Chapter 6

Erika putthe wand back in the mascara and took one last look in the mirror.

She felt pretty.

And nervous.

Something she was becoming accustomed to when it came to Blake these days.

He'd been her best friend for so long that all shyness or discomfort or awkwardness between them faded ages ago. She should not be feeling nervous.

She considered wiping off her lipstick and going with a different shade. Then, she felt foolish for putting so much stock in her appearance when it was just Blake.

This wasn't even a date. She was doing him a favor because it sounded like he'd forgotten all about the charity event and couldn't find someone to go with him on such short notice. She figured she was his last-ditch effort, one that worked when he'd called in the IOU she'd offered after he'd picked her up from work.

She heard a single knock before her apartment door opened. The tap-tap-tap of doggie paws on her hardwood floor let her know exactly who'd arrived.

"Erik?" Blake yelled from the living room.

"Just a minute. I'm in the bathroom," she called out. "I'm almost ready."

Corky followed the sound of her voice, jumping against Erika, who quickly bent down to make sure the puppy's claws didn't snag her dress. "Hello, my sweetest," she said, picking up the wriggling dog but holding her at arm's length, twisting her face away. Puppy kisses and makeup didn't mix, so she put Corky down, the dog rushing back into her bedroom, no doubt in search of her favorite toy.

She'd delivered Corky to Blake this morning before she went to work, as he'd had a rare day off. He'd reminded her that he'd be here at seven, and a quick glance at her phone showed he was actually a few minutes early.

Fluffing her hair, she took a steadying breath and one last look in the mirror. She wasn't usually too fussed with her appearance. Not that she was a slob. It was just that she wasn't one of those women who primped in front of a mirror for hours on end. As far as Erika was concerned, a woman's worth had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with her mind and her heart.

Until today anyway.

Today, she'd rushed home from the hospital, pissed about the fact she'd hit traffic. For the past two hours, she'd spent an ungodly amount of time stressing over her clothing, her hair, and her makeup.

Dammit.

Rolling her eyes at this ridiculous newfound vanity, she turned her back on her reflection and walked to her bedroom, grabbing the clutch she'd loaded with the essentials, transferred over from her larger daily purse. She'd only put her heels on a few minutes earlier, and her feet were already protesting. Doctors were experts when it came to practical, comfortable footwear, so while she owned lots of pretty heels, she didn't wear them very often.

Walking to the living room, she stopped short when she saw Blake leaning against the kitchen counter, looking at his phone. Both of their apartments had the same open floor plan. The kitchen, living room, and dining room all one huge room, sectioned off by an island counter. It was one of the things Erika had loved about the place. She didn't entertain often—most of her socializing was done at Blake's—but she liked how everyone was always sharing the same space, whether they were cooking, grabbing drinks from the fridge, or hanging out on the couch.

Blake looked like he'd stepped off the pages of GQ, giving his best James Bond impersonation, as his tuxedo fit him to perfection. The suit jacket showed off his broad, muscular shoulders, and he'd taken the time to tame his thick, shaggy, gorgeous black hair. He looked fucking hot. Which didn't help the butterflies that had taken residence in her stomach.

Blake glanced up when she entered, and that stupid vain woman practically swooned when his eyes widened in obvious appreciation. He gave her a wolf whistle as he tucked his phone into his jacket pocket and crossed the room to her.

"Holy shit, Erik."

She gave him a vogue pose, meant to make him laugh and hopefully break some of this tension she was feeling. Unfortunately, he didn't smile. Instead, he kept making his way toward her, reaching out to take one of her hands to spin her around.

"You're fucking gorgeous."

To hell with it. Tonight, she was going to embrace her inner narcissist, letting his compliments soak in.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." She reached out, fixing his tie, even though it was already perfect.

Blake was still looking at her, his eyes traveling from her hair, sliding along her curves—which she knew this dress accentuated just right—down to her heels and back again. "Suddenly regretting asking you to go with me tonight. Gonna have to beat my teammates off with a stick once they lay eyes on you in this dress."

She smiled. "Pretty sure that's not going to be a real concern."

"I'm pretty sure it is," he said, almost heatedly.

Erika didn't know if his compliments were just part of his charm or flirting schtick, but damn if they weren't working on her. She tried to dismiss what almost looked like jealousy flashing in his eyes as wishful thinking on her part, because why in the hell would Blake be jealous?

"A favor is a favor," she said, anxious to put them back on solid ground. "But I'm curious. Who were you going to take to this party if I was busy?"

He lifted one shoulder casually. "I would have gone stag. Partied with my teammates."

"Why didn't you do that anyway?"

"Because everything is more fun when you're there," he said, as if his words weren't the sweetest thing she'd ever heard.

"I have fun with you too." Her compliment felt lame on the heels of his, but he still lit up like a Christmas tree.

"I told Ashley that Corky will be here at your place. She has the spare key," Blake said. "I dropped it off this afternoon, but I'm starting to think it might be easier if we both just make her copies of her own."

"That's not a bad idea."

Ashley had proven herself to be as good a dog sitter as she was a babysitter. She'd been a godsend, taking care of Corky whenever they were both at work. Blake joked that their dog liked Ashley better than them.

"She's going to take her out in a couple hours for a walk, then she'll play with her for a little while, wear her out. Told her we should be back by midnight, and I'll take her out for her last walk then. Don't want Ash out with her too late," Blake finished.

"Sounds good."

Erika and Blake both gave Corky some goodbye snuggles, the two of them telling her to be a good girl, like there wasn't a thing weird about them talking to the dog like she could understand every word they said.

Blake helped her put on her coat, then offered his arm as they strolled to the elevators.

During the drive to the hotel, Erika's nerves settled. She'd obviously built tonight into something too big in her mind. Something that wouldn't have happened if Blake hadn't issued his invitation with that mind-blowing kiss of his.

She turned her face toward the passenger window, pretending to look at the stores they passed rather than let Blake see her flushed cheeks. Three days had passed, and she still couldn't think about that kiss without blushing like an innocent schoolgirl.

Of course, it had been a lot more than just a kiss. She still couldn't believe the way she'd reacted like a dog in heat, rubbing herself against his thick, powerful thigh. Erika had never responded to a kiss like that, never lost all sense of control. Not that Blake had helped. He'd been the one to shift her to that position, and his grip on her hips had certainly encouraged her to keep moving.

While she would never admit it aloud, she'd been damn close to coming. Just from dry humping his leg. She wouldn't have even thought that was a possibility until three nights ago.

Erika closed her eyes and shoved the memory of that night away. She had to, or else she wouldn't be able to face Blake.

This was three times now that the two of them had crossed into uncharted territory—at least for her. Between the masturbation lesson, the all-consuming kisses, and the leg humping, she was starting to have trouble recognizing herself in the mirror.

She'd never considered herself a particularly sexual woman. Her tastes in the bedroom always limited to the boring vanilla variety. Erika had never questioned if her disinterest in sex was because that was just the way she was wired. It's what she'd always assumed…but now she was wondering if the truth was, she'd never found a lover with enough skill to open her eyes to what she was missing.

Blake was definitely opening her eyes.

Of course he was.

Fate was having a good time with her these days.

After all, it had introduced her to Doug, a man whose interests, hopes, and dreams matched hers. Doug, like her, was looking for a long-term relationship with an eye toward marriage and kids. She should be turning cartwheels that she'd met him without having to keep slogging through online dating. The only problem she could find with Doug was that damn spark. It still hadn't flared, and the more time they spent together, the less physically attracted she became to him. She hadn't lied to Blake about letting that good-night kiss make the decision for her. It had been a perfectly nice—ugh—kiss, but in the end, it had left her cold rather than stirring her libido.

Fate had also flipped some switch in Blake that had him doing out-of-character things, with her following suit. Every time he was in the vicinity, so many damn sparks flickered and flared, she was shocked they hadn't burned down their building. She didn't even have to be with him. Just knowing he was across the hall turned her body into a sex compass, her tight nipples pointing toward her new north—Blake.

Being sexually attracted to her neighbor was becoming a big problem because, unlike Doug, Blake wasn't looking for anything more than a roll in the hay. Settling down in his mind seemed to be the equivalent to giving up, something Blake Wright never did.

She'd been right to insist that the two of them simply remain friends, and all the reasons she'd given him at the beginning were still there.

Sticking to her guns hadn't been an issue once in three years.

Not until now.

"You okay?" Blake reached across the console to touch her bouncing knee. "You're quiet."

She gave him what she hoped passed for an easy, breezy smile. "Just thinking about the next few weeks. I still have a lot of Christmas shopping to do." That wasn't a lie. The holidays were only a few weeks away, and Erika wasn't any better at buying presents than groceries, even though she had countless lists of who she was shopping for and gift ideas.

Blake nodded. "Tell you what. Why don't we check our schedules for next week and the two of us can dedicate one whole day to shopping and wrapping? Because I'm pretty behind as well."

She recalled they'd done the same thing last year, and it was the most prepared she had ever been for the holidays. "I'd like that."

He grinned. "Maybe we should make joint holiday shopping an annual event."

She nodded, aware that over the past few years, they'd established a lot of shared routines, including a spring-cleaning weekend shortly after the end of his season, where they tackled apartment projects together; double Thanksgivings that included lunch with her parents and dinner with his mom; and a trifecta Friendsgiving/Ugly Holiday Sweater/New Year's bash, always held on Christmas Eve due to the guys' hockey schedule.

"Here we are." Blake pulled up to the front of the hotel. "Wait there."

She remained where she was as Blake walked around the front of the car, handing the keys to the valet before opening the door for her. He helped her out, then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm again. It was a chilly night, as winter was starting to kick in, but it wasn't super cold. Regardless, she snuggled close enough that Blake must have thought she was seeking warmth because he dropped her hand and instead wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her against his chest.

He was always warm, something she'd remarked on many times in the past. He claimed it was because his body was conditioned to the cold, which made sense, considering he spent so much of his time on ice.

"Blake," they heard someone call out as soon as they entered the ballroom. Glancing to the left, they spotted Tank and Preston standing next to one of the three bar setups.

Tank waved them over. "What's up, Doc? Didn't expect Blake to rope you into this dog and pony show. Thought he liked you."

She grinned. "Pulled the favor card."

Tank shook his head. "What a dick."

The two of them laughed.

"Only thing to do at crap like this," Tank added, "is get shit-faced."

He asked her what she wanted to drink, then ordered a red wine for her and beers for the guys. The four of them walked over to a table Blake's teammates had already claimed.

Glancing around, Erika instantly felt at ease, as she'd spent countless nights with all the guys at the table, and she was even familiar with one of the regular puck bunnies.

Coulton and Victor were sitting there, conversing quietly, as Preston reclaimed his seat, joining their discussion of—shocker—last night's game. It looked as if all three men had come stag. In fact, Tank appeared to be the only other guy who'd brought a date or, Jesus, two dates. Erika recognized one of the women, Lara, from celebrations at the pub and the hallway outside Blake's apartment following several victory sleepovers.

Tank introduced his other date, Emily, to Erika—joking that Preston had given him his plus one so he could bring "both his girls."

Erika noticed neither woman seemed bothered by his introduction, or unhappy that they were sharing the man.

Blake pulled out her chair, claiming the one next to her. Lara sat on his other side, giving Blake a sexy smile, despite the fact she was here with his best friend on the team. Tank and Blake exchanged pleasantries, clearly unbothered about the fact they were sitting between a woman they'd both taken to bed.

It didn't matter how many times she went out with Blake and his teammates; Erika would never get used to what she teasingly referred to as their Bedroom Roulette game.

Seeing the two women with Tank served as a good reminder to Erika why tonight wasn't a date, and why she and Blake were much better off as friends. She had too much pride to allow herself to become another notch on the sexy hockey star's bedpost.

"How long do we have to stay at this fucking fucked-up thing?" Victor grumbled. The defenseman's use of the F-word was so extreme and frequent, Erika couldn't recall ever hearing the man form a sentence that didn't use it at least once.

She bent her head, trying to hide her grin at his crankiness. She'd spent enough time around the grumpy man to know that Victor's bark was worse than his bite. His scowl was firmly in place tonight, letting everyone know he wasn't here out of the goodness of his heart, but due to his obligation to the team.

Tonight's charity, the Rays Foundation, provided money to foster children so that they could participate in school and community athletics. The foundation—sponsored by the Stingrays—paid for equipment, registration fees, and even provided transportation to practices and games, if necessary.

"It's for a good cause," Coulton reminded Victor. "So I don't mind too much. My Little Brother is one of the kids benefitting from the money raised tonight."

Coulton, the Rays' starting goalie, was physically huge, so when Erika first met him, she'd expected him to have a personality that matched. That didn't prove to be true at all, as Coulton was a soft-spoken, easygoing man who never seemed to get upset about anything. His nickname on the team was The Rock, as Coulton was their emotional rock, the one who always steadied the boat.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Lara remarked.

Tank shook his head as he wrapped his arm around his date's chair. "Coulton volunteers for Big Brothers Big Sisters. The Little Brother thing is an honorary title. How long you been hanging with that kid now?"

Coulton smiled, clearly pleased by Tank's question. "Slade's been my Little Brother for about a year. Great kid. Lives with his aunt, but she's got five of her own, plus Slade's older sister, so he was getting lost in the crowd. His aunt enrolled him in the program when he started acting out at school, getting bad grades, shoplifting."

"How old is he?" Erika asked.

"Just turned eleven." Coulton beamed as he added, "Little punk actually made the honor roll this semester." If pride had a face, it would be Coulton's right now.

"You're changing that kid's life," Blake said, his words mirroring Erika's thoughts.

Coulton shrugged off the compliment, refusing to take any credit. "Kid is smart as shit. Just needed a little shove in the right direction. Talked to the director of the Rays Foundation about him. Slade wants to try out for little league baseball in the spring."

"Fucking baseball," Victor scoffed. "Why aren't you getting the kid into hockey?"

Coulton snorted. "I've tried but he's ornery as shit. Determined to be a major league baseball pitcher."

"You're gonna be fucked if you have to sit through endless innings of the most boring fucking game in the history of fucking sports," Victor persisted.

"Hockey's not for everyone, Vic," Preston chimed in diplomatically…and without cursing.

Victor grumbled under his breath while the rest of them laughed, accustomed to and amused by his disdain for basically everything.

They all quieted down as the director of the Rays Foundation approached the podium, thanking them for their attendance while directing their attention to one side of the room, where countless silent auction items were being displayed. Once the director finished her spiel, she nodded at the kitchen door, apparently the signal for dinner to be served.

Conversation at the table flowed as they worked their way through the salad, dinner, and dessert courses.

Victor's patience for the event ran out before dessert, so he slipped out, claiming he had an early morning breakfast date with his niece, Phillipa. Erika had met Victor's young niece—Pip, as he called her—a couple of times at team picnics, and it was obvious Victor doted on the four-year-old, who had her gruff uncle wrapped around her little finger.

After the meal, she and Blake wandered along the tables with the silent auction items, placing bids more in an attempt to increase the donations than because they actually wanted to win. Once the dishes were cleared, a popular local band began playing, and Erika found herself swept out onto the floor, dancing in a wide circle of Stingrays players and their dates, laughing as Blake spun her around to several fast-paced covers.

They returned to the table, in need of a break and water, followed by Tank, Lara, and Emily. Preston and Coulton were still sitting there, nursing their beers, neither man interested in dancing.

"Hey, guys," a female voice said.

"What's up, Mouse?" Tank asked as Erika turned around, looking for the speaker. Apparently, Tank's standard greeting for Erika was his standard for everyone. All he did was switch the nicknames.

The woman approached their table, shooting Tank a somewhat surprised look.

"You know McKenna?" Blake asked Tank, inviting the petite brunette to join them. "Thought you avoided the administrative offices like the plague."

Tank, who did seem to spend a fair amount of time in trouble for his flamboyant behavior off the rink and due to inappropriate comments made during interviews, flipped Blake the bird, ignored the question, then started kissing Lara.

McKenna winced at Tank's rude gesture.

"Erik, this is McKenna Bailey. She just started working for the Rays as our social media manager a few months ago. McKenna, this is my neighbor, Dr. Erika Nelson."

McKenna pushed up her thick-rimmed glasses as she reached out to shake Erika's hand. "Nice to meet you. I thought you were a guy when Blake told me he'd adopted a puppy with his neighbor, Erik. To be honest, when you said that, I kind of thought you were gay," she said, glancing at Blake.

The table erupted in laughter, everyone cracking up over McKenna's comment.

"Oh my God. Blake…gay!" Erika laughed so hard, tears streamed from her eyes. "That's hilarious."

Blake must have felt the need to flex his heterosexual muscles because he wrapped his arm around Erika's waist, pulling her tightly against him before dropping a kiss on the side of her head. "It's not that damn funny." Turning back to McKenna, he said, "Erik is my nickname for her."

"Sorry. It's just…" McKenna flushed bright red, clearly embarrassed either by her mistaken impression or the fact she'd blurted it out. "Blake's shown me a lot of pictures of Corky. She's so adorable," McKenna gushed to Erika.

Erika was amused to hear Blake was showing off their puppy at work. Not that it surprised her. She'd watched him whip out his phone at the grocery store to show complete strangers pictures of Corky.

Tank seemed less amused. "He's got a million pictures of that dog on his phone. I swear to God, I've seen fewer photos of Elio Moretti's newborn daughter than that damn dog. And Elio's lost his mind over that baby."

Elio, a former teammate, had retired from hockey at the end of the previous season, shocking everyone with a quick wedding to a woman no one even knew he'd been dating. A few months after the wedding, the baby was born.

Blake rolled his eyes, scowling at Tank. "Who hurt you, man?" he joked, referring to Tank's apparent lack of a soul. Erika had always considered Blake to be a playboy—until she'd met Tank. At which point she realized she needed a sliding scale in terms of bad boy levels.

Blake was on the scale, but only at level one. Meanwhile, Tank was on the top tier, completely on his own, as he kept redefining the word playboy for Erika with his actions. The fact the man had unapologetically brought two dates to the same function had her rethinking the definition yet again. Erika couldn't help but be curious if Tank was also planning to sleep with both women tonight.

McKenna flashed Tank a confused look, taking in the fact he had his arms wrapped both around Lara's and Emily's shoulders. She seemed to be trying to figure out which woman was his date. Like most normal women, it didn't seem to occur to McKenna he was there with both.

"Do you guys mind if I snap a picture of you for the socials?" McKenna asked, redirecting her attention to the rest of the table.

"Sure," Coulton said good-naturedly. "How do you want us?"

McKenna moved them all to one side of the table, Preston, Coulton, Blake, and Erika sitting together, as Tank and his two dates stood behind them, the women hanging on Tank, who was grinning from ear to ear.

God only knew how McKenna was going to caption that photo. She thanked them all after snapping a few pics, shooting sideways glances at Tank, who was kissing Lara as Emily playfully toyed with his bowtie, apparently waiting for her turn for some hardcore PDA.

"Um…okay, then," McKenna said, adjusting her glasses again. "I need to keep working the room."

She walked away, casting a couple of looks over her shoulder.

"She seems like a nice girl," Erika said.

Blake nodded. "She is." Turning his attention to Coulton and Preston, he added, "One of you should ask her out."

Coulton shook his head. "Not my type."

Erika waited for him to expound on that, but he didn't. When Blake didn't press, it was obvious he agreed, leaving her to wonder what kind of woman would catch Coulton's eye. Given his gentle disposition, she definitely thought McKenna, who seemed very sweet, if just a tiny bit awkward, might be perfect for him.

Preston also rejected the idea. "I've already met my perfect woman."

Blake rolled his eyes. "Jesus, man. Seriously?"

Erika frowned. "Did I miss something?"

Preston sighed. "I went to a holiday kickoff party in Philly a couple weekends ago with Elio. Met this woman, Chelsea." Preston smiled as he said her name, like it was the greatest word ever spoken. "We really connected. Spent the whole night talking and dancing and…"

He tried to let his silence fill in the blanks, but Tank couldn't resist joining the conversation. "And fucking."

Preston scowled. "Fucking isn't the word I'd use."

"Aw, jeez, Romeo," Coulton mumbled.

Erika giggled. Preston was the team romantic, the guy seriously in love with the concept of love. Obviously, he took exception to Tank's description because if Preston was as enamored of the woman as he appeared, he would never use such a coarse word.

"So you and Chelsea are dating? Going to do a long-distance relationship between Philadelphia and Baltimore?" Erika asked, wondering why the woman wasn't here, if that was the case.

Preston shook his head. "No. She left."

"Left?"

"The country. She flew to Paris to work in a famous design house. She's in fashion," Preston added.

"Wow. Cool job," Erika murmured.

"Basically," Tank said, placing his hand on Preston's shoulder and giving it a squeeze, "our Romeo here is brokenhearted because his dream woman moved halfway across the world right after their one-night stand."

"Oh no. I'm sorry, Preston."

Preston took a swig of his beer, staring at the nearly empty bottle a second before tipping it back and draining it. "If it's meant to be, it'll be."

"Not trying long-distance like Erika suggested?" Blake asked.

"No. Not at all. It's just…she's my soul mate. I know it. So I have to have faith that fate will bring her back to me."

"Like a serendipity thing?" Erika asked.

Preston shrugged. "I know it sounds crazy. It's just…Chelsea was…"

"I think it sounds wonderful," she reassured him, even though she feared Preston might be facing heartbreak somewhere down the line.

The band started playing a slow song, and she found herself being pulled out of her chair by Blake. She followed him to the floor, trying to ignore how good it felt to be wrapped in his strong arms.

"Tired of sharing you with my teammates," he grumbled.

She gave him a breathy laugh. "We were just talking."

"They're monopolizing you."

She pulled away at his grumpy tone, about to tease him and tell him he sounded like Victor, but when she saw his frown, she realized he was being sincere.

Erika decided her best response was to change the subject. "Thank you for inviting me tonight. It's been a lot of fun."

His frown lines faded, replaced with a smile. "Thank you for coming. I know it was last-minute."

Blake's hand stroked up and down her back a few times before stopping at the nape of her neck, his large hand lightly gripping her there. He'd held her that way a few times now, and every single time, her body responded to it the same way. Her nipples budding, her pussy clenching, her stomach fluttering.

She wrapped her arms around his waist more tightly, resting the side of her head on his chest, slowly swaying to the band's cover of Justin Bieber's "Anyone." While Erika had never succumbed to Bieber fever, she really did like this song.

Blake placed a kiss on the side of her head. In her mind, she kept trying to tell herself it was a perfectly friendly, platonic kiss, but her body was interpreting it in a much different way.

Erika smiled when he started humming along to the song. He tried to sing a bit of the chorus but messed up the words. She tilted her head back to look at him. "You realize the words aren't that complicated."

Blake chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's not ‘Enter Sandman' either. I can scream-sing every word of that song."

She rolled her eyes. "I've seen that performance before. Not interested in an encore." One night after pizza, the guys started scrolling through Tank's workout playlist while playing a drinking game. As if they'd planned it, the second that song came on, every Rays player broke out singing, playing air electric guitars and drums and swinging their heads around like lunatics. It was hilarious, but it sure as shit didn't make Erika like the song any better.

They continued swaying to the slow song, Blake's hands exploring with reckless abandon, caressing her back, gripping her waist, stroking her hair. It was the most tactile dance of her life, and it was wreaking havoc on her willpower…and her libido.

When the song ended, she wasn't sure whether to be relieved or depressed because Blake released her, clasping hands with her to lead her back to the table. They hung out for a little while longer, chatting with Preston and Coulton, as Tank and his dates did a sexy three-way bump and grind on the dance floor.

"Had enough?" Blake asked, leaning close.

She nodded.

The two of them said their goodbyes, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they waited for the valet to bring the car.

Once they were tucked into his Audi, the heater blasting warm air on high, Erika twisted to look at Blake. "Is Tank planning on sleeping with both those women tonight?"

Blake glanced her direction, grinning. "Yes."

The answer was too simple, and Blake knew it. Just like she knew he was trying to get a rise out of her.

"Fine," she finally snapped. "I'll bite. How exactly does that work?"

Blake chuckled. "The usual way, but with three bodies in the bed. You have to understand that Lara and Emily are into each other as well. So while Tank will definitely fuck both of them, the women will be enjoying each other at the same time."

Erika frowned. "Have you…ever…"

Blake didn't bother to hold back his loud laughter. "Good God, no. But I like that you think I'm a big enough stud to pull it off."

She snorted.

"I don't share, Erik. When I'm with a woman, I want all her focus on me because she can be damn sure all my focus will be on her."

Erika recalled the night of his "lesson." None of her past boyfriends had ever been so in tune with her body, her needs, her desires. Blake had proven himself to be a master when it came to the female body, but more than that, he'd been an expert on hers, specifically.

"So are you going to keep seeing Doug?" Blake asked.

He had a way of saying Doug's name, drawing it out, that made it sound like the name itself was the most ridiculous one he'd ever heard.

Erika nodded. "Yeah. We have a good time and…" She paused, refusing to say Doug was a nice guy again, even though he was. She should put some effort into thinking of better descriptors, but unfortunately, every time she pictured Doug in her mind, the only word that came to her was nice.

"Still no sex yet?"

He knew the answer to that question. After all, he'd stopped her before she could invite Doug in the other night, and she hadn't seen him since.

She should tell him to mind his own damn business, but given the conversations they'd had over the past month or so, it seemed that the last barrier to full disclosure in their friendship had fallen.

"Nope. Not yet," she replied.

Blake looked pensive when he glanced her way again. "Why not?"

"Because, unlike you, I don't fuck on the first date."

He smirked. "Maybe not, but you and Doug," he drawled out the damn name again, "have been on a lot of dates."

"Six dates is not a lot of dates," she pointed out.

"It's a record for you."

She sighed, realizing how sad that truth was. "I'm just taking things slow."

Erika expected Blake to make some joke about her going overboard on the slow thing, but instead, she got the sense he approved.

Parking near their building, Blake opened her door for her, the two of them walking inside arm in arm. "I'll grab Corky and take her out before bed," Blake offered, following her into her apartment.

Corky, as always, was waiting for them, her tail wagging a million miles an hour as she yapped happily. Erika kicked off her shoes by the door, a bad habit she'd accepted long ago that she would never break. One of these days she was going to invest in a shoe caddy to keep by the front door. Her heels were added to the current pile of shoes residing there, which included her running shoes and the flats she'd worn to work today. She was sort of surprised Corky hadn't used any of them as chew toys.

Blake trailed behind her as she walked to the kitchen.

"Want some coffee?" she offered. "I think I have some decaf pods."

He nodded. "Sounds good. While you make it, I'll walk Cork." Blake grabbed Corky's leash from the hook she'd hung by the door, while Erika put a pod in the machine and pressed the button to brew the first cup. Then she headed to her bedroom, quickly stripping off her dress and putting on her comfies. She tugged on a soft cotton long-sleeve tee and pajama bottoms, adding fuzzy socks to keep her feet warm.

She'd just finished adding the creamer to their coffees when Blake returned.

"You changed," he said.

Erika handed him the cup of coffee. "Getting dressed up is fun…for a little while. These pajamas are a hell of a lot more comfortable."

Blake set his cup on the counter without taking a sip. Instead, he reached out, grasping her waist and pulling her close to him. "I was hoping to strip you out of your dress."

She blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out if she'd heard him right. Before she could question him, he pressed his lips against hers in a kiss that was as hot and hungry as the one he'd given her a few days earlier.

This time, Erika was better prepared. Placing her hands against his chest, she pushed until he broke the kiss.

"Erik," he murmured, clearly unhappy about stopping.

"You can't keep kissing me," she said, wishing her voice sounded less breathy.

He narrowed his eyes. "Our kisses haven't been one-sided, you know. You've been kissing me back."

"I know," she conceded. "But I shouldn't have. Blake, all the reasons we had for not going out three years ago are still there. God," she said, running her fingers through her hair. "If anything, there are even more reasons. We've become friends, best friends, and we have Corky. I'm not going to deny I'm attracted to you, but…" She could see Blake composing a whole list of arguments, ready to fight her. She couldn't let him. "But I'm dating Doug now. He's perfect for me, and I really want to give our relationship a chance."

The desire she'd seen in Blake's eyes faded. It appeared she'd offered the one argument he couldn't refute.

It was a shame it was a lie.

The more time she spent with Doug—and Blake—the more she could see Doug wasn't the one. While she hated that she was putting so much stock in sparks, she couldn't help wanting a man who offered the best of both worlds, someone who wanted a long-term committed relationship, who also knocked her socks off in bed.

"Why don't you keep Corky at your place tonight," she added, desperate to bring this night to a close. "You're headed out on the road for a couple of days and you won't get to see her."

Blake hesitated, and Erika held her breath, praying he would let this conversation end here.

She needed some distance from him to…

Well, to think.

Erika wasn't an impulsive person, so she really needed time to make sense of everything that had happened between her and Blake, to determine how she could avert any more mishaps. And so she could analyze all the dates and conversations and make rational, smart decisions about Doug.

Mercifully, Blake pushed away from the counter, bending down to scoop up Corky, who'd been prancing around their ankles.

"Night, Erik."

His tone was gruff and…God…a bit angry. She chose to pretend she couldn't hear it.

"Good night," she said with a lightness she didn't feel. "Thanks again."

When the door closed behind him, she deflated, all the air seeping out of her body as her foolish head and stupid heart started playing out a different ending to the night.

One where Blake really did strip her out of her dress, lead her to the bedroom, and give her more of those amazing orgasms.

To quote Victor…she was fucking fucked.