11. CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 11

“I get a shiver when I see you with those other guys”

Jealous (I Ain’t With It) – Chromeo

Deon

“ A re you closing your eyes?” Nathalie’s voice floats into the living room, where I’ve been forced to sit on the couch with my eyes closed.

“Yes,” I grumble. “My eyes have been closed for the last five minutes.”

“Stop being all Mr. Grumpy,” she calls out, pulling a smile from my lips, “or else I won’t share the pizza I made.”

That shuts me up.

Her cooking is wonderful, and I won’t jeopardize my access to that. She’s left meals in the fridge, my name scrawled on a sticky note beside a small heart, and the subtle kindness has been a problem. She’s making it nearly impossible to wrangle my annoying emotions.

Her feet patter against the hardwood floors, followed by an aggressive, borderline evil meow. Gordie is obsessed with Nathalie, following her around wherever she goes and sleeping in the guest room.

At least, that’s where I’m assuming he is since he no longer pounces at my feet all night.

Nathalie’s addictive jasmine perfume fills the air.

“Okay. Open your eyes.”

I crack open one eye, afraid of what she may be holding. I pray she didn’t choose fireman or cop or anything else that could have the word ‘sexy’ in the title.

The first thing I notice is the wings. Small, black wings attached to Gordie’s pudgy frame, bouncing wildly as he bolts around the room chasing an electric mouse.

“Gordie, sit still ,” Nathalie chides and his ass plops on the floor. My jaw flies open, staring down at my…dragon cat?

Well, at least it matches his evil personality.

As soon as the thought pops into my mind, Gordie leaps and smacks at my foot, reminding me who runs the house. One more aggressive meow, and he pads over to his food bowl.

“Do you like it?” Nathalie asks, the question hesitant.

My gaze travels from my cat to the costume Nathalie displays, holding the hanger over her head. A long brown cape trails to the floor, accompanied by a mustard yellow vest and brown slacks, far too short for my large frame.

She peeks her head around the outfit, energy buzzing.

“Well…?”

“That’s not going to fit,” I say, examining the pants.

“Yes, they will.” I raise a brow. “I stole your clothing out of the laundry room to make sure. Go get dressed.”

She shoves the costume into my hands, and as I pass her, she pats my ass. I spin around in disbelief. Nathalie’s grin is so large her cheeks push up her glasses.

“Did you just slap my ass?”

She obviously did, but I’m in too much shock to ask any logical questions.

“You have tight glutes. It’s an impressive ass. I’ve seen Jack’s, and I think yours is better.” Nathalie winks, and I choke, quickly disappearing into my room. I don’t know how to respond to her comment without blushing. “Be quick about it,” Nathalie yells. “Gordie gets antsy on his leash!”

Gordie’s…what?

Gordie struts on his leash ahead of Nathalie and me as we weave our way through the small crowd in Maren and Jack’s home.

Nathalie admitted she’s been training Gordie on the leash. I’ve decided my fake girlfriend is insane. If her slapping my ass wasn’t proof enough, her training my demon cat to walk on a leash is overwhelming evidence. There's no way my geriatric cat is going to walk around on a leash at a Halloween party full of professional athletes and their families.

Once again, Gordie takes immense joy in proving me wrong.

Maren and Sawyer linger in the kitchen by the large island, munching on a veggie platter, when they spot us. As they turn, their jaws fly to the floor.

“Oh. My. God,” Maren whispers.

Nathalie picks Gordie off the ground, peppering him with kisses. I grab Nathalie by the waist, pulling her to my side. Her eyes flicker in confusion.

“They know it’s not real,” she mumbles from the side of her mouth.

“But the rest of my team doesn’t,” I respond. “We’re going to have to pretend.”

Nathalie clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes.

“You’re wearing a Hobbit outfit, Deon. It looks like I have you wrapped around my finger.” I blink. She has a point. “But don’t worry, I’ll pretend I’m madly in love with you and that your shit smells like roses.”

She cackles, leaving me to stand awkwardly in Maren’s hallway.

“You three look amazing!” Sawyer yells, dressed as Buttercup in a long red gown. I’m sure Henry is dressed as Westley, complete with the tight leather pants and mask.

“You two truly outdid yourselves,” Maren adds, extending a seltzer, a SCUBA mask plastered to her forehead. I snag it and crack it open for Nathalie before handing it to her.

“Where are the guys?” I ask, but my voice cracks as Nathalie trails a hand up my torso. “What are you doing?” I hiss.

Nathalie giggles, wiggling her eyebrows.

She’s far too good at making me uncomfortable. I need to even the field a bit. I’m stumbling over myself while Nathalie is unaffected by our deal. Well, If I’m going to stumble, then she’s going to be right beside me.

“I’m playing my part,” she drawls, eyes darting to the other side of the room where a few teammates watch us, “and showing everyone how madly in love we are ."

She wants to play this game? Fine, I’ll play.

I nod and then spin to my fake girlfriend. Evening the playing field, that’s all this is. It’s how I justify the nerves fluttering in my chest when I bend down and take her lips.

She releases a gasp, and I double down, nipping at her bottom lip and palming her ass to drag her closer. I trail my tongue along the seam of her lips, kissing her the way I do everything, with complete and total obsession.

Breaking the kiss, I hover an inch away, our breaths mingling. Her eyes crack open as I whisper against her lips, “Do you think they bought it?”

The question comes out solid even though my body is on fire. Kissing her the first time was eye-opening, but this kiss was a confirmation of what I feared.

She’s going to be the death of me.

I’m going to crave her like the finest dessert I can’t have.

Nathalie’s fingers brush her lips.

“Y-Yeah,” her voice cracks. “I think it was pretty convincing.”

I release a husky laugh as she blinks. Gordie meows and it breaks the haze—Maren’s smirking when our gazes meet.

“I’m going to find the guys,” I say to Nathalie, dragging a palm down her spine. She shivers but sways into the touch and my chest puffs. Maybe I'm not the only one affected by this ordeal after all.

This is affecting her. My chest puffs. I affect her.

“Are you good for a solo adventure for a bit?” Nathalie nods, and I lean down and kiss the crown of her head. “Have fun, Nat,” I purr, and as I'm sliding the door shut, I hear a symphony of screams and squeals.

“Why are you half-naked, anyway?” I ask, slowly sipping on my beer.

If I know Nathalie—and I do—she’s halfway to Hammered Town, and I need to be able to drive her and Gordie home later.

Jack lounges in a large chair in the back of the greenhouse, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks, the tattoos covering his skin on full display. I’ve avoided asking the question, enjoying the silence with Jack and Henry instead of the chaos inside the house.

Jack shifts in his seat, and his skin…sparkles?

“Do you have glitter on?”

“Did you see Maren?” he asks.

“Yeah? She didn’t look much different than usual, except she had a SCUBA mask on her forehead.”

“Maren is Marine Biologist Barbie, and I’m,” he waves at his swimsuit and sparkling torso, “Ken.”

“What kind of Ken?” Henry asks.

“Maren said, ‘Just Ken’.”

I shift my cape from beneath my thighs, and Henry’s brows furrow.

“What are you supposed to be?” He asks, finishing the last of his beer.

“Nathalie and I are Hobbits and Gordie is Smaug.”

“Who’s Gordie?” Henry and Jack ask in unison.

“My cat?”

Have I never spoken about Gordie before?

“You brought your cat to my house dressed as a dragon?” Jack’s eyebrows reach his hairline. He snags a beer from the cooler and saunters past me. “I gotta see this.”

“Never pegged you as a cat man,” Henry chuckles.

“He hates me,” I admit.

Thumping music rattles the walls of the house as we weave through small groups of people searching for my cat. We find Nathalie, Sawyer, and Maren sitting in the living room on the floor surrounding Declan, who cradles Gordie in his arms.

“I didn’t know you had a cat, Deon!”

Declan, wearing a pirate hat and eyepatch, scratches behind Gordie’s ear, and he purrs deeply.

What the fuck?

If there was one person I was confident he would hate more than me, it would be Declan.

The number of times Gordie has proven me wrong: a million.

Nathalie’s head lifts, offering a beaming smile when she spots me. My footsteps falter at the strength of that smile and the impact of it. Fuck, I like how she looks at me. Like my presence in a room brightens her mood. Savannah rarely made me feel that way.

It terrifies me how I’ve begun to crave her. Her presence. Her attention. I knew it was going to happen, but the strength of it is worrisome.

I want her lips against my skin and to know what sounds she makes beneath my tongue.

Desire around her is not novel, but now is the worst time to imagine her writhing beneath me, my name on her tongue as she begs. Nathalie cocks her head when I stop in the middle of the kitchen.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I cannot get a boner in these tight-ass Hobbit pants.

I spin on my heel, escaping into the closest room. Only when the door is shut can I breathe again. That desire, that need for another person, has been absent in my life since Savannah.

It’s not something I thought I was still capable of.

Only a heavy amount of deep breathing and thoughts of how concrete is made calms the boner enough to re-enter the party.

I notice the seventh person in the group when I reach Nathalie.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Lachlan purrs, his Australian accent thick as he clasps her hand, crouching down to meet her gaze. “I would remember.”

My vision darkens with jealousy as Nathalie giggles. I slide past Lachlan and fall to the floor, sitting as close as physically possible to Nathalie.

Her shoulder brushes my arm, and it calms a fraction of the annoyance vibrating in my bones. Lachlan can go hit on someone else's girlfriend.

Not mine.

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend , Nathalie.” I aggressively emphasize the word ‘girlfriend,’ metaphorically pissing all over her to mark my territory.

It’s not subtle, and I don’t care.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” he says. A silent no dramas from the sun-kissed Australian. Smart move. It would have been a shame if we had to ship him back to Australia because he hit on Nathalie.

As Lachlan retreats, Nathalie’s head falls on my shoulder.

“How many of those have you had?” I nod my head at the seltzer in her hand.

“Three. Maybe four. Seven if you count the ones I had at home.” She twists the can in her hand. I squeeze my eyes shut, the motion more erotic than it has any right to be. “I think I’m a little tipsy.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She motions for me to come closer. I lean down, our faces inches apart. “You play the jealous boyfriend role spectacularly,” she whispers.

I force a smile.

I wasn’t acting.

Nathalie finishes her seltzer and uses my body to hold herself up as Gordie chases a laser light.

“We should take a photo,” I say, wanting to hold onto this memory forever.

“Great idea!” Nathalie drunkenly chases Gordie, and once we’re positioned, Maren snaps a photo of the three of us. Two Hobbits and a mini Smaug.

I immediately make it my screensaver.

Nathalie’s eyes are full of joy as she smiles, leaning her head on my shoulder while she holds Gordie. She is breathtakingly beautiful.

A large hand slaps me on the shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“Maren wants a cat instead of the dog I’ve spent weeks convincing her we should adopt. Thanks for that,” Jack says, shaking his head in amusement .

“Hey! He’s my boyfriend! Not yours. Keep your hands to yourself, mister.”

The room grows eerily quiet. Nathalie stands between Jack and me, her small body a flimsy shield against the six-foot-five, three-hundred-pound lineman who is paid millions to defend me on the football field.

She’s chosen the wrong battle. Not to mention, Jack has the patience of a saint and is the kindest person I’ve met. He is also married to Maren and has zero intention of flirting with me, which is what Nathalie is suggesting.

Nathalie lied. She’s not tipsy; she’s fully drunk. This rivals the fake proposal I had to stop this summer between her and Declan when they both got drunk. I had to promise Nathalie I would get her Twizzlers and feed them to her like grapes for her to let it go.

Thankfully, only one of us remembers that night.

Jack cocks an eyebrow.

“Beat him up, Nathalie!” Maren yells, and Jack’s eyes dart to his wife, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I wasn’t flirting with your boyfriend .” Nathalie's brows crinkle as Jack draws out the word. He raises a brow in my direction. I ignore him and grab Nathalie by the shoulders.

“I think it’s time for us to go.” I snatch my cat and corral my territorial fake girlfriend toward the door. “What a lovely party, Maren. Love the decorations. Love you. Bye!”

Oh no, I’m rambling. Sawyer and Henry bite back laughs, and Declan watches with curious eyes, darting between Nathalie and me. He smirks, and I quickly look away.

Maren lifts off the ground, pulling me in for a hug. Nathalie growls, and I ignore the fluttering feeling in my chest.

As I help Nathalie into the car with the cat, she begins to giggle. Softly at first, but it morphs into something maniacal.

“Your jealous boyfriend was good, but my jealous girlfriend is spectacular. ”