Asshole.
“I’m not being funny,” I announced.
“Oh, yes you are,” Cooper said through his amusement.
Jerk.
“What’s funny?” Gabe asked.
“Nothing,” I snapped.
“A little slow on the uptake. But that’s okay, you got there.”
Cooper winked at me before he turned back around and went back to his laptop.
“What’s he talking about?” Gabe was still staring at me in confusion but I couldn’t explain the exchange unless I admitted Cooper had caught me drooling over Gabe’s muscles and that was never going to happen. There were many reasons I wouldn’t disclose that I had indeed been checking out Gabe like I was famished. First, it was creepy, but more importantly on the off-chance Gabe went for another run and came back to the house hot and sweaty, which made him inclined to take his shirt off to wipe himself dry, I didn’t want to miss the show.
Great. Now on top of everything else I was a pervert.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“You should ask her if she’s still hungry.” Cooper continued to poke.
“Did you get enough?” Gabe asked.
Cooper barked out a laugh and stood. The sound of the chair scraping the floor could barely be heard over his obnoxious cackling.
“I can’t,” Cooper choked out and held up his hands in surrender. “I’m going…fuck, I don’t know where I’m going. Be right back.”
Cooper strode out of the room and just like last night I was left alone with Gabe in awkward silence.
He was staring at me like I’d sprouted a horn out of my forehead and I was staring at him silently begging him not to ask any more questions.
“What the hell was that?”
“He’s your friend, you tell me.”
Please God, let it drop.
“Your cheeks are pink, did he embarrass you?”
Good Lord.
Why me?
“No. I must be having a hot flash or something.”
A hot flash? Oh my God. Why did I have the crazy need to explain I wasn’t going through menopause?
“Do you want me to turn on the AC?”
“No, I’m fine. Sometimes I just get a flash.”
Stop talking, Evette. Shut up and don’t speak.
“You sure? Your face is really red.”
“Yep. I’m fine,” I squeaked and turned back to the sink.
I rinsed the plate and was reaching to turn off the water when I felt Gabe approach.
Again, why me?
“Hey,” he called. “Are you sure Cooper didn’t embarrass you?”
He sounded stern. Irritated even.
Shit.
Now I had three choices. Come clean. Lie some more which I sucked at and God knows what would come out of my mouth next. I’d probably tell him it was that time of the month and my period gave me cramps and made my cheeks red. Or I could let Gabe be mad at Cooper and that was not cool. Two choices would cause me extreme mortification. The last wasn’t an option.
Come clean it is.
“He caught me staring at your back,” I rushed out.
“Come again?”
Holy hell.
I closed my eyes to fight back my humiliation.
“I came out of the bedroom, you were standing with your back to me, and I was checking out your muscles. I don’t know which ones because I’m not hip on all the muscle groups but you have a lot of them so it took me a while. I don’t know when Cooper saw me, just that he did. I don’t think it was when I was staring at your ass because I didn’t linger there long anyway, your shorts were too baggy to see anything. But I was admiring your calves. You look like you run a lot.”
“Famished,” Gabe mumbled.
My face heated. Then I felt a finger under my chin putting just enough pressure there to make me lift my head.
“Open your eyes, Evette.”
Now my life was complete. I’d admitted I was a creepy pervert and I was behaving like a silly child.
Awesome.
I slowly opened my eyes to find a pair of deep browns staring right at me.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been perving.”
Gabe’s lips twitched.
“I don’t mind.”
“Okay, well, then I’m sorry I got caught and gave Cooper ammunition.”
“Is that the only reason you’re sorry you got caught?”
“Well, no. I had to humiliate myself and tell you I was secretly ogling you which negates the secretly part.”
“So now you were ogling.”
I ignored Gabe’s comment in favor of continuing to embarrass the shit out of myself.
“Of course there’s also the disappointing fact that if you go for a run again you won’t take off your shirt when you get back because you know I’ll be ogling.”
“Right.”
There was another twitch of his lips and my logical mind took a hike, and I suddenly had the overwhelming need to experience what kissing Gabe would feel like.
“Evette?”
“Huh?”
“Babe, look at me.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re staring at my mouth.”
Shitballs.
Caught again.
My gaze snapped to his and there was no hint of a smile.
“You’re torture on a man’s control.”
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head and blanked his expression.
I would’ve been impressed he had the ability to completely mask his emotions if I weren’t so freaked out.
“Nothing.” He dropped his hand and stepped back.
A chill fell between us and he told me, “I’ll talk to Cooper.”
Since my big mouth had gotten me in a shedload of trouble already I wisely kept it shut and nodded.
Actually, it wasn’t my mouth that had gotten me into trouble, it was my stupid vagina that had woken up after being asleep behind the wheel for over a year. If it had stayed in the coma-like state it had been in since my last disaster of a relationship I wouldn’t have been perving on Gabe.
Stupid vagina.
Chapter 9
I was going to get a goddamn callus if I fucked my fist one more time.
Over the last three days, this was what my life had come to.
Wake up, jerk off thinking about Evette. Take Evette to the office, work all day, come back to the safehouse with Evette. Eat dinner with Evette. Watch TV with Evette. Go to bed without Evette. Fist my cock thinking about all the things I wanted to do to Evette.
Rinse. Repeat.
Cooper was involved in some of that, though definitely not the times when I had my cock in hand.
Three fucking days.
So why would this morning in the shower be any different?
I’d woken up with my cock hard and aching from another dream starring the beautiful Ms. London. The worst part was in my dream Evette wasn’t riding my cock, she wasn’t bent over with her perfect heart-shaped ass on display, her mouth wasn’t latched onto my hard cock giving me a blowjob. No, in my dream she was fully clothed, holding my hand, staring at me intently while we talked.
Talked.
What in the fuck?
Since when did I hold hands and talk?
And the subject matter of our dream discussion should’ve deflated my hard-on faster than a pair of sweaty balls in my face. Yet there I was standing in the shower, one hand braced on the tile, the other wrapped around my stiffy as I pumped away.