Page 63 of Stumped

I have no fucking clue who Comma Toes are—I thought they were calledComatoseuntil she corrected me—but judging by the way she’s singing along and throwing her hands in the air, she’s very familiar with their music. The minute the band came on, I lost my date to them. But it’s worth it to watch her groove with other patrons, everyone singing into invisible microphones, tossing their hair and bodies around.

When she suggested asecret gig, I was sceptical because I thought it would be us and not the whole fucking world. However, spending an evening with Vera? Even with a bar full of strangers is totally my type of thing. She’s been away from me for most of the evening so far and I don’t hate it. Because she glances over regularly to make sure I’m okay, smiling so wide and fucking beautiful it takes everything in me not to pull her back into my lap and keep her there.

It’s terrifying how quickly I’ve fallen in love with her.

At the same time, it feels right.

When I stepped onto the field in Hyderabad, I was unsettled. I don’t know if anybody noticed it, but I was on edge the whole time. I got us the win we needed and it improved my mood, however, I still didn’t feel comfortable in my skin. While it’s a low hum now, I can’t seem to shake it off. The hardest part is I know what it is and I’m not sure what to do about it.

Being in love with Vera when she doesn’t feel the same way is going to drive me absolutely insane. The right thing to do is to end our arrangement, because the only person getting hurt here is me. It’s been weighing on me since she called me herfriendand I loathe the way it prickles under my skin. I thought having her close would quiet the voice, but it’s gotten louder since I walked through her front door.

Talking about it would help, but I don’t know how to bring it up.

The music switches to a ballad and I push my chaotic thoughts away as couples start pairing off. Vera spins in a slow circle, the hand holding her glass swaying over her head. Her eyes are closed and she’s vibing on her own. All night, I’ve caught people admiring her and thankfully none have approached. Because I might turn into the kind of person I hate. Being possessive isn’t attractive. I may have said I can’t share her, but that doesn’t mean I can go in swinging if someone shows interest. Speaking of which…this tall, burly dude is now a foot away from my girl and he’s rubbing his jaw and licking his lips like he’s about to pounce on her. I don’t even realise I’ve moved until she’s grinning up at me.

“My knight in shining armour,” she teases, one arm loosely wrapped around my neck.

“More like possessive asshole, but I prefer the positive spin you put on it.”

She laughs and finishes her drink, setting it on the table closest to us. “I like you being possessive.”

“How would you feel about me punching someone for looking at you like you’re their next meal?”

“I’d hate it. Mostly because you’d hurt yourself again and we can’t have that.” I shake my head as she massages my injured shoulder and pouts up at me. “But also, it might get me really hot and I’d let you fuck me in the bathroom.”

Of course Vera would be into public sex. I have nothing against it, but I’m too famous right now to even consider the possibility. I’d fuck her anywhere, everywhere and all the damn time if I could.

“I’ll keep that in mind for the off season.”

“I’ll remind you,” she replies, hums along with the song. I’m still processing the fact we’re talking about being together even after the ICL is over. There’s a pinch in my chest and I decide she’s not aware of what she’s saying.

The band announces they’re taking a fifteen minute break and the lights come back on. I hurriedly tug my cap lower and keep my head down as I guide Vera back to our table, which thankfully hasn’t been taken over by other patrons. She drops into the chair beside mine, swinging her legs on my lap. One hand tugs at the hair under my cap before she squeezes my neck. Thanks to the brighter than usual lights, I can see how dark her eyes are, the black in her brown orbs taking up all the space available. My dick stirs at her expression and I know if we weren’t in public, she’d mount me and forget about everything else.

Her hand slides to my jaw and she pulls me forward, our mouths crashing in a messy kiss. She giggles before we find the exact angle, her lips parting and tongue darting out to stroke against mine. I grip her legs draped across my lap so all our moving doesn’t unseat the both of us. The kiss deepens, the tasteof her rum intoxicating as I suck on her tongue a little harder before we’re breaking away.

She hums, eyes hooded as she rubs her thumb around my mouth. “Sorry for abandoning you. I haven’t seen these guys live since college.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I had the best seat in the house.”

“Is that right?”

“I got to watch your dress ride up every time you were head banging. Others probably got to see it too, but none of them will ever know what’s under this outfit.” I tug at the hem of her dress, which has now put her soft thighs on display. I love how comfortable Vera is in her body that she doesn’t adjust her clothes unless she’s flashing too much. Right now, she’s showing off the right amount and my hands are greedy as they map all of the visible skin.

She sighs and kisses me again, gripping the back of my neck as I sink into her. I’ll never get sick of this—the touching and grazing, the way she stares into my eyes and how so often there are smiles she doesn’t offer anyone else. Not to mention the way she kisses me, like she needs me to breathe.

Fuck, I needherto do just about anything.

“Now, tell me what’s on your mind,” she says softly as she leans away.

Do it. Tell her. Speak your mind.“I don’t want to be your friend.” Her eyes widen and I cringe before adding, “I want to be more than your friend, Vera.”

She stares at me and I see the moment it clicks. She nods slowly and licks her lips. “I’m sorry for saying that. Youaremore than a friend, Elias. I have…my history with rel—” she’s cut off when the band starts up again and I swallow hard. “Let’s get out of here.”

I nod, because as much as this band means something to her, I need to be alone with her. I need us to have this conversation. Or I’m going to completely lose my mind. We’re on our feet, hands linked as we head to the exit. She’s silent by my side as the valet hurries off to get my car. When he returns, I tip him and get in. Once we’re on the main road, I turn to her and she’s already staring at me. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Drive around for a bit?”

I reach for her hand, slipping my fingers between hers, and follow the traffic with no destination in mind. It’s quite late, but I still stay under the speed limit and follow every rule I can to avoid getting caught by the cops. Even as I think it, two officers in brown pants and white shirts appear out of nowhere and wave us to the side. This is how the Chennai cops catch drunk drivers and bikers without helmets. Gotta give them credit for finding new ways to trick us.

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