Page 62 of A Fool's Game

“Hey.”

I jump a foot toward the wall and raise my wet hands defensively as a pound and a shout echo through the still locked door.

“What?” I ask, although I’m pretty sure I know the answer.

“We’re getting started on pizzas in the kitchen. If you’redone jerking off in there…” Taylor’s voice is both loud and muffled, as if he’s speaking with his face pressed against the door.

I take a step closer, imagining him out there. I reach my hand out to touch the wood, but shake it off and grab the hand towel, drying my hands and opening the door.

“I was washing the flour off my hands.”

He smirks. “With the door deadbolted?”

I look down at the sage green and brown paisley printed towel in my hands, completely and utterly at a loss for what to do next.I can’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of this evening making pizza and playing nice while this guy badgers me at every turn, calling out every word that comes out of my mouth. Always being there to swoop in and show me who knows Gem the best.Maybe this is where I give up. Call her the one who got away. Call this whole thing a fantastic learning experience about staying in your goddam comfort zone.

And maybe Taylor sees all of this on me, takes pity or decides to let me off easy, because his next words are softer, smoother around the edges and spoken like one human speaks to another. “Come on, it’s going to be fun.”

He walks away without waiting for a response, and I look up, watching him go.

And then I hang the towel neatly on the hook and follow.

Chapter 23

Taylor

It would take a fellow culinarian to spot my nerves in this kitchen, with everyone crowding around the butcher block island, trying and failing to throw pizza dough into perfect rounds, arguing over which toppings belong on pizza and in which order.

A dinner party like this, with nonstop action, and therefore distraction, is designed with one thing in mind—avoiding having to make conversation.

When Gem first told me she wanted to have this party, get everyone in her house together to meet Ainsley, the first thing that came to mind was the six of us sitting around the table, chatting about everyone’s bright futures. Someone would inevitably ask about Gem’s internships, and maybe she would finally be tipsy enough to let the truth slip. I’m not ready to face it, and I sure as fuck don’t want to be having that conversation for the first time in front of a bunch of people.

In some ways, I sowed the field that’s about to reap every good thing from me. I helped her decide to focus on publishing, got her excited about her new program and the idea of a careerhelping other writers realize the dream of seeing their books published. It was both shortsighted and inevitable. She needed a direction, and now that direction is threatening to lead her far away from me. And this guy, the one from her childhood who showed up with all his money, could take her where she wants to go.

As much as I feel the last quarter of Gem’s program lowering over us like a fog of uncertainty. As often as I feel her omit some details about her internships that she knows I won’t like. As much as I want to honor the promise I made to myself not to be the one who holds her back, not to drag her into my dreams at the expense of her own…

I can’t help it.

I’m not ready to let go.

So, I do the only thing I know how. I throw such a lively, distracting dinner party that there won’t be a single second of silence that needs to be filled.

“This is the best pizza on the planet,” Lana proclaims as she sits back in her seat, draining what could be her sixth glass of the fancy French wine Ainsley provided. Again.

“That’s impossible,” Ainsley chimes in, seeming to have grown more comfortable around the twins who, just a short time ago, he was convinced were apparitions. “Because this,” he gestures to his own pineapple monstrosity, “is the best pizza on the planet.”

The table erupts once more in arguments, boos, and laughter as each person tries to sing the merits of their own creation over the objections of others.

I just sit back and watch it all happen, contentedly full and a little drunk.

Gem is sitting beside me, leaning back with her shoulder against my chest as she laughs along with the others. I’ve been keeping an eye on Ainsley’s hand on her thigh for the last halfhour, creeping higher and higher. I want to be annoyed, but I have my hands on her as well, so, as usual, I’m just getting more and more turned on.

As hesitant as I was, and still am, about the merits of adding this guy to our situation right when so many other things are being thrown into flux, there’s no denying the pure magic we all made in Gem’s room the other night.Even if the guy never caves and lets me suck his dick, which he will, the feel of competing with him for space between Gem’s legs made my dick harder than I thought possible. The adrenaline of the fight when he snapped and shoved me off the bed. The way he turned docile so fast when I started barking orders.

Shit’s got me fucked up.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Gem says, pulling herself upright in her seat with both hands gripping the table.

When she has to steady herself climbing to her feet, I smile up at her. “Got it?”

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