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The Matchmaker's Replacement Page 8
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I sipped on my drink and ignored the panic rising in my chest.
Friends.
Enemies.
We were both.
No need to add any more labels to what was already turning out to be the most confusing relationship of my life.
Chapter Ten
Gabi
Before I forget.” Lex crooked his finger. “Lean down, Sunshine.”
“I’m not giving you a view of my breasts, I don’t care if you’re breathing your last breath or the world will end if you don’t see nipple. Not happening.” I crossed my arms as if to make my point while Lex rolled his eyes and held up a small microphone. “Oh.”
“Feel stupid yet?”
“No.”
“Just let me fasten it between whatever the hell these are.” He pointed to my breasts and then, before I could protest, slid his hands into the front of my dress and attached a small microphone to the middle of my bra. My black dress had a V neck, so it wasn’t hard for him to access. His hands were warm, damn him.
“Done?” I asked in a high-pitched, airy voice that so didn’t sound like mine.
“Testing.” He spoke into my cleavage. “Testing one, two . . .”
“Now you’re just playing around.”
“Sunshine, if I was playing, your tits would know it”—he lifted his gaze to mine—“and you would too.”
I jerked away from him and straightened my dress. He held out an earpiece.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! This isn’t a sting operation!”
Lex gave me a condescending look and shrugged, still holding out the earpiece. “I’m not sending you in blind. Not someone like you.”
The comment stung, more than it should, which meant somehow the bastard was slinking his way back into my life. Normally I brushed off every comment that came spilling out of his mouth. So if I was actually taking some of his barbs to heart, I was letting him in. Again. Things had shifted between us, and they needed to stay the hell stable before I lost my mind. His gaze was lingering more than usual, as were his hands. I shivered.
“Fine.” I grabbed the earpiece and put it in my ear while Lex did the same and then spoke into a tiny microphone in his hand.
I nodded. “I hear you just fine, and no, I’m not going to fluff your towels.”
“But they need fluffing, Gabs, help a man out.”
“You don’t want me fluffing anything, believe me . . .”
“Fine.” He leaned back. “Now run along and prove to me you’re ready to start taking on clients, and good luck, Gabs. Remember, he still has a choice about whether he wants to hire us, mainly you . . . And remember, when the girl he’s obsessed with walks in and he doesn’t feel that what you’re doing is working, you’re not just making yourself look stupid, but Wingmen Inc. No pressure or anything.”
He crossed his arms. I seriously wanted to strangle him.
Instead, I turned on my heel and made my way toward my target. This really did feel like a sting operation, especially with Lex in my ear.
How was it possible that even through the earpiece, it felt like his voice was caressing my body? No, Gabs. No.
My mind conjured up the image of us kissing. Mouth watering, I nearly had to clench my thighs together as the feel of his tongue sliding into my mouth became such an electric turn-on that I whimpered.
“Don’t be scared . . . look sexy,” Lex ordered.
“I’m trying,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Sway your hips more.”
I tried swaying and nearly collided with the leather chair at the next table.
“Damn, woman, he’s going to think you’re drunk if you pull that stunt again.”
“Sexy, sexy, sexy,” I repeated under my breath.
Lex paused and then said, “Your ass looks nice . . .”
“Thanks, Lex.” I paused as warmth filled my chest. “That was actually really—”
“I can’t even tell you gained ten pounds.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Maybe take it easy on the Pirate’s Booty, Gabs.”
I paused, my heart galloping in my chest. “How’d you know about—”
“I nearly died in order to get you the last bag, Gabs, I know your obsession.”
“Stop doing that!”
“What?”
“Finishing my—”
“Sentences?” he guessed.
I let out a little curse, then flipped him off behind my back.
“Don’t encourage me, Gabs. You know what that gesture means, and I’m just desperate enough to bend you over the table and take what I can get.”
“So romantic . . . Tell me, would it be next to the chips and guacamole, or would you at least wait until dessert?”
He was quiet and then said in a hoarse voice, “Why eat food when I get you as an option . . .”
I opened my mouth to say something, but I was almost to Steve and he’d just turned around.
“Hey.” I nearly choked on my tongue as I sat down next to the guy I was hired to help gain the attention of the love of his life. Her name was Stella, and based on the pictures in the file, they looked like they could be brother and sister. It was a match made in heaven . . . At least it appeared so, since they had an eighty-percent chance of success once they passed the first three months of dating.
“He’s a computer science major, Gabs. You’re going to have to do better than ‘hey,’” Lex interjected.
Steve looked up. He had shaggy brown hair that gave me the impression that he was allergic to scissors. His hair covered one eye, leaving the other peering up at me in curiosity.
Brown. A pretty brown. I could work with that, right?
“You have nice eyes,” I said softly. “You should maybe make people aware you have two of them, otherwise they may mistake you for a pirate. Arggg.”
Lex let out a groan. “You did not just Jack Sparrow him.”
Steve smirked and then laughed out loud. “Yeah, that’s what I’m going for, dark and dangerous. Did it work?”
I nodded vigorously. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
He looked me up and down, then took a slow, cautious sip of his drink. “You’re here with that guy.” He pointed at Lex. “So, either this is a bet to see if you can get me to embarrass myself or”—his eyes narrowed—“you could be part of Wingmen Inc.”
Smiling, I pulled out the chair next to him. “Mind if I sit?”
“Beautiful and evasive,” he said over his glass. “I like it.”
“Funny, because that guy over there hates it.” I jabbed my thumb in the general direction of Lex.
“When have you ever heard me utter those words?” Lex said in an angry tone. “Dude’s a jackass. Walk away, Gabs, he was staring at your tits.”
I ignored Lex.
“Think he’ll kick my ass if I insult him?” Steve asked.
“Hell yes I’ll kick his ass, tell him, Gabs. His stomach is concave. If we were the last three people on earth and we had to eat him to survive, we’d starve.”
I shrugged. “He’s more lover than fighter, more bark than bite.”
“I’m not even insulted.” Lex sounded like he was yawning. “I have a hell of a bite . . . You just wouldn’t know. Poor Gabs. Hey, did you get that vibrator I sent to your house? Put my face on the box and everything.”
Too far. I mentally imagined myself punching Lex in the face and forced a smile. Focus on Steve. Steve was the important person, not Lex.
“He looks like he could rip me in two.” Steve coughed into his hand. “By blinking.”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Steve leaned in.
I cupped my hand and whispered, “In bed, girls call him Shorty.”
“Very funny, Gabs,” Lex said in my ear.
“Shorty?” Steve repeated. “Because of his . . .” He didn’t say the word.
“If he can’t say ‘penis,’ it leads me to believe he doesn’t know what it’s for, Gabs. Just saying. Object A goes into object B, and sometimes they produce a C . . . Oh, and just in case you were wondering, C stands for ‘conception.’”
Lex wasn’t easy to ignore, but I tried. I slid my hand across the table and patted Steve on the arm. “Let’s just say that when girls leave his bed, they always have a smile on their faces, but it’s not from pleasure . . . it’s from laughter.”
“They point and laugh?” Steve’s eyes widened.
“I think they would,” I said seriously, “if they could actually see the object they were pointing at, but, I mean, who has binoculars just laying around, right?”
“I do,” Steve said quickly.
“Of course he does.” Lex sighed. “And it’s huge, you felt it. Stop trying to insult King Lex.”
He’d named his penis.
Why was I not surprised?
“So . . .” I licked my lips. “Stella, huh?”
Steve immediately blushed, his cheeks burning a bright red as he looked down at the counter, then started playing with part of his frayed cuffs. “Yeah, well, I mean I’ve hinted that I like her, but I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“Ask him what he means by hint,” Lex instructed.
I cleared my throat. “So when you say ‘hint,’ you mean you went in for a kiss or tried to hold her hand? That type of hint?”
“I leaned.” Steve nodded seriously.
“Oh dear God,” Lex muttered.
“Oh.” I kept my expression steeled. “So, you . . . um, leaned toward her?”
Steve nodded vigorously. “You know that movie Hitch?”
“Sometimes I blame world hunger on Will Smith, just because I can. I mean, Hitch? He gave nerds everywhere the worst advice on the planet . . .” Lex’s monologue was hard to keep track of, considering I was supposed to be focusing on Steve.
“Yes.” I finally said. “The one with Will Smith?”
“He’s a baller.” Steve laughed. Though he said “baller” in such a painfully white way that I had to fight to keep myself from cringing, while Lex mocked him.
“Baller, yo, wanna go play some ball in our new kicks and bang some chicks in the back of my Benz? Word to your mother.”
My lips twitched into a smile.
“I know, I know.” Steve laughed harder. “It’s stupid to get dating advice from movies like Hitch, but I mean, I went in at least eighty percent for the kiss.”
“Doesn’t the movie say ninety?” I corrected, wondering why the heck he was taking advice from a ten-year-old Will Smith movie.
“I got to seventy-five and panicked,” Steve confessed in a defeated voice.
“Shocker,” Lex added.
“So that’s it,” I said, feeling the need to clarify. “You went in, she shut you down, and you haven’t tried since?”
“There haven’t been any good romance-novel moments, you know? I mean, I tried kissing her in the rain and I nearly face-planted against a cement wall because the sidewalk was slippery. And at the movies, when it got dark, I reached for her hand but she moved it to grab the soda.” He sighed. “I’m an idiot.”
“No.” I shook my head vigorously.
“Yes,” Lex said in a bored tone.
“That’s what I’m here for.” Just as the words came out of my mouth, Stella walked in the door. “Don’t look now, but she just walked in. This is all part of the plan, though, okay? Do you trust me?”
“No.” He laughed. “But I’m just desperate enough not to care.”
“Dude’s got more romance in his pinky finger than . . .” Lex’s sarcastic voice trailed off. Then he whispered, “Showtime, Sunshine, show me what you got.”
I quickly scooted my barstool close to Steve and then whispered in his ear. “Smile, but not too big. I’m going to grab your hand, alright?”
“Okay.” He looked ready to puke.
“Try not to blow chunks on me.” I giggled while moving my hand up his arm until I was gripping his bicep. “Wow!” I pulled back, then frowned. “You’re actually way more built than I thought!”
“Uh, thanks?” Steve looked confused.
“No, seriously.” I squeezed his arm again, then moved my hands to his other arm, running them up and down his skin. “You’re like . . . buff!”
His chest puffed out.
“He looks like what happens to pretzels when you throw them in water and they get all bloated and shit, but whatever,” Lex commented. “Good work. Stella’s looking over at you guys. If looks could kill . . .”
With a giggle, I leaned in toward Steve’s mouth. “I’m not going to kiss you, but I’m going to make it look like I want to. If she really likes you, she’s either going to leave and get super frustrated when you talk to her next, or she’s going to stomp over here and stake her claim.”
“Moment of truth.” Steve swallowed, his Adam’s apple bouncing down, then back up.
“Hey,” I said in a quiet voice. “If the worst happens, you’re still a great catch.”
“You’re just saying that because you want me as a client.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m saying that because everyone has something to offer the world, and if she doesn’t notice what you have, she isn’t worthy of keeping it in the first place.”
Steve quieted. His eyes zeroed in on my mouth, and suddenly I wasn’t sure if he was just playing along or really wanted to kiss me.
“Steve!” A high-pitched voice interrupted our moment. I glanced to the side to see a shaggy-brown-haired girl in a plaid shirt and black leggings put her hands on her hips and nearly jump into his lap. “Out on a weeknight?”
“My Steve’s crazy like that.” I winked.
“Your Steve?” Her arms crossed.
“Well done, grasshopper, well done,” Lex whispered his praise. I winked at him over Stella’s head.
“Hey, Steve, it was real, here’s my card.” I slid him the Wingmen Inc. business card and nodded. “We’ll be in touch?”
“Absolutely.” His grin was huge. “I’ll call you later.”
“I look forward to it.”
The minute I walked off, I heard Stella utter, “Who the hell was that?”
By the time I made it back to Lex’s table, he was already gathering our stuff and leading me out the door.
Adrenaline surged through me as we walked to our cars.
Slow clapping had me turning around.
Lex leaned against his Benz. “You’re hired.”
“Hmm, rich evil genius tells innocent girl she’s hired while standing in a dark parking lot? Should I be suspicious?”
“Hah!” Lex barked out a laugh, and the moonlight just made him look that much more sexy, dangerous. “I’m a put-it-all-out-there type of guy, no secrets.”
“Bullshit!” I laughed. “Don’t treat me like one of your whores, you have more secrets than the NSA!”
“Nice people, the NSA.”
“My point exactly.” I rummaged for my keys. “I gotta run, Lex. I’ll see you later.”
“Studying?” he guessed.
“Nope.” New job, new scary job that was only hiring a young girl for nights.
“Date?”
“Nope.” I forced my smile. “See ya, Lex.”
His smile fell. “Where are you going?”
“None of your b
usiness.” I slammed the door and drove off, hating that when I looked in the rearview mirror it was like leaving a magazine photo shoot. He really needed to stop being so good-looking.
Chapter Eleven
Lex
The week went by in a complete blur of boredom. There was nothing pressing going on with my classes, and since Gabs had aced my little test with flying colors, I was no longer needed as a trainer. But because Ian was still nervous about her handling male clients all by herself, I’d been promoted—or demoted, depending on how I looked at it—to her glorified babysitter. Though I’d like to think of myself as the Muscle.
Steve had signed up—and their second date was set for the following evening.
The drone of the TV was a welcome distraction from all things Gabi. My typical MO wasn’t to sit around on the weekend, but going out just seemed exhausting, and, as if to prove a point, I yawned. Holy shit, what was wrong with me?
I clicked through the channels and was finally settling on The Godfather when Ian walked in the door with Blake. It was still hard to believe that this was the girl whose daily wardrobe used to consist of giant dude sweats and tube socks. Looking at her now you’d think she just stepped off the runway. She rarely wore makeup, but something about the midriff shirts and low-slung jeans she wore did something to a guy. Not me. Clearly, athletes weren’t my thing. But Ian? Well, I think we discovered his kryptonite: tomboys who could challenge him to a pizza-eating contest and come out the victor while still being able to run a half marathon the next day. Funny that he’d broken one of his own rules by dating a client—then again, he was part owner and could do whatever the hell he wanted . . . within reason.
“Lex?” she called in typical loud Blake manner.
“Yup.” I didn’t look away from the TV.
“Are you sick?” She plopped down next to me on the couch.