The Matchmaker's Playbook (Wingmen Inc., #1)(68)

“I need to . . . earn my keep?” she said.

“Your words, not mine,” I whispered in a cocky voice. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any maid outfits in that giant closet of horrors, would you?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.” I sighed. “Janitor outfits? Fast-food? Tell me you at least have a McDonald’s uniform, and I will bang you so hard you’re going to call me Ronald for a week.”

“You’re really weird.”

I gripped her by the ass and tossed her onto the bed. “Yeah, but you fed me, so remember what that means.”

Blake ran her hands through my hair. Her fingers went to my lips and lingered as she whispered, “I get to keep you.”

“Yeah.” I kissed each fingertip reverently. “I sure hope so.”

“Feeling insecure?”

“No,” I lied. “Just . . . different. This feels different.”

“Sometimes different is exactly what we need.”

“Yeah.” I kissed her soundly. “It is.”



I finally left Blake’s house two hours later, freshly showered and ready to meet Vivian at the HUB. It was our second meeting, during which I’d go over the schedule and see if she was okay with it. Hopefully, getting a good look at the guy she was interested in would help me gauge how fast he’d make it through the steps.

Vivian was sitting in Subway, chewing her fingernails and staring hard at one of the employees. He was a bit on the short side, wore his Subway visor backward, and said “yo” more than anyone should ever say within a five-minute period.

“Yo,” I teased, taking a seat across from her.

“He doesn’t even know my name,” she mumbled under her breath.

I ignored that. “Did you move out of your parents’ house?”

Her attention still fixed on the guy, she nodded and kept talking to me without making eye contact, which was borderline creepy. “I moved in with a good friend right off campus. I even cut my hair.”

“I see that.” She’d also discovered red lipstick and all the ways one could get it on her teeth by not properly applying it. “Vivian . . .”

She was still staring at John.

Fine. She wanted his attention? I was going to get his attention.

“You bitch!” I jumped to my feet and tossed my chair to the floor. Stunned students glanced at us. “I can’t believe you slept with him! At my party? At my house! IN MY BED!”

Vivian’s mouth dropped open as she looked between me and the suddenly very still Subway line. Sandwich artistry had officially stopped.

“Ian, what are you doing?” she hissed.

“Um, breaking up with you. What does it look like I’m doing?” I waved my hands around in the air. “You slept with my brother!” I had no such brother. “During my birthday party!” My birthday was in November. “What? You didn’t think I would find out?”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Ian . . .” They started spilling onto her cheeks.

“Hey, man.” John walked over and put his hand on my arm.

“Don’t touch me!” I jerked away.

“Chill, yo, just chill.” He offered a calm smile. “It’s just that, Vivian here”—I knew he knew her name—“looks pretty scared. And whatever went down, it’s not cool to air it out in front of an audience.”

“You know what else isn’t cool?” I was seething. “Her.” I pointed a finger in Vivian’s direction. “Making me want her so desperately that I was even thinking of forgiving her for doing the unthinkable. She’s just . . .” I looked away. “She’s beautiful.”

John glanced at Vivian. I prayed she’d keep her mouth closed, because lipstick on her teeth would do the opposite of attract him. Then again, maybe he was into train wrecks. “Yeah, she really is,” he said.

I knew what he saw, the girl next door plus a little bit of red lipstick. Her face was still flushed, making her lips plump. Her eyes were wide—they looked huge—and the fresh haircut made her look like she’d just gotten done having sex, which is of course what had given me my brilliant idea.

It wasn’t just jealousy that got a guy going.

It was the simple fact that another dude had discovered a treasure that had been walking past him for years, and he’d never even given it a second glance.

All guys wanted to be first.

We wanted to be Christopher Columbus, Lewis and Clark—you get the picture.

He would always be second to me. Or so he thought. Meaning he would try twice as hard to erase the memory of her first.

Damn, I was brilliant.

“Look.” I ran my hands through my hair, trying to look stressed. “Viv, can we talk outside?”

She nodded, slowly standing to her feet. I was glad to see that she’d taken my advice and at least dressed her age. Nice skinny jeans and a black racerback tank top made her look older than twelve.

“Hey.” John grabbed Vivian’s arm and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, ducked her head, and walked out with me.

Once we were outside, I steered her toward the bench and sat.

“That was—”

“Shh.” I held my finger to my lips. “Give it a few minutes. He’s going to be looking out here, and if we talk right away, it will look like we’re fixing things. If we stay silent, we both look . . . hopeless. We need to look hopeless.”