Sucker Punched (12 page)

Macy’s texted me every day for the past ten days and it’s starting to scare the shit out of me. Not because I think she’s being clingy or anything. No, I’m freaking the fuck out because her texts are quickly becoming my favorite part of the day. 

She’s funny, and God, she’s smart. My new favorite pastime is finding ways to make her blush, but her comebacks are always quick and clever. I never thought I’d get a kick out of a girl bustin’ my balls, but when Macy does it. . .

That girl could serve me a shit sandwich and I’d eat it with a fucking smile, which is not good. I can’t afford to get Macy under my skin like that. Sooner or later things would go south, because they always do.

Everything I touch turns to shit. It’s a fucking fact of life, just like the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It’s a known fact that Blake Whitmore can’t keep a good thing going. I just can’t. Eventually I mess everything up, and it wouldn’t be fair to start something with Macy knowing I’d only break her heart.

So I’ve kept my distance. Tried to forget about this weird fixation with her by screwing other chicks. It helps, mostly. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about Macy sometimes while I’m with someone else. 

Before I know what I’m doing, my thumbs are typing out a text. It’s a horrible idea, and not just because Tori’s waiting for me upstairs. But I can’t seem to stop myself. I don’t know if it’s the booze that’s making me reckless or what, but as soon as I have it typed out, I hit send.

Me: Want to tell me about it over a drink right now?

Macy: I shouldn’t. I have class in the morning.

It’s not until she turns me down that I realize how much I want to see her. I make her smile every day. I’m tired of imagining her expressions every time we “talk.”

Me: What about over dinner tomorrow?

An incoming text bubble appears. But then it disappears, and the seconds stretch by with no new text. She must’ve changed her mind about whatever she was going to send me, so I shoot off another text.

Me: Friends occasionally meet from time to time, you know.

Macy: I know.

Me: Then why don’t you want to see me?

Macy: I’m afraid I’ll end up like Cinderella…

Me: I won’t let that happen. I promise.

Macy: Really?

Me: Yeah. We’ll go slow so you don’t gag.

I can’t help myself. Honestly, she walked right into that one.

Macy: Blake!

God, I can just picture her face as she read my text, her cheeks pink, her lips reluctantly curving into a smile. . . 

Damn it, I
need
to see her. And soon. I’m not even above begging.

Me: I’m kidding! C’mon, Duchess, don’t make me beg. I’ll be on my best behavior tomorrow, I swear.

Macy: You won’t make any inappropriate comments?

Me: I can’t promise that. But I promise to keep my hands, lips, and dick to myself. Deal?

I said we’d just be friends, and I meant it. I’ll keep all my appendages to myself. But I never said I’d stop flirting with her. I wouldn’t even know how to do something like that, and I have zero interest in trying.

Her text comes through a moment later, making me grin so wide my cheeks hurt.

Deal.

I’m on cloud nine for all of five seconds before Tori’s shrill voice rips me out of it. “Blake!”

Slipping my phone in my pocket, I look at the top of the stairs where she’s waiting for me impatiently. “What?”

“I’ve been calling your name for like a solid minute. Are we doing this or what?”

I glance back at the kitchen, seeing my dad eating a sandwich at the breakfast table while he reads the paper. Based on the way he’s steadfastly pretending not to hear Tori, I think it’s safe to say he’ll stay down here for the next hour or so to give us some privacy. “Yeah, sorry.”

I head up the stairs, knowing Tori may be the one I’m with tonight, but she won’t be the one I’m thinking about.

White puffs of air leave me as I exhale. It’s so fucking cold that I can’t tell how much of it’s smoke and how much of it’s my breath. Declan better hurry up. My balls are dangerously close to being permanently retracted inside me.

I take another drag of my cigarette when I spot him crossing the street. “’Bout fuckin’ time,” I mutter, flicking the butt away. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he says. “Savannah was asking too many questions. I think she knows I’m up to something.”

My eyes narrow at the display window of the fancy-ass jewelry store we’re standing in front of. There’s got to be upwards of a hundred grand in diamonds behind that glass. I feel underdressed just standing in front of it. “You sure about this?”

“About marrying the mother of my child?” Declan frowns, his tone coming out clipped. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Rolling my eyes, I open the door and gesture for him to go first. “It’s your funeral, man, but there are cheaper places to buy your casket. Just sayin’.”

Three pairs of eyes land on us as soon as we walk in, following us around the store. We don’t exactly look like the kind of guys you’d find in a joint like this. They probably think we’re here to rob them.

Scowling, I trail behind Declan until he stops at a glittering display case. “Why am I here, again?”

He shrugs. “Wanted to apologize for being a dick.”

“Which time?”

Declan glares at me, then goes back to looking at engagement rings. “I was out of line at the hospital. You were right, I never would’ve believed you. So. . . I’m sorry.”

My mouth turns down in surprise. As far as apologies go, it’s kind of crappy, but an “I’m sorry” from my brother is a rare thing.

Savannah must be making him soft.

I snort at the thought.

My eyes bounce around the case in front of us until they land on the corner of a price tag. I tilt my head to read it, and when I do, my eyes nearly bug out of my head.

“So how’s Dad?”

I sigh. “Gone. Woke up this morning to find a note on the fridge that said he went home.”

Turning to glance at me, he frowns. “How’d he get home?”

“Cab? Bus? I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t he just wait for you to give him a ride?”

“He walked in on me with a girl last night. Think it embarrassed him more than it did me.”

Declan winces. “Bet you scarred him for life.”

I shoot him a look as the corners of his lips start to curl. “He didn’t see anything. It hadn’t gotten that far yet,” I say, pulling out my phone to check the time.

“You got somewhere else to be?”

“Not until seven.”

He crosses his arms. “What happens at seven?”

“Relax, I’m meeting a girl not a bookie.” I might not have been the best brother in the world, and I might have gotten into a jam a time or two and needed Declan to bail me out, but I’m done with all that shit. I don’t know how many times I have to tell him that before he starts believing me.

“Is it the same girl from last night?”

“Nah. This one’s just a friend.” I’m careful not to use Macy’s name. Considering he’s warned me away from her no less than two times, I doubt he’d be okay with us meeting.

Or texting. Or having sex. 

“
Just a friend?”
he asks. “Since when do you have girls who are just friends?”

I shrug, starting to feel defensive. “Since this one.”

“And does ‘this one’ have a name?”

“Maybe.” I frown, not liking where this is going.

“And have you slept with ‘this one’?”

“Maybe.”

I don’t like the way his eyes are narrowing, either. And I definitely don’t like the way his mouth is curving into a grin. “You like her.”

Goddamn it, I
really
wish people would stop saying that.

He places a hand on my shoulder and covers his mouth, like he’s choked up with emotion. “You’re becoming a man.” He pats me, pretending to wipe away a tear. “I’m so proud of you.”

Rolling my eyes, I push his hand off me. “Just buy a fuckin’ rock already so we can get the hell out of here.”

Forty minutes later, I’m seated at The Gallows. I feel like a chump waiting for Macy, all nervous and fidgety. We’re just having dinner. It’s not that big of a deal.

So why do I feel like this?

When I see Macy walk into the restaurant a few minutes later, my face breaks into a grin. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t be this stoked to see her, but I ignore it.

We’re friends. And friends are generally happy to see each other. . .right?

I don’t get this happy to see Billy, or Robbie.

Yeah, but they don’t have boobs. I’m always happy to see boobs.

I stand as she approaches the table, but I don’t know why. What am I gonna do, hug her hello? Shake her hand?

My smile falters. My palms are sweaty.

Why the
fuck
are my palms so sweaty?

This was a horrible idea. I’m about to crash and burn in three, two, one—

“Hi.” She smiles as she pulls out the chair across from me and sits.

I’m in so much fucking trouble. I shouldn’t
miss
someone’s smile.

“Hey.” I hope she doesn’t notice my shaky voice as I sit back down. I pick up a menu and pretend to look it over just so I’ll have something to do other than sit here and fumble like an idiot.

“I’ve got to admit, I’m a bit nervous,” she says. “I almost cancelled on you like twenty times on my way over.” She winces slightly as she confesses this. I don’t know why, but it’s the cutest fucking thing. Like she’s afraid she’s going to hurt my feelings or something. 

Setting the menu down, I lean back. “I’m glad you didn’t. It would’ve been
really
embarrassing if I had to call Savannah and demand your address.”

Macy laughs and shakes her head, looking away. “Oh my god, she’d never let me hear the end of it.”

“Does she know that we’re. . .?”

Her eyes flick back to mine, the corner of her mouth curled. “We’re
what
?” 

I shrug. “Friends.” It sounds like a dirty word coming out of my mouth, but that’s what she wanted to be. 

Macy scoffs. “I’m pretty sure friends don’t want to sleep with each other.”

“So you admit you want to sleep with me. Again.”

Her lips purse as she picks up her menu. Right before she hides behind it, her cheeks turn my favorite shade of pink.

Completely sidestepping my comment, she asks, “What’s good here?”

I grin. “Everything.”

The waitress shows up a second later to take our drink orders. Macy asks for a beer and gets carded. 

I watch her pull out her wallet and hand over her ID, and it occurs to me that I don’t even know her last name, which is weird. Not that I don’t know it, but that I’m curious. I’ve never cared enough to ask a girl for her last name before.

Shit, I don’t even know
Tori’s
last name.

After the waitress leaves, I turn my attention back to Macy. “You ready to talk about what happened yesterday?”

She groans and drops her head into her hands. I guess that’s a no.

“That bad, huh?”

Macy gives me a pointed look. “Yesterday was moving day.”

“Okay. . .” Moving sucks, but it’s not
that
bad. So why’s she got her panties in such a twist?

She sighs. “As in I moved back in with my parents.”

“Ah.” I cringe. “Tough break, Duchess. What happened?”

“My roommate’s a bitch, that’s what happened.”

At my cocked brow, she elaborates. “Our lease was ending and I wanted to renew it. She wanted to move in with her boyfriend and gave me a week’s notice.
After
I’d been hounding her for a month to sign the fucking papers.”