16. Emerson

I fought the need to lean back in and claim her mouth again. I hadn't gotten anywhere near enough of the unbelievably sexy woman in front of me. As I continued battling with myself, she grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the dance floor. For the last twenty minutes or so, a DJ had been playing music, and a few couples speckled the temporary wooden surface.

"Don't you dare turn back," she muttered, her nails biting into my arm as she dragged me behind her. The woman had to realize everyone we knew was wondering what was going on. Especially her brother.

But even though I could feel the scrutiny of my friends and teammates, I couldn't pull my eyes from the sway of her full hips in the tight red dress as she stomped to the dance floor. I was mesmerized. All I could do was follow. Damn, I wanted to smack her ass. Pat it. Squeeze it. Touch it. Hell, pet it. I wasn't picky. If it meant my hand got to be on those round globes of perfection, then I was game.

"Emerson," she snapped.

I swallowed and willed my head to get back in the game. Trying to control the hard-on raging in my pants. Trying to hide the evidence of how this woman made me feel from the people around us. I'd gone from nervous as hell, to trying my best to make it work, to confused, to turned the fuck on. But there was a truth I couldn't deny.

"The guys are gonna ask a lot of fucking questions, Gi." Because it was not normally my style to attack my date's mouth at the table. Especially when she was my best friend's sister.

I winced at the realization. But as I sucked in my bottom lip, I could still taste her, and I couldn't muster any regret.

That kiss might have actually shut my brain off completely. All my life, my thoughts had moved quickly. Sometimes too quickly. But for that ten seconds or ten minutes or whatever length of time her plush lips had been pressed against mine—existing in a vacuum where time didn't exist—I didn't think.

"What do you mean?" Just as we stepped onto the wooden dance floor, she whirled on me. "We're supposed to be fake dating, so why can't I fake kiss you?"

Chest tightening, I watched her, taking in that gorgeous mouth. "Nothing about that kiss was fake, and don't try to bullshit me into thinking you believe any different."

As I said the words, I expected her to put up a fight. But as those fierce brown eyes swimming with desire met mine, my heart leaped. It was impossible to sum up what made everything, including Gianna's bad attitude, so attractive, but it was starting to feel dumb to fight it. Apart from the complications—her ultimately living in New York, my best friend probably killing me, the impending loss of my job and any means to support anyone in a few months—maybe, just maybe, she was meant for me.

She huffed a hard breath, but instead of fighting, she shocked the hell out of me by wrapping her arms around my neck. "Shut up and dance with me."

"Gladly." Slipping my hands along her hips, I pulled her close and crossed my wrists just above her ass.

She hard-core fought against the shiver that the brush of my fingertips against the curve of her ass caused, making it hard not to grin.

"Are we going to pretend that was fake too?"

"I hate you," she muttered.

I laughed, because she absolutely didn't. "What happened, Mariposa?" I was the easy target, but not the real one.

"I tell myself I don't care what he thinks, and then he says the one thing that sets me off."

My hold tightened around her automatically. I hated that she cared about some other guy. Especially when he wasn't worth her time.

"No. I see what you're assuming," she said, "but that isn't what I meant, exactly."

I took a slow breath. Normally, I didn't have a temper, and flying off the handle wasn't going to win me any points with her, so I locked down the urge to let out a long breath. "So explain," I said calmly, swaying to the slow music but not loosening my hold on her.

Hearing the story didn't help with my anger. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Rage burned deeper with every word out of her mouth.

"He's a fucking tool bag." The words escaped in clipped tones, beating from deep inside me as I grasped one of her hands and squeezed. "You are a goddess. Way too good for me."

"He's an idiot." She shrugged. "I shouldn't let him get to me. But yet he does."

The warning bells rang inside my head. If he still had the power to upset her, then it was likely there were unsettled feelings there. That was reasonable, since they'd only broken up a few weeks ago. Still, the thought caused an ache in my chest. If she was going to put effort into a man, it should be a man who cherished her. Not some asshole who said she couldn't possibly land a professional athlete. What the hell? This woman could have anyone she wanted. Anyone with half a brain would know they were lucky to be blessed with her time.

"It's backward," I mumbled as I tucked her in closer. Her hair brushed my jaw, and for one second, I let myself inhale her. Pull a piece of her into me. Soak in the way it felt to have her body pressed to mine. Our linked fingers rested above her right tit, and the swell of it pressed into the back of my hand. As we continued to sway to the music, her hip brushed my thigh, sending a rush of heat through me.

"What's backward?" Her forehead brushed my jaw as she tilted her head up to look at me. For a second, I got lost in her deep brown eyes. They were swimming with so much emotion and vulnerability it hurt to be this close.

She was good at hiding her true feelings, but I'd studied her enough to know that her eyes always gave her away. Like the keys to a kingdom, one glance gave me so much.

"The idea that you're not good enough for me. It's so backward."

Breath hitching, she wet her lips. Between her scent in the air, the press of her body to mine, and her mouth just inches from me, my body was screaming for me to reach out and take her. To devour her mouth and show her exactly how much someone like me could actively want her. "Because you're smart and sexy as fuck."

Her eyes went wide, and her body stiffened in my arms, but she didn't pull away.

"Half the guys here haven't been able to take their eyes off you since we walked in. And I don't need to be a vice president of anything to know any guy would be lucky as fuck to get to call you theirs."

I pulled her closer and pressed my lips to her temple, relishing the shiver that raced through her.

"If things were different, Gi," I whispered against her skin, "I wouldn't be trying so hard to keep myself away from you."

If she didn't have plans to be back in New York. If I wasn't facing so many unknowns. If she wasn't my best friend's sister and the last person I'd ever want to hurt. If I was settled enough to be the kind of partner she deserved. Then I would have already taken her to my bed.

"Em," she whispered, that single word running across my skin, burrowing into me, claiming a space that might forever belong to her.

I swallowed the lust and genuine need for this woman. Fought the feelings that were getting harder to ignore.

As the song came to an end, I loosened my hold, and she stepped back, glancing over my shoulder at our table.

"Chris is all glary." Her shoulders tightened, and her chin rose a fraction. In a matter of one breath, she donned the armor she wore so no one would see the tired or vulnerable or hurt woman hiding below and scowled his way.

Fuck, I wished she could see that she didn't have to fight every battle alone.

Teeth gritted, she said, "I'll just tell him?—"

"I've got your brother." I turned so I was at her side and pressed my hand back into the small of her back, then guided her to our table and pulled out a chair. Once she was settled, I made a beeline for my best friend.

He tilted his head, silently indicating the space on one side of the dance floor. With a nod, I followed. I owed him a conversation.

"What the fuck is going on?" he snapped, rounding on me. He wanted answers about what was going on between his sister and me. There was no way I'd admit my true feelings, but I couldn't lie to him. So I'd explain something else.

"See Jake." I kept my back turned to the douche, but Chris scanned the room, and when he stopped and narrowed his eyes, I said, "See the blond he's with?"

Chris nodded.

"His very pregnant date?" I prompted.

Chris's face turned to stone.

"That would be his baby."

Like a current of electricity had jumped through him, his whole body jolted. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. His fists tightened into thick balls.

"Are you telling me that fucker cheated on my sister?" Chris growled through clenched teeth. "Are you saying that while I welcomed the asshat into my house, gave him tickets to games, signed shit for him, he was fucking around on her?"

I gave a clipped nod, and that's all it took for Chris to growl and take a step to the side like he was going to barrel past me. I grasped his arm, stopping him before he could storm over to Jake and do something stupid. Then I pulled in a cleansing breath, searching for a calmness I didn't feel.

"Then," I said, "he told her she had to be lying about dating me. That there was no way a guy like me would date someone as unappealing as her."

He yanked his arm away, trying to free himself from my grasp, but I tightened my grip.

"Listen to me," I demanded. "If you go over there screaming instead of letting me take care of it, it'll only prove his point."

"The fuck?" Chris fixed the glare he was so well known for on me.

"Dragon, if someone picked on Avery, if a man said something awful about her, what would you do?" I lifted one brow.

"Go after him."

"Right. So Gi's date should be the one to take care of the Jake problem. And that's exactly what I'll do if you back off and let me."

He blinked, and the hard lines on his face softened a fraction. "Oh." He glanced over at Gi, then focused on me again. "Oh." With one hand, he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Comfort your girl. Kill the ass. Right. That's what you're doing." He shook his head. "Damn, you really are good at the fake out. After the way you kissed her, and then the looks between you two on the dance on the floor, I really thought…"

I said nothing. Not admitting to something wasn't the same as denying it. At least that's what I was telling myself.

He shook his head and blew out a breath. "Guess I'll let you do your thing."

I nodded. "I'm going to deal with Jake and then get her out of here."

With the hint of a grateful smile, he dipped his chin. "Thanks."

"Don't need to thank me," I assured him, and then I was off, headed back to Gianna, whose eyes hadn't left her brother and me. "Want a drink, Mariposa?" I asked, bending at the waist and looming over her.

"White wine?" she asked, like she really thought there was a right answer here. Didn't she know that I didn't care what she wanted? That I'd get her anything?

I gauged the crowd, looking for the idiot. I wouldn't ever forget the man. Not after the way he drank Gi in when he saw her in that dress. The way the material molded to her body was sinful. The slit that ran up, showing off the thighs I wanted wrapped around my hips. Every curve made my mouth water. But I'd forced myself to sit in my damn chair and brood silently as he eye-fucked her. The dude had one of those pretty faces that screamed he was owed a good nose breaking. Just to take away the shiny perfection and symmetry there. If not for the buzz cut that was more fitting for an eight-year-old than a grown-ass man, I would have had to admit the guy was good-looking. In that too perfect Ken doll type way, of course.

It only took a minute to spot the douche bag at the bar on the other side of the room.

"Streaks."

He snapped his head up, pulling his attention away from the chick he was with. I didn't recognize her, not that he ever brought the same date twice. His agent had probably set him up with her. He didn't care who he took to these events. They were just arm candy. Someone to make him look good. He'd drop them as quickly as he found them. He lived by the friends before chicks mantra in life. The guy was almost thirty-five, and it wasn't looking like he'd ever settle down.

"Sup, Bambi?" he asked, strolling over.

I tipped my head to the bar and took off toward it. He stuck to my side, and as we made our way across the room, I explained what I needed.

"Asshole," Kyle muttered. "Learn how to treat women. All women"—he waved, gesturing to the whole outdoor space—"or your hand should be your only pleasure."

I nodded. He was fucking right. But as we sidled up to the bar next to Gi's ex, I jumped into character. "I don't know, man. I'm just so fucking happy."

"Probably because you finally got the girl."

In that moment, I could be honest about the woman who haunted my brain. "I don't get how I got so lucky. I've been waiting a year, maybe more, for this." I shook my head. "And when she looks at me and smiles, damn. I didn't know that kind of feeling existed."

He smirked, resting his elbow on the bar. "Getting to fuck those tits and that pretty mouth? Must feel like you've died and gone to heaven."

I frowned at the way he'd gone off script, but my irritation was forgotten when the guy behind me scoffed.

"Don't get your hopes up. Gianna's not a get-on-her-knees girl." When I turned, Jake smirked. "At least not one who gives good head. She's more of a cold, selfish bitch."

I locked my hands into tight fists. Who the fuck talked about a woman that way? Especially Gi. Sure, she was salty and tough, but she was the opposite of cold. The woman was all fire and heart. But I kept my anger in check and continued with the ruse. "Huh," I said with a shrug. "That must be a you thing. She and I don't have that issue."

A choked sound escaped him as he scrutinized me through slitted eyes.

"Jake, right? Nice to you meet you." I held my hand out.

The guy looked like he was made from plastic. The skin of his face was too smooth, his eyebrows too sculpted. And the haircut was definitely worse up close.

"Wait, is this pencil dick?" Kyle peered around me, pointedly looking at Jake's stubby fingers resting on the bar top. "Dude, he's got toddler hands." Then his eyes dropped to his crotch. "I get why she traded up."

Rather than shake my hand, which was still extended, Jake balled his fists and tucked them into his pockets. He rocked back on his heels and frowned at me. The slight crease between his brows screamed confused, so I wanted to be clear.

"For the record." I met his eyes. "Gianna is exactly my type of woman. Go right ahead and piss her off, because damn if I don't love when she's fired up. But hurt her." Stepping close, I lowered my voice. "Hurt her, and you and I will have issues. Because I'm all fun and games until my girl gets hurt."

With a thick swallow, Jake blinked twice. Then he spun and walked away.

"Damn, dude. You're scary as fuck when you want to be." Kyle chuckled. "That had unhinged written all over it."

I turned back to my teammate and sent him a smirk. "Don't fuck with people I care about."

"Well, we totally made him feel like an ass." Kyle laughed, holding a fist out for a bump. "We crushed that."

Though I tapped my knuckles to his, I wasn't sure I agreed. I was still fighting the urge to cut Kyle's tongue out for even thinking about Gianna's mouth or tits. And yet I couldn't even bring it up without making him suspicious. Because normally I could take a joke. "Not a fan of the improv," I said instead.

He shrugged. "Got us where we needed to go. Just don't tell Chris. He'd deck me." Kyle laughed.

I rubbed my palm over the top of his head, mussing his hair. He batted me away, but I half jumped on him and wrapped him in a bear hug.

With a firm push, he backed away and ran his hand over his head, smoothing out his hair. "Fuck off." With that, he strode away, leaving me alone at the bar.

I called the bartender over and convinced him to pop the cork of a bottle of wine and hand it over. Then, with it in one hand and two plastic cups in the other, I headed back to Gi. She'd suffered enough tonight. Although the zoo staff had gushed about her signs and so had all the Revs and the donors in attendance, not a single person from the douchey firm's table had even bothered to come congratulate her. Her company sucked. I always gave Chris shit for butting in and telling her she needed a new job, but the truth of it was that he was right.

"Come on." I pulled her to her feet and guided her away from the crowd. As we left, the weight of at least a dozen sets of eyes landed on me, but I couldn't make myself care who was watching us.