wouldn’t just be disappointed if he found me in bed with her.

No, he’d save the disappointment until after he pushed me out the window and chased me down the street with his car.

I let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling.

Gabi had her date with Mark tomorrow evening, and that pissed me off. The entire situation made me want to physically maim him.

I’d even gone so far as to do a background check on the guy, and not the legal kind either.

He was fine. She was safe with him, but the bastard did have some weird fetishes.

And in my book a weird fetish for old libraries basically meant he was one bad choice away from snapping and needing to be institutionalized.

I really hoped Gabi did a good job so she could be done with him and move the hell on.

Was this how every client was going to be?

My fingers itched to do damage to the prick’s credit score, just like they itched to check Gabi’s bank accounts and discover where all her money was going.

And food.

She’d eaten her pizza like a ravenous cougar, devouring three pieces before coming up for air and locking eyes with me.

When I asked her when she last ate, she shrugged me off and started asking Ian about Blake’s next game.

A light tapping at my door startled me, before it opened. Gabi shut it quietly, locked it, then tiptoed over to my bed. “Room for one more?”

I pulled back the duvet. “Thank God you can read minds.”

“You’re not the only superhero in this house.”

“Super villain,” I corrected.

“Nah.” Gabs sighed against my chest, her soft breath warming my skin. “This afternoon . . . when you said I was a twelve . . .” She yawned. “And told me why you called me Sunshine . . .” Her nails danced along my chest. “Hero.”

“I did save a frog once.”

“We should probably notify the chamber of commerce, just in case they want to throw a parade or something.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Heroes never die.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Games in bed? And no rope? Losing your touch, Mr. Luthor . . . and I choose truth.”

“How many times have you thought about me in the shower?”

She pinched my nipple. I let out a little yelp. “Twice today while rubbing myself down with my loofah.”

“Say rubbing yourself down, again.”

“Nope.”

“Damn it! Another opportunity lost!”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

“He wants a dare, hmm?” Gabi leaned up on her elbows. “I dare you to . . . knock on Ian’s door naked and ask him if he has towels.”

“That’s a daily occurrence. I’m always out of towels, always naked. Next?”

Gabi’s eyes narrowed. “Let me wrap you in a blanket for five minutes, arms pinned.”

I shivered. “Hell no.”

“Aw, you said dare. This is it, no take backs!”

“Oh look, you won the game, we should probably sleep or have sex. I’m down for either.”

“Loser.”

“The last person who called me a loser was Ian. We were in fifth grade. I rest my case.”

Gabi made the
L
sign with her fingers against her forehead and burst out laughing.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Lex . . .” She moved to straddle me, and my entire body jumped to attention. “Please?”

“Stop that,” I hissed as she rocked against me. “Play fair!”

Gabi leaned over, her hair kissing my chest as her hips ground into me. “Is it still no?”

“Hmm . . .” I laced my fingers behind my head. “Take off your shorts and move a little to the left, then the right, up and down a bit, and we’ll see.”

“You really need to burn all those manuals.”

“Hey! Some people need direction!”

“Do I?”

“Hell no!” I gripped her ass with my hands. “Honestly, even if you accidently fell onto my dick, it would still be the best sex of my life.”

“I’m trying to find romance in that.”

“You won’t.” I nodded. “So I’d stop trying.”

She moved her hips again while I hissed out a curse.

“Still no?”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll let you pin me underneath the blanket for
three
minutes, and then my dare is over, deal?”

She nodded.

“And then I get sex as a reward, lots of sex, and you can’t complain when I ask you to channel your inner gymnast.”

“Seriously, you’re so romantic I can hardly keep my clothes on,” she said in a dry voice.

I slapped her on the ass and closed my eyes. “Okay, I’m ready, but for the record you’re doing this against my will. I have a totally legitimate fear of being trapped beneath things. It’s called claustrophobia, not to be confused with medorthophobia, which I clearly don’t have.” I wouldn’t have had claustrophobia either, except that Ian had contributed to my irrational fear by trapping me in sleeping bags during our childhood camping trips.

“The fear of erect penises?” She wrapped the blanket around the front of my body, then sat on me while my arms stayed pinned to my sides. “How would I confuse the two?”

I squinted at her face. “How do you even know that?”

Gabi squirmed, and then her cheeks stained red. “We were talking about phobias in my psych class, and well, let’s just say that a certain ex-boyfriend said he had a friend who suffered from it.”

“Bullshit!” I burst out laughing. “Please tell me Mark’s afraid of his own junk. It would make my life.”

“We never had sex, so I wouldn’t know.” Gabi leaned across me, using her body weight to pin me down. “Maybe he’s just afraid of the sudden . . .” Her cheeks reddened more.

“Oh no you don’t.” I squirmed beneath her. “The sudden what?”

“Er, the sudden . . . ness.” She nodded. “You know, like, oh look, everything’s totally fine in the world, and then
boom
. Erection.”

I fought like hell to keep my laugh in. “Yeah, that’s not how that works.”

“It isn’t?”

“Maybe if you’re on a shitload of Viagra. It’s more of a slow . . . rise, you know, like when you do the Pledge of Allegiance and the flag—”

Gabi covered my mouth with her hand. “If you keep talking, I’m never going to be able to say the Pledge of Allegiance without thinking about man parts.” She pulled her hand away.

“My theory is this.” I tried to focus on her instead of the terror of being trapped. “Good ol’ Mark was giving a presentation in front of the class when his very hot, very single teacher looked at him . . . and that’s all it took—or to put it in your words,
boom
, erection. Traumatized for life as kids pointed and laughed.”

“Huh.” Gabi nodded. “Good theory.”

“I am a genius, so . . .”

“A genius who used to cry when Ian trapped you in sleeping bags.”

“Bastard used to zip them all the way up, Gabs!”

“Okay.” She pulled away from me. “All done, see? Aren’t you glad you didn’t punk out?”

“Yes. Thank you.” I rolled my eyes as my hands were freed. “Pay up, woman.”

She scurried off the bed, laughing. I chased after her and pulled her against my body. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“I like hard.”

“Well, lucky for you”—I kissed the side of her neck—“I’m already there.”

She turned in my arms and whispered, “Truth.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her about the food, the money, everything, but . . . Part of me felt guilty, and I didn’t want to kill the moment, so I gripped her by the ass and lifted her in the air. “How good does it feel when I do this?”

I jerked her shorts off of her body and kissed her.

“So”—she slammed her mouth against mine for a brief kiss—“good.”

“Truth or Dare?” She pulled back, a coy smile on her lips.

“Truth.”

“How many girls have been in your bedroom?”

“One,” I whispered. “The only one.”

“Good answer.”

“Heroic?”

“Don’t push it.” She giggled as we fell against the bed, tangled in one another.