The Matchmaker's Playbook (Wingmen Inc., #1)(67)

I glowered at her in the mirror. “I kicked your ass!”

“Oh, is that what you did? When you said you had to stop because your ankle hurt?”

With a yelp, she moved out of the way as I snapped a towel in her direction. “Just because I suck at sprints doesn’t mean my cardio needs work. Maybe if you wore more clothes while working out, I wouldn’t get so distracted.”

“So you almost coughed up a lung because you were distracted?”

“Right.” I nodded and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it onto the floor. “Distraction messes with my breathing, and if you don’t breathe right, you gas.” I winked.

She rolled her eyes and pushed me out of the bathroom.

“Hey!” I yelled when the door slammed in my face. “I thought if I went on a jog with you, I was allowed shower time. Wasn’t there a sticker chart? With sexual favors each time I hit a goal?”

The door cracked open. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Insanely hot?” I crooked my eyebrow at her and inched the door open farther. “Insanely . . . satisfying? So insane that you had not one, not two, but three orgasms, all within a five-hour period, was it?”

Her face blazed red.

I smirked.

The door slammed back against me again, and this time the lock turned.

“Fine,” I said against the door. “A girl needs some privacy—I get it. I’ll just be out here sitting in my own sweat while I wait!”

“You were complaining about being behind.” Blake’s voice carried through the door. “Get some work done! Sit on the floor and stop complaining!”

I loved that bossy attitude.

After spending that first day in bed together, we decided that we needed to venture out into society and actually go to school. I told her I was 90 percent sure we could still pass all our classes even if we just stopped going halfway through the semester, but Blake was on scholarship, and honestly I really did enjoy school. So I decided the best way to go about it was to go for a run with her, placate her with coffee, then explain my Wingmen Inc. schedule to her, as well as my duties, in a way that wouldn’t make her fly off the handle.

Blake didn’t want me to terminate her contract, because technically I’d held up my end of the bargain. David had noticed her, and in return, she could have had him.

If I hadn’t stood in the way.

She only had two days left, since we had changed the contract end date to her actual date with David to keep my record pristine.

Well, not exactly pristine. I did have a black mark, since I’d done the unthinkable and slept with her.

But being with her now was different.

She was different. My end goal wasn’t to hook up with her and leave. I wanted her for as long as she would have me. Hopefully forever.

Shit. I was already in deep.

I quickly grabbed my phone from her nightstand and started poring over e-mails from the last few days.

Vivian wanted to meet.

She had been in love with a guy named John since her freshman year two years ago, and Lex sent me his schedule.

And it looked like I had one more client starting the following week, who had spent the last three years pining over . . . yup, you guessed it, her study partner.

Seriously, nine times out of ten it was either the study partner or someone in their class that they’d creepily stalked. I was cool with it, but it usually meant I had to do a lot of groundwork. Getting the girl from being essentially nonexistent to suddenly on the guy’s radar was no easy task. And doing that while seeing Blake?

Well, let’s just say my methods were going to have to change, because no way was I going to be that guy. The one who pretended to be dating other girls while I actually had a legitimate girlfriend.

My hand froze over the text I was just about to send Lex. My breathing slowed. My chest tightened.

The shower turned off.

I stared at my phone harder.

And tried to remember to breathe.

Suddenly, Blake’s feet appeared in my line of vision. She waved in front of my face. “Ian? What’s going on? You look like you’re going to puke.”

“Are you my girlfriend?” I blurted.

Blake joined me on the bed, towel wrapped tight around her body. “If that freaks you out—”

“No,” I said. “That’s just the point. It doesn’t. Shouldn’t it?”

Blake shrugged. “Well, it’s not like you’ve been afraid of commitment. Up until now you’ve just been”—she winced—“screwing anything that breathed.”

“Nice, and here I thought you were going to lay me down easy and say something like ‘Oh, Ian, you were just waiting for the right girl to sweep you off your feet!’”

“Girls don’t do the sweeping. Surely that’s in your rule book.”

“Why do men have to do all the work?”

Blake smiled and then slowly untucked her towel and straddled me. “Is that what this is about? You want me to do some work?”

I nodded, afraid that if I spoke, it would somehow spook her into running away. I didn’t even touch her. I just . . . stared.

“So in order to be okay with being my boyfriend . . .”

Damn, the word sounded good on her lips. I was a possessive bastard like that, knowing that she was mine, that nobody else got to see her naked, that no other guy had pressed his mouth against hers. It was enough to make me want to shout in triumph.