Cheater (Curious Liaisons 1)

I punched him in the shoulder. “The hell, man! That’s Avery, little girl Avery, the one that’s working for me now. I texted you about her yesterday! And that’s her best friend. You can’t just screw her best friend and then expect it not to affect my workday! I have to see Avery on a daily basis—you screw her friend over, and she’s going to blame me!”

Thatch’s eyes narrowed. “And you care why?”

“Because she’ll make my life more of a living hell.”

Thatch peered around the corner as Avery’s laughter trickled into the custom kitchen. “Yeah.” His eyebrows rose. “You realize she’s like a fourth your size, right? You could sit on her, and she’d probably puke up her pizza.”

“I’m sure that’s what I’ll do, then. Thanks for the wisdom. When I’m at work, irritated as hell, I’ll just sit on my new intern?”

He shrugged.

“Helpful,” I snapped.

“Look, Austin’s hot.” His grin was shameless. “And I haven’t gotten laid in a few days. Besides, she doesn’t seem to care that I’ve done nothing but stare at her tits for the past two hours. Get this, she asked to see my bedroom.”

“Oh gee, Thatch, maybe while you guys are back there you can show her your comic book collection.” I punched him again and swore while he cackled.

Bastard really did have comics, not that it mattered.

“Or . . .” He held up a finger. “I could just screw her sideways into Sunday.”

“Solid plan.” I exhaled. “I’m just going to go.”

“No!” He held out his hands. “You have to take the other one.”

“Avery,” I said through clenched teeth. “Not a chance in hell. You invited her here—ergo, you uninvite her so you can get in her best friend’s pants. I refuse to help.”

“I’ll fix your nose.” He winked.

“Low blow, you cock-sucking bastard.”

He sighed and ran his hands through his overly long, shaggy blond hair. If you didn’t know he was a plastic surgeon, you’d think he were a nomad living on the beach with a surfboard as company. “Look, just make up some lame excuse about getting her into bed at a decent hour so she can be fresh for Monday.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Is it?”

“Thatch.”

“Dude, you cheat on chicks all the time. Just do what you do best—get her out so I can get in.” His chest puffed out like he was proud of his own wordplay.

“It’s not cheating.” I rolled my eyes. How many times did I have to explain myself? Especially to my best friend.

Avery’s laughter caught my attention again.

I’d always loved her laugh.

Now it just reminded me that I’d gone four years without it. Laughs are funny like that; just like scents, they can be attached to memories you’d rather forget.

“Fine.” I let out a defeated sigh. “But you owe me, big.”

His only answer was to pull out a bottle of Prisoner sweet red wine and shrug.

“Minion!” I yelled, turning the corner and entering the living room. “Time to go.”

Avery crossed her arms and leaned back comfortably against the couch, stretching out her legs; they went on for days. I ignored the way they swelled gently into her full hips, just like I didn’t curse my best friend to hell when she licked her luscious lips and muffled out, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Pretty sure”—I stalked toward her—“I didn’t ask what you think or thought. It’s getting late, and as much as I’m loath to admit it, I need you on your A game next week at work, alright? I would hate for you to get fired, live on the streets with the bums, and end up digging through trash cans for a Twinkie, all because you stayed up too late and refused to go night-night.”

Avery’s eyes narrowed into tight slits. “You’re—you’re—”

“Go.” Austin shrugged. “Besides, I think Thatch and I”—she grinned and released a happy sigh—“have some really important work to do too.”

“Slut,” Avery coughed.

“Jealous?” Austin fired back.

“She has a boyfriend,” I said smoothly, confidently, looking back and forth at Avery and then Austin. “Right? Male dancer?”

“Um.” Austin’s cheeks reddened as she slowly nodded. “Y-yes, she does.”

I don’t know why I did it, why my teenage self suddenly came alive like a vampire at night and decided to launch my adult body across the room and slap a hand over Avery’s mouth. “What’s his name again?” I said.

Avery tried to bite my hand.

Austin kept mumbling.

Avery kept biting.

Until Austin finally said, “I forget. They’ve only gone on two dates.”

“What?” I roared, pulling my hand back. “You slept with him after two dates?”

Avery groaned and covered her face with her hands. “You have no right to be angry when you sleep with a different girl every single night.”

“He doesn’t sleep with anyone on Sundays,” Thatch piped in as he made his way into the living room, where the third world war was breaking out.

“Thanks,” I said through clenched teeth.

He shrugged and offered Austin a glass of wine. “Want to see my comic book collection?”

I moaned, while Avery burst out laughing.

“Is that what the kids call it these days?” Austin stood and let out a sultry laugh. “Tell me you have costumes to go with, and I’m in.”

“God, where have you been all my life?”

“I think it’s time to go,” Avery whispered against my fingers.

Her lips were hot.

Her tongue touched my skin.

And I suddenly didn’t want to wash my hand—ever.

Which clearly meant that Avery and Austin were bringing down the average age of the group by their collective immaturity. Great, by next week I’d be twenty-one again, doing Irish car bombs and puking in the streets. Couldn’t wait for that fun!

Thatch led Austin to the bedroom, and I held out my hand to Avery. Naturally, she slapped it away because she was an ungrateful pain in my ass, but at least I’d offered.

We started walking out of the apartment in silence.

“Don’t forget your purse!” I called out just as she passed it.

With a near stumble and face-plant against the counter, Avery grabbed her purse and hooked her arm around it, then her blurry eyes connected with mine.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” She laughed while she said it.

I counted to five.

I was trying to keep myself from dropping enough F bombs to make her sob her eyes out and impale me with the shoes she was still having trouble walking in. If she was drunk, I couldn’t just happily send her on her way.

I had to take care of her. Damn me to hell.

“Come on,” I said in a gruff voice. I was gentle as I wrapped my arm around her waist and helped her walk toward the elevator.

She clung to me.

I didn’t expect to like holding her—or to move a little closer while she nestled her head against my chest and yawned. “I’m tired.”

“Well, it’s one in the morning.”

“That’s so early!”

“God, was I ever that young?” I asked, mostly to myself.

Her body slumped heavily against me as the elevator surged down toward the lobby.

“Hey, where do you live? I’ll get you a car.” I shook her a bit.

She didn’t move; instead, she wrapped her arms tighter around my neck and made a little mewling sound that was cute as hell.

Her breath was hot against my neck, her body soft.

“I better get a damn medal for this,” I whispered to myself, careful not to wake her as I lifted her into my arms and walked the two blocks to my place.

By the time we reached my apartment, she was full on snoring, and every few minutes she whispered, “Twinkie.”

I’d like to think I was the reason she wa

s dreaming of Twinkies chasing her since a Twinkie was one of the last things I’d mentioned to her before she conked out.

She was a strong little thing, clinging to me like she was afraid I was going to put her down.

It had been a long time since I’d let a woman cling to me at all. All arms and legs, wrapped around me, with no sex in the foreseeable future.

Just thinking about sex with her had my body responding when it needed to stay the hell dormant. Like a bear during the winter.

I didn’t turn on any lights as I walked into the spare bedroom and laid her across the bed.

I would not take care of her.

I would not put a blanket over her or make sure she had water by the nightstand.

Nope.

She did this to herself.

Not me.

I shrugged and got as far as the door before I stopped, turned, saw her smile in her sleep, and heard her make a quiet sound. With a curse, I banged my forehead against the doorframe a few times before returning to the room, pulling the covers back, and slipping her beneath them, but not before taking off her shoes.

I even went so far as to go into the adjoining bathroom, get a glass of water, and set it by her bedside.