Page 49 of Fumbled Into Love

“I didn’t know you had a cat, Deon!”

Declan, wearing a pirate hat and eyepatch, scratches behind Gordie’s ear, and he purrs deeply.

What the fuck?

If there was one person I was confident he would hate more than me, it would be Declan.

The number of times Gordie has proven me wrong: a million.

Nathalie’s head lifts, offering a beaming smile when she spots me. My footsteps falter at the strength of that smile and the impact of it. Fuck, I like how she looks at me. Like my presence in a room brightens her mood. Savannah rarely made me feel that way.

It terrifies me how I’ve begun to crave her. Her presence. Her attention. I knew it was going to happen, but the strength of it is worrisome.

I want her lips against my skin and to know what sounds she makes beneath my tongue.

Desire around her is not novel, but now is the worst time to imagine her writhing beneath me, my name on her tongue as she begs. Nathalie cocks her head when I stop in the middle of the kitchen.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I cannot get a boner in these tight-ass Hobbit pants.

I spin on my heel, escaping into the closest room. Only when the door is shut can I breathe again. That desire, thatneedfor another person, has been absent in my life since Savannah.

It’s not something I thought I was still capable of.

Only a heavy amount of deep breathing and thoughts of how concrete is made calms the boner enough to re-enter the party.

I notice the seventh person in the group when I reach Nathalie.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Lachlan purrs, his Australian accent thick as he clasps her hand, crouching down to meet her gaze. “I would remember.”

My vision darkens with jealousy as Nathalie giggles. I slide past Lachlan and fall to the floor, sitting as close as physically possible to Nathalie.

Her shoulder brushes my arm, and it calms a fraction of the annoyance vibrating in my bones. Lachlan can go hit on someone else's girlfriend.

Not mine.

“I see you’ve met mygirlfriend, Nathalie.” I aggressively emphasize the word ‘girlfriend,’ metaphorically pissing all over her to mark my territory.

It’s not subtle, and I don’t care.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” he says. A silentno dramasfrom the sun-kissed Australian. Smart move. It wouldhave been a shame if we had to ship him back to Australia because he hit on Nathalie.

As Lachlan retreats, Nathalie’s head falls on my shoulder.

“How many of those have you had?” I nod my head at the seltzer in her hand.

“Three. Maybe four. Seven if you count the ones I had at home.” She twists the can in her hand. I squeeze my eyes shut, the motion more erotic than it has any right to be. “I think I’m a little tipsy.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She motions for me to come closer. I lean down, our faces inches apart. “You play the jealous boyfriend role spectacularly,” she whispers.

I force a smile.

I wasn’t acting.

Nathalie finishes her seltzer and uses my body to hold herself up as Gordie chases a laser light.

“We should take a photo,” I say, wanting to hold onto this memory forever.

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