Page 132 of Some Like It Hot

He gives me a grin and a head shake. “Whoa, that was hot.” Then he slaps the side of my ass and climbs out of bed. He scoops up his clothes and disappears into my bathroom.

I lay there, a little shell-shocked, making no move to fix my bra or adjust my destroyed panties. When he returns, I’m still sprawled out, wondering how the hell I allowed myself to fall in love with a man who has no interest in doing the same.

Pick the man who aspires to be a hermit.

Great job, girl.

Blakes is already fully dressed. Even his tie is tied. He bends over and kisses my forehead. “Have a good night. See you after the game.”

Then he swipes my panties and tucks them into his interior pocket.

“You’re stealing my underwear again?” I ask, bewildered.

He grins and flips the cups of my bra back up over my breasts. “Yep. They’re ruined anyway.”

“That’s weird,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say.

I actually think it’s hot, but I need any kind of barrier between us I can create.

Blake just gives me a wave and leaves. When the front door closes behind him, I roll over and punch my pillow.

Hard.

“You’re a fucking mess,” I tell myself. “Pull it together.”

I don’t listen to myself.

Instead, I jump out of bed and go on a frantic search for my phone in my apartment so that I can scroll through the wedding photos Blake posted of us online.

Except I don’t find my stupid phone.

CHAPTER 31

Aidan

“Hey Burke,” Wyatt calls as I walk into the common room. “I think your girlfriend just got married.”

I frown at him. He thinks he’s so hilarious. “What are you talking about?” I head for the fridge.

He’s lounging on the couch across the room, but I can see he’s scrolling on his phone.

“Do you know Blake Wilder?” he asks me.

I turned slowly. “Yeah. Why?”

“I’m a huge hockey fan. I follow the Racketeers. And they just shared a social media post from Wilder. I went over to his account and…yeah, he got married this afternoon.”

I feel like a cold fist is suddenly squeezing my heart. What he’s saying doesn’t make sense. But I also have a terrible feeling that it might make a whole lot of sense and I am about to be very upset.

“Okay, so Wilder got married this afternoon. So what?” I open the soda in my hand and take a sip. I don’t even taste it. I have no idea what flavor I pulled out.

“Well, I know I only met Elise briefly, but this woman in the white dress who he’s dipping back and kissing the hell out of looks a lot like her.”

I casually stroll toward him not wanting to let on that the icy fist in my chest is making way for a fiery anger.

What the fuck did these two do?

They wouldn’t have actually gotten married, right? No way.

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