Page 42 of Burn for You (Flirting with Forever 3)

Damon

Piper is an enigma. We’d squabbled yesterday at the gym. And then, to my surprise, she hadn’t argued when I’d put the gloves on her. And, oh God, just thinking about how her curvy body had come at me, fists flying into my mitts—it’d been the stuff dreams are made of. She’d sparred with me physically just as well as she does verbally, and it turned me on even more.

But then she’d shown me a soft spot, dropping her guard for just a few minutes. I’d seen into her devastatingly sweet soul. I’d become aware of what—besides me, of course—has been bothering her this whole time. She’s under way more pressure from her parents than I’d initially thought—an unbelievable amount, considering it’s coming from the two people who are supposed to love her most. The fear of disappointing them has her unsure of what she should do next. I dislike these people and don’t even know them.

Now what do I do? Take advantage of knowing just how torn she is by the whole situation? Steer her away from taking the department chair position? Or do I give in? Let her have it? There is no easy answer here. One of us is going to lose out. If she wins, I miss the opportunity to make it easier for us to send Elena to college. Not that the position will pay for much more than textbooks, but as Esme had pointed out, every little bit counts. Or, if I win, she could be free of the burden of having to please her parents. Who am I to say that’s what she really wants? She’s a go-getter, despite what her parents want. She’s brilliant, really.

If I win, do I lose my chance with her? Is that what I want? Would I be okay with that? Or is she who I want? I have no idea. I feel like I could maybe get behind this delicious love/hate thing Piper and I have going on, but then I wonder if I should be cancelling the date with Sherlock4Love. I almost feel like I’m cheating. But I’m not with either of them.

I shake my head in confusion. My hope is that if I do meet this other woman, I’ll see a clearer course of action, and maybe have a little less guilt over everything once I know what the actual stakes are. I don’t like feeling like a cheater when I’m not even in a relationship with anyone.

Piper, though … She’s something. If we had no other issues between us—no department chair position, no demanding parents, no sister to send to college, no Sherlock4Love—I’d go after her without wasting another second. Fuck yes, I would. I see that now.

My phone pings, and I glance down to see a message has just come in from Sherlock4Love. The first message that comes in is a photo—which we’ve never exchanged before—and oh my fucking God, it’s a hotter-than-hell partial image of a woman bathing, her legs emerging from water in a bathtub, bubbles all around the soft-looking skin of her thighs, feet propped up on the edge as she soaks. Holy hell. I can’t tell if my dick is still hard from thoughts of Piper or if I’m getting turned on by this woman online. Maybe both at the same time. I don’t know what to do with that.

The photo is accompanied by one single message.

Sherlock4Love to Prof.M.: I wonder how I’ll figure out who you are tomorrow night? The game is afoot. :)

Oh, boy. As much as I think I’m starting to feel things for Piper, I can’t back out on this girl—whoever she is. I just can’t.

Prof.M. to Sherlock4Love: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I’ll be the one waiting for you, of course. Use your razor-sharp deductive skills to figure it out, Sherlock.

Chapter 23

Piper

Fresh out of my bath, I pull on leggings and the T-shirt with the Sherlock quote that Madison had given me for Christmas. I felt decidedly naughty sending that sexy photo to Prof.M., but it’s now or never. I’m completely out of control with no idea which end is up anymore. I feel like I’m being torn in a thousand different directions at once. The only steady, dependable thing in my life is my state of utter confusion. And I’d decided while lying there in the bathtub—thinking about the craziness that is my life—that if I’m going to figure this out, maybe I need to really shake things up. Hence my first semi-naughty photo ever. I can’t believe I actually had the nerve to both take it and send it. It’s out in the cyberverse now; there’s no taking it back.

Thank goodness for our book club meeting tonight because there’s no better source of comfort for me than an evening with my girlfriends. We’ve been reading a new romantic suspense by my favorite indie author, and I wish I could say I’m ready to discuss it, but I have so much else on my mind, I’m afraid I’ll be no good to anyone. I’m mostly looking forward to girl talk, which is ironic because it’s usually me trying to keep everyone on track and talking about the actual books. Not tonight, though.

Thank goodness I’m hosting and had decided on a girls’ night in so that we can relax—not to mention have some privacy. I don’t need any extra people overhearing anything about the brand of chaos my life has become.

A light rap on the door has me breathing a sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness. The cavalry is beginning to arrive. When I open the door, a smiling Quinn automatically holds out both hands to me, a bottle of wine in one and my favorite hat and gloves in the other.

“Come on in.” My brow furrows as I reach for the knitwear. “Oh my gosh, did you go back and get these for me? I’d written them off after leaving them at the cider mill on Hadleigh’s birthday.”

“Oh.” She presses her lips together, eyes casting down for just a quick second. She refocuses on me with a wink. “You seemed upset that you’d left them behind, so after I dropped everyone off for the night, I went back for them. I keep forgetting to bring them to school for you.”

I narrow my eyes at her. I can tell there’s something not quite right about her behavior and wonder what she’s hiding, but then the doorbell rings again and the thought flies from my head.

Quinn whirls around and pulls the door open, finding everyone else has arrived at once. “Hello, my lovelies! Come on in. Piper and I were just about to crack open the bottle of wine I brought.” She eyes the other assorted bottles in their hands. “Looks like we are in good shape for the evening. Maybe too good.”

The girls rush inside, discarding coats and hats as they go, smiles all around. No one is aware of my inner turmoil yet, and I’m going to try to keep it that way for a little while, at least.

Quinn leads the way into the kitchen and we trail after her like little ducklings. I hand her my corkscrew from the drawer, and she makes quick work of opening several bottles of wine. Sophia turns around, opens a cabinet, and pulls down my stemless wine glasses, wrinkling her nose as she hands them off to Zoey and Madison. “I just figured, you know, after what happened the last time we all had wine together …” She tries hard to suppress a laugh.

Hadleigh catches her eye from where she’s seated at the kitchen island and lets out a rather unladylike giggle-snort. “Stemless, eh? I can’t help it that you hadn’t heard the joke about the sign hanging on the door of the out-of-business brothel.”

Madison snorts loudly as she accepts a full glass from Quinn. “Beat it! We’re closed!”

That sends us all into gales of laughter. At least this time no one is knocking over stemmed wine glasses as we lose our shit over the joke … again. I still say it was Hadleigh’s fault for not warning us. I’m still trying to get the wine stain out of the shirt I was wearing that night.

I gesture for all of them to follow me out to the living room where I’d planned for us to gather. I’ve got a selection of cheeses, crackers, sliced salami, and grapes among other things on a platter for us to nibble on while we talk. I look up from where I’ve just perched on a big pillow on the floor to see Sophia and Quinn each bringing a bottle of wine over to the coffee table. “Awesome. Now we don’t have to move for a while.”

I pull my Kindle off the end table and look at some of the highlights I’d made while reading as everyone settles in.

Madison starts us off. “I really liked this one. The romance was still the main plotline, but adding the suspense factor of not knowing who the killer was took it to a whole other level.”

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