8. Pink

Pink

I had never understood the dudes who didn’t enjoy kissing. The ones who treated it as nothing more than an appetizer, a taste of what was still to come.

I fucking loved kissing.

Didn’t matter if it was a peck when the ball dropped at midnight or a two-hour make-out session, I was a happy man. The melding of mouths, the exploration and, sometimes, outright dueling of tongues. Nothing turned me on faster than a long, wet kiss.

And as far as first kisses went, Nessa’s topped the list. Hell, she was the fucking list.

In the back of my head, I knew that this wasn’t for us. We were putting on a performance—for who, I didn’t know—but that didn’t bother me much. I was an opportunistic bastard, one who had been hoping to get his hands and lips on Nessa Gibbs for months now.

If she wanted a show, I’d give her one. And I’d make damn sure it was an Oscar-worthy performance.

My hands slid higher, grazing past the waistband of her leggings until finally meeting skin, pebbled with goose bumps. I laughed into our kiss. It was refreshing to know that she wasn’t as unaffected by me as she pretended and most likely, wanted to be.

She tucked her lower body against me, gasping against my lips when she felt my semihard cock trying to break through my joggers. I took it as my opportunity to thrust my tongue into her mouth and swallow her gasp whole. She didn’t pull away, instead meeting my onslaught with fervor and teasing my tongue with hers until I groaned.

At this rate, I was coasting to a full-blown stiffy, and that kind of show belonged behind a paywall.

I reluctantly pulled away, smiling when her lips chased mine, searching for more. At another time and place, I would be more than happy to give it to her, but not on a public street first thing in the morning, with her friends watching, eyes ablaze with interest. Our audience, I assumed. Why were they cradling pumpkins? It was barely September.

Never mind that. The show must go on.

Nessa peered up at me with a dazed look on her face as I tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Leaning down, I whispered, “This is your show, angel. ”

“I guess I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets. Huh, Ness?”

I threaded our fingers together, rubbing my finger over the throbbing pulse at her wrist. When I turned toward her friends, I took her with me, placing her in front of my body to conceal my raging erection and resting our entwined hands on her belly.

The couple leaning into each other across from us couldn’t have been more different from each other. He was tall, clean-shaven, and well-dressed, but not like Fratty McFinance from the bar. No, this guy looked like he was fitted more for a fashion show than small-town Oregon. His partner, on the other hand, was dressed head to toe for comfort. She was a tiny little thing, too, barely tall enough to reach his chest.

And yet, she tucked into his side seamlessly, like two pieces of a jigsaw fitting together.

“Hi,” I said when Nessa failed to introduce us. “Sorry about that. We just got back from a road series, and I haven’t seen my girl in a while.”

She nearly jolted out of my arms when I pressed my lips against her neck. When I pulled back, the woman across from us was smiling ear to ear.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, angel?”

“Um . . .” Nessa paused, struggling to find her voice. “He—”

“No need,” the man said. “You’re Jared Pink. Dude, I’m a huge fan. You’re leading my fantasy team right now.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No, thank you.”

I reached around the woman in my arms to shake his hand. No way was I willing to let her go now, not when she was practically using me like a human crutch. You wouldn’t hear me complaining.

“Ryan,” he said before wrapping his arm back around the petite woman beside him. “And this is my fiancée, Kaylani.”

“We all go way back,” Kaylani explained.

They both looked to a still dumbstruck Nessa for further explanation. When she didn’t provide one, Kaylani went on.

“In fact, Mom was showing Ryan some family photos, and there’s one of us trick-or-treating in matching Little Mermaid costumes.”

“Aw, you both went as Ariel?” I asked.

“No, we both went as Ursula.”

I rubbed a finger across Nessa’s knuckles. Our show was going to come to an unexpected, early close if she didn’t get her act together. Just when I thought we might need to call the whole thing off and find her a doctor—or exorcist—she spoke.

“I mean, Ursula is the best Disney villain.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m a Hades guy myself.”

“Maleficent all the way,” Ryan added.

Kaylani shoved a finger into his chest. “That’s only because you think she’s hot.”

“Hey!” He held up his hands in defense. “She’s got a certain something going on.”

Plus, her makeup was, according to my sister, “snatched.” Bella had dressed as the Disney villain for Halloween years ago.

I grinned. “It’s the horns, am I right?”

Ryan’s cheeks flushed, making his fiancée laugh. Something told me that these two had done a bit of Maleficent roleplay at one time or another. Funnily enough, I had never given much thought to roleplay with past partners. Now that I was a seasoned fake boyfriend, I might have to switch that up.

“How long are you two in town?”

“Just through the festival,” Kaylani answered.

“I finally convinced Kay to take a long overdue break,” Ryan said. “Plus, I haven’t been to a Buns and Roses Festival since we were kids, so—”

“So,” Nessa said. Her one word cut through the pleasantries more efficiently than a steak knife. “You two are getting married?”

The question might have been aimed at both Ryan and Kaylani, but it was clear that Nessa was only interested in Kaylani’s response.

“We are,” Kaylani answered timidly. “And I wanted to tell you sooner, but it’s been a bit of whirlwind.” Her words rushed out of her. “Ryan proposed last week in New York, right before I called you. But then you had to go, and I had to catch a flight, so I figured we would just tell you in person when I got home and—”

“It’s my fault,” Ryan interrupted. “I asked Kay to wait to tell you. To tell everybody, really. Selfishly, I wanted a few days for us to enjoy our engagement before we shared it with everyone. I’m sorry we’re springing it on you like this.”

I had to give the guy some credit for stepping up. From what little interaction we had had so far, Ryan and Kaylani both seemed like decent people. Then again, I didn’t know a thing about either of them or their history with Nessa. With the way Nessa was clinging to me, the man who nicked her every nerve, there had to be more to this picture-perfect scene.

She was hurting, and because of that, I needed to know who, what, when, where, and why. Who had hurt her, what had made them think they could get away with it, when they wanted me to beat the shit out of them, where they wanted the beating, and reasons why I should let them live.

See, Mr. Teller. I was paying attention in English class.

“Congratulations,” I offered. “I’d love to get you some tickets to a game if you’re interested?”

And just like that, Nessa’s wrath found a new target: my hand. Good thing I wasn’t pitching today. I might need to see the team’s doctor with the way that she was squeezing my fingers.

“Are you serious?” Ryan asked.

“That would be amazing,” Kaylani added before launching into a fit of excitement. “Are you on the festival committee, too? Oh my gosh, we should all get together for dinner this weekend. Or maybe lunch, depending on your schedule?”

“Kay, baby, it’s nine a.m.” Ryan nodded his head toward their car. “I’m sure they have shit to do. He’s got a game this afternoon.”

“And Nessie-poo has to give me my special birthday present before then.” Just for good measure, and because she had basically given me carte blanche, I rested my chin on her shoulder. “Isn’t that right, angel?”

If looks could kill.

“Right,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Happy birthday!”

“I’ll text you, okay?” Kaylani asked while backtracking toward their car. “Later tonight.”

Nessa nodded. “Yeah, okay. Get some rest.”

“Will do.”

We watched them walk down the street after that, their linked hands swinging back and forth like two teenagers in love. When Nessa tried to break free of my hold, I twirled her around until she faced me. My hand held hers captive still, this time at the small of her back. The new position thrust her chest against mine.

I leaned forward. “Not yet,” I whispered against her ear, punctuating it with another love bite.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Ah, ah, ah, angel.” I fisted a hand through her hair, tilting her head back until her mouth opened in a breathless moan. “We’re supposed to be desperately in love, remember?”

While she seethed in silence, I cherished what might be the final few seconds of having her in my arms. I let go of her hair and traced a pattern down her side, memorizing every dip and curve of her body. And oh, what a body it was—the kind that men craved and women envied, even if they didn’t admit it.

Even before coming out as bisexual in college, I had had a special affinity for bigger bodied women. How could I not? They had more to kiss, more to love, more to hold onto while I fucked them from behind. Or they fucked me.

I was an equal anal opportunist.

Nessa was a beautiful woman, inside and out. Even when she pretended to hate me. Scratch that. Especially when she pretended to hate me. What could I say? I had a thing for enemies-to-lovers stories.

She rocked back on her heels when my palm landed dangerously close to her ass.

“Careful, Pink.”

“With you, angel, always.”

I watched Ryan and Kaylani pile into a minivan down the block. When it finally rounded the corner out of sight, I reluctantly let her go.

“I’d say that went pretty well.” Her piercing glare made me smile. “Now that they’re gone, are you going to tell me what that was about?”

I expected her to yell or curse me out, maybe. She shocked the hell out of me, though, when she spun on her heels and walked away.

“I have a store to open,” she tossed back over her shoulder.

Oh, angel, you’re not getting away that easily.

It only took a few seconds for me to catch up to her. “So, when’s our next date?”

“What?”

“Our next date,” I repeated.

“This wasn’t a date.”

“Sure it was. And it sounds like we’ve got a festival committee meeting to—”

She stopped in her tracks.

“Hold your horses, baseball boy.” There was that wrinkle again, the one between her brows that drove me wild. Mostly because she reserved it for me and me alone. “This was a one and done. I didn’t expect to start my day with running into my best friend and her surprise fiancé, who just so happens to be the guy who made my life hell in high school.”

The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. I suddenly regretted offering them game tickets.

“Look,” she said after catching her breath. “I appreciate your willingness to help during my . . . brief moment of need, but let’s leave it at that.”

“How’s that going to work?”

A puzzled look crossed her face. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it sounds like they’re sticking around town for a while.” Her face paled. “Kaylani is going to be on your committee thing, and from looking at how clingy the two of them are, I bet he will be, too. Isn’t it going to look weird if your super famous, super sexy baseball boyfriend suddenly disappears from your life?”

She chewed on her lip, mulling over my question. By this point, Matty was probably wondering the hell I’d fucked off to—especially since we had to be back at the stadium in the next thirty minutes—but I couldn’t walk away now. Not with this —whatever it was—hanging over us.

“What are you suggesting?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. She was putting the ball in my hands for once. And I was about to hurl the riskiest pitch of my career.

First, the windup . . .

“We keep it up,” I told her.

“You can’t be serious.”

I arched a brow. “Do you have a better idea?” I didn’t give her time to formulate a defense. “Think of it this way. The regular season ends in a couple weeks. When we win the top seed—”

“ If you win.”

The smirk on her face told me she knew exactly what she was doing. She was lucky we were in public, otherwise I might have put her over my knee until she begged for mercy.

. . . then the release.

“ When we win,” I correct. “We’ll have almost a week before our next game. That’s a solid week of handholding, apple-picking, festival-going devotion. The best boyfriend you’ve ever seen.”

“The best fake boyfriend.”

I was open to negotiations, but for the time being, I settled on, “Right.”

I waited for what might have been the longest ten seconds of my life. Longer than my first time on the mound or the moment my mom told me that she was finally leaving my shitbag father.

But I had been waiting for Nessa for almost half a year; ten more seconds wouldn’t kill me. She was worth it.

“No more kissing.”

“What?”

“If we do this—”

“ When we do this.”

Her mouth twisted, caught somewhere between a smile and grimace. “When we do this fake relationship thing—”

Fuck, that was another one of my favorite tropes. This woman was going to rue the day she’d introduced me to romance novels.

“—it’s in name only. No kissing.” She swallowed. “ Definitely no sex.”

“Who said anything about sex?” I asked cheekily.

“You didn’t have to say it.” Her eyes jumped down to my cock. “I could feel it.”

“Can you blame me?”

She held her hand out to me. “Deal?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Deal.”

When I captured her hand in mine, I lifted it to my lips.

“Jared,” she warned, like my name was a dirty word.

“You said no kisses.” I rolled her hand over and lightly nipped her palm. “You said nothing about biting.”

She yelped and pulled her arm back quickly. “That should go without saying.”

It was a start—more than she had offered me in months—and even though she might not know it yet, it wouldn’t take long to show Nessa that I was a fan-fucking-tastic boyfriend.

“I’ll see you later, girlfriend. ”

“Good luck at your game, boyfriend. ” I had barely taken a step in the opposite direction when she added, “Oh, and happy birthday.”

Little did she realize that she had just given me the best birthday gift I could have asked for.

A second chance.

Because now that I had tasted temptation, I wanted more. I wanted the whole damn meal. And if I played my cards right—no, when I played my cards right—Ness might just let me come back for seconds.

Or thirds.

Or forever.

But I was getting ahead of myself. Today, I had a game to win. I’d start on Nessa’s heart first thing tomorrow.