Page 45 of Boyfriend
“All right,” she says, one hand on her hip. “Let’s get on with this charade. Although I’m sure he’s got the message by now.”
“What charade?” a gruff voice barks at close range.
Fuck. I look up to see Price standing right behind her. “Nobody’s talking to you, are they?”
“Asshole,” Price growls. “You and this stuck-up bitch can have each other. I wouldn’t want your sloppy seconds anyway. She and her mom were just trailer trash.”
At the mention of her mom, pain flashes in Abbi’s eyes.
“Hey, fucknuts,” I growl, my blood suddenly pounding in my ears. “Now you’ve really done it. Take this outside?”
“No,” Abbi gasps, her hand shooting out to grasp my wrist. “Don’t get into trouble over him. He’s not worth it.”
Price makes a low chuckle. “Please. Make my day.”
I really want to. I could flatten him in seconds. I’m sure of it. But Abbi is begging me with her eyes not to.
Shit. It would feel great to deck him. But I know his type. He’ll call the cops and press charges for assault. Coach will lose his mind. I can hear the shouting already.
None of that matters, though. Only the look on Abbi’s face right now. It’s pleading with me for patience. If I hit Price, I’ll make her life more difficult in other ways.
“Okay,” I say softly. “Okay, honey.”
Now, the trouble with being a great actor is that sometimes you lose yourself in your work. That must be why I lean forward and give Abbi a very gentle kiss on the lips. It’s a kiss that says: your big strong boyfriend listens to you.
At least it was supposed to say that. But the moment our lips touch, something snaps. I’m not the fake boyfriend anymore. I’m not even Mr. Smooth. I’ve gone past that and straight on to Mr. Sexy Beast.
And Mr. Sexy Beast is famished. His kiss is firm and full of questions. Isn’t this nice? Can I have a taste? Why haven’t we done this before?
At first, Abbi goes still with surprise. But she gets over her shock in a heartbeat. Two hands quickly grip my jacket. Then she stands up on tiptoes to improve our connection.
I tilt my head and tease the seam of her lips with my tongue. Everything is bliss as Abbi lets out a little moan of longing.
But the sound seems to wake her up. Her eyes fly open again, and she takes a quick step backward. “Wow, I…” She takes a deep breath.
And then we both say “Sorry,” at the same time.
Yup. It’s awkward.
I look around and see a scowling Price on the far side of the room. He’s offering another waitress a walk to her car. And she’s turning him down.
Price is an honest-to-god predator. And I can’t forget that Abbi only asked for protection from him. She didn’t ask for my tongue in her mouth.
Right. Okay. I grab my backpack off the back of the bar stool and gesture for Abbi to precede me out of the Biscuit.
I have got to get a hold of myself. Abbi is a friend who asked for my help. The least I could do is not maul her like Price.
We walk away from the restaurant and head up the hill toward Abbi’s place in silence. I hope I haven’t totally fucked things up between us. But I’m not sure how to ask. And we arrive at the creaky front steps of her Victorian building before I work it out.
“So…” She clears her throat as we climb the steps. I always walk her all the way to the door.
“So.” I sigh. “Back there, that was…”
“Really great,” she says quickly. “Just putting that out there.”
Dude, Mr. Smooth whispers into my ear. You got this.
“It was, wasn’t it?” I smile at her. “And you know what?”
