Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

“It is.” I tried not to grin. Why was she nodding so much?

“And”—she held out her hand—“I will now bid you farewell.”

I smirked. “Tell me how much you hate yourself for saying ‘bid’ and ‘farewell’ in the same sentence.”

“So, so much.” Her cheeks reddened. “Now shake on it.”

“What exactly are we shaking on?”

“No discussing last night, ever.”

I stood toe to toe with her, chest to chest. “I think I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

“YOU PROMISED!”

“You’re the one who has a problem with it. Not me.”

“But—”

“I’m thinking I may redecorate my office with pictures of your ass. Hey, I know, a screen saver of you in nothing but my shirt—”

“You are seriously the devil!” She clenched her fists and with jerky movements tried to put on her dress. “I can’t believe I thought this would be kept between us.”

“It will be,” I said smoothly.

She paused. “Then what—”

“I’m just making the point that the minute you walk out this door, there will be another time when we will discuss this—and, Avery?”

“What?” She gritted her teeth.

“You will be in my bed again before this week’s over.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

I shrugged.

“You’re a menacing man whore! I refuse to sleep with you after you’ve stuck your . . .” She screwed up her face and pointed at my dick. “Business all over town.”

“I’m hurt.” I really was, but I wasn’t going to let her see it. “And why do you care? Didn’t you say only one day?” I had her there.

“Exactly.” She nodded. “One day.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Well . . .” I grinned as I read the short message. “Look at that. The universe is even on my side. I don’t have a Thursday anymore.” Nothing like being dumped via text.

“But . . .”—her eyes narrowed—“are you tricking me?”

“You know what sounds fantastic?” I ignored her anger. “A hamburger, say, tonight?”

“YOU HORRIBLE HUMAN BEING!” she shouted. “How dare you lure me into your bed with beef!”

“And extra cheese. I’m thinking . . .” I tapped my chin, trying to think of her favorite. “Swiss?”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Extra fries.”

She glanced down. “Does this meal include fry sauce?”

“Do I look like I’m insane? Of course it includes sauce.”

She cleared her throat, put her hands on her hips, then smoothed down her dress, only to then put her hands on her hips again. “Pick me up at seven.”

It was cute as hell how she tried to stomp by me, stopped, backed up, and then very innocently stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks for the steak.”

I felt the buzz from that kiss hours later when I was in my office, and later that afternoon when I was staring at my phone and the five missed calls from my mother—the buzzing finally stopped.

Mom: PROBLEM.

Chapter Thirty-Two

AVERY

“I slept with the devil,” I whispered as I cupped my hand over Austin’s ear and prayed she wouldn’t repeat what I’d just said in the packed Starbucks.

“Huh?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked back and forth between me and her ever-present iPhone, which was lighting up with a new message every few minutes.

I rolled my eyes. “Answer your stupid boyfriend, and then I need all of your focus!”

“One sec.” She held up her hand and started furiously texting, then smiled like an insane person down at the screen. She was like five seconds away from kissing a mobile device. “He’s so sweet.”

“Uh-huh.” I took a sip of my drip coffee, irritated that my best friend couldn’t spare five seconds of her time to help me through my first pre-midlife crisis—because that’s what this was. I’d made a poor life choice, twice, and had somehow found myself on the road to hell because he’d convinced me to say yes again!

I chugged.

And then Austin’s hand was on mine. She pulled the cup from my mouth, and coffee dribbled down my chin.

“Oh, honey, I didn’t know it was that bad—and drip is meant to be sipped.” She handed me a napkin. “So what happened?”

“I don’t know!” I wailed. “I mean, I know what happened. I can’t stop thinking about what happened, and then I went ahead and did it again because that always makes things better, more sex!”

I shouted the last part, earning the glare of another patron. I lifted my coffee in salute and was promptly ignored.

Austin was quiet for a second and then leaned forward. “Can you please repeat that . . . ?”

“AUSTIN!”

“You said ‘sex.’”

“Yes.” I nodded slowly. “When a man and woman decide they find each other attractive and all the hormones start firing and juices release and your ability to make logical choices flies out the window because you see a naked chest—but, Austin . . . that man’s chest.”

“Back up, who’s the man?”

“The devil. Did we not just establish this?”

Her eyes widened. “Holy shit, you slept with Lucas Thorn?”

A barista walked over to us and handed Austin her pastry, then locked eyes with me. “You know Lucas Thorn?”

“I, uh . . .” I lifted my coffee into the air to buy some time. “He’s my boss?”

She blinked. “You slept with your boss?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked sweetly.

“I used to be Thursday.” She held out her hand.

I had no choice but to shake it.

“And you are?” She was being nice. But meeting someone who he used to sleep with only hours after leaving his bed? Not the best way to start a morning. Just another painful reminder that I was in over my head.

“I’m nobody,” I finally answered. “No day attached to my name or anything. I mean, not that that’s bad—I mean, good for you, woman power, rawr.”

Austin kicked me under the table.

The barista started laughing. “If it makes you feel better, I only lasted a week before I told him I couldn’t take it.” She smiled. “Do yourself a favor, do him a favor—don’t let him label you with a meaningless day. If he tries, he’s not the one for you.”

“Thanks.” My voice came out scratchy and emotional. By the time she left the table I was dabbing my eyes with a brown crinkled napkin, and Austin was staring at me like I’d grown five heads.

“You slept with him,” she said. Again. As if I wasn’t painfully aware of what had taken place last night.

“Yes.”

“And now you have a weird chest fantasy.”

I grinned. “You have no idea.”

“And I never will, because I’m not asking for those types of details, but . . .” She leaned forward. “Are you seeing him again? I don’t want to be that bitchy friend that warns you not to go there—”

“Then don’t.”

“But . . .” She patted my hand, the one that was holding the napkin. “Thatch says the guy doesn’t commit—ever. And need I mention that your entire family is going to shit a brick? What about Kayla? Do you even realize the ramifications?”

I slouched. “Well, I mean, long story short . . . Because you and Thatch hooked up, Lucas had to take me home and make sure I didn’t get kidnapped on the street corner, then one thing led to another and his sister saw me at his place.”

Austin’s eyes widened. “Tell me this story has a happy ending.” She raised both hands and crossed her fingers in front of her face.

“It did last night,” I said under my breath and then inhaled loudly. “I felt bad that his sister was going to assume the worst about him, okay? Our families have never been the same ever since the fallout.”

“Right,” Austin said

slowly. “The fallout from when he was found in bed with your sister!” She shouted that last part.

I covered her mouth with my hand to shush her. “Look, I haven’t forgotten what happened. It’s just for now. I mean, it’s just temporary. All the parents start talking again, everyone’s happy, crisis averted.”

Yeah, I so wished it would be that easy.

Austin slowly shook her head. “Except you slept with him. Lying to protect him, however misguided, is one thing—but having sex with him? Especially when you KNOW how he is?”

“What if this is the new me?” I asked, giving a nonchalant shrug. “What if I want to cut my hair, dye it pink, get a nose ring, and become the girl who only wants no-strings sex?”

My best friend knew me too well, knew my defensiveness was just my insecurity screaming at the top of its lungs and pounding its chest.

“Then you wouldn’t be you, Avery.” She handed me her pastry. Only a true friend would have noticed I’d been looking at the paper bag like I had tractor-beam eyes and could will it to float toward me. “And the last thing you need to do is change just because a man looks good naked.”