“Right, we’re screwed, because robots will be taking over the world. Lucky for you, I’ll be heading up the takeover, so I’ll save you a spot on the mother ship.” He rolled his eyes. “Seriously, I can’t believe I’m having a chick-talk with you, but there is no mathematic equation for chemistry. At all. You can’t force it, and you can’t predict it. She and David may look good on paper, but does he turn her on? Do his smiles make her want to die inside? His kiss—is it panty-melting? Isn’t that what chicks say?”
I held a hand up like a stop sign. “I think we need more alcohol if you’re going to use words like ‘panty-melting,’ Lex.”
“Pretend I’m a chick.”
“I’d rather not. Since I hate all women right now, I’m bound to do something stupid, like kiss you in hormonal confusion, then try to slam this bottle over your head in rage.”
“First off, don’t kiss me—it will ruin our friendship.” He held up one finger, then another. “Second, we’re both into girls, so I think it goes without saying that the experimental stage passed around the same time we went through English 101.” Another finger flipped up. “And third, if you hit me over the head with a bottle or even a pillow, I’ll probably take you down like I did in the sixth grade when you told Amanda that all the metal in my mouth made it so that aliens could see me from space.”
“You want me to talk?” I laughed bitterly. “About what it feels like to watch a girl you’ve just been screwing kiss another guy? Or the girl you care about lie to you? How about this?” I held one finger at a time as I made my own list. “It sucks. I want to kill David. I want her to hurt just as bad as I hurt. I want the pain in the middle of my chest to alleviate enough so I can freaking breathe. I want to slam the door in her face, then apologize and pull her into my arms and beg her to choose me.” I stared at my hand, all fingers extended, then shook it as though doing so would cross the items off my list. “I want so many damn things and I’m so confused that I think my only option is to drown myself in the whiskey we apparently don’t have enough of. That’s the truth.”
Lex was silent.
The kitchen clock ticked in the distance, grating on my already-frayed nerves.
“Well.” Lex cleared his throat. “You have two choices. Tell her you saw her and confront her face-to-face, or just . . . let her go without explanation. One’s easier on you, and the other is hard on you both. Think about it, and don’t make the douche mistake of being dramatic about it. Remember, we have dicks.”
“Could have fooled me, since it seems like she just kicked mine clean off and laughed while doing it.”
“That was your heart, not your dick. You know the difference, so stop being an ass and drink the rest of that whiskey.”
“Two drops left. Think if I close my eyes and click my heels together, it will turn into two bottles?”
“Do it and I’m calling you a chick again.”
With a frustrated sigh, I tilted back the bottle and tossed it in the trash, then pulled my phone out of my pocket.
Seven missed calls.
All from Blake.
“What’s it gonna be?”
“I’m a fixer,” I said, still staring at my phone. “So I’m going to fix it. We’re still under contract, but as per our agreement stated in the last section, at least for Blake, if he takes her out on a date and kisses her, the contract is complete.” I glanced over at his laptop. “Terminate it.”
“Uh.” Lex shoved to his feet. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“What?” I sneered. “That’s what she wanted at the beginning, and regardless of how she got it, it happened. Terminate the damn contract, ask for payment, and delete her information from my schedule while you’re at it. I have to meet with Vivian in the morning, and then I have a new client next week.”
“Ian, think about this.” Lex started toward me. “By ignoring her, you take the chance that—”
“That what?” I yelled. “That she’ll be gone forever? She already is. She made her choice. She’s been in my bed every freaking night for the past damn near two weeks, and still she kissed him back. She kissed him, Lex. I’d almost rather she slept with him.” He knew as well as I did how personal a kiss could be. Sex could be mindless, but kissing? It never was. Thousands of thoughts led up to the kiss, millions of sensations took place during, and it was the only act of foreplay that replayed in women’s minds, most of the time more than sex, for years to come.
You remembered every moment of your first kiss with someone.
Your first time having sex? In a lot of instances, it’s cringeworthy, not notable, embarrassing, not good enough.
Kissing, though, was always remembered.
And there was always a reason for it.
“Ian, I’m going to ask you one more time—are you sure?”
“Delete the file, Lex. I’m still your boss, technically, right?” It was a low blow. Even though we were partners, I had a slightly larger stake in the company—60 percent. I knew my bringing his attention to it stung.
He looked pissed, ready to punch me in the jaw. “Yes.”
“Then do it.”
I left him in the dark living room and stomped my way up the stairs. When I was halfway up, the doorbell rang.
Lex answered it, like I knew he would.
“Is Ian here?” Blake asked.
I paused on the stairway, lingering in the shadows, eavesdropping.