Page 33 of The Red Zone
“Hmmmm… I have no recollection of that.”
In fact, I wished I could push the image of last weekend out of my brain completely. Making myself look like a vulnerable idiot in front of him twice in one night was mortifying in and of itself. Then add on him denying me an orgasm right as I was about to finish, and, well, I might as well wear a flashing sign over my head with ‘village idiot’ written in big bold letters.
Damn Scar for planting the seed in my brain that falling into bed with him was a good idea. I could hear her in my head now saying,“A lot can be solved with a hate fuck. Just get it out of your system.”, in her convincing tone. Just like I’d heard her say more than a handful of times in the few weeks since October rudely dropped back into our lives.
What did I just say about not allowing myself to think about this? I needed saving from my own inner turmoil at this point.
“You don’t seem to recall a lot of things,” he said with a smug smile.
I shot him a snide look.
“Need my help jogging your memory?” October leaned over to me with his eyes closed and his lips puckered.
“Stop it! I did not come here to seduce you.” I pushed against his chest and turned my head to dodge his lips. His roaring laugh boomed out through the room and I almost—almost—didn’t hate the sound of it. Which was disgusting in and of itself. October continued laughing hysterically as I pulled back my shoulders and puffed out my chest. “I have a real proposition, and it’s for a good cause.”
“What? My dick isn’t a good cause?”
“Oh, so now you want your dick involved? After the stunt you pulled last Friday? I would purposely jump out of an airplane without a parachute before I’d consider letting you touch me again.”
He gave me a nonchalant shrug. Though the widening grin on his face was a dead giveaway he’d wanted to make some snarky remark about it already happening before. Instinctively, my lips pressed together into a thin line as a pinched expression consumed my face.
“What’s that look for? Still learning how to take a joke?”
“No. There’s just an offensive insult sitting on the tip of my tongue, and I’m tryingreallyhard to be the bigger person right now.”
“If you play your cards right, you can have something big on the tip of your tongue in a minute flat… two tops.” I followed his eyes as he looked down at his sweatpants then shot me a patronizing wink. “Just ask nicely first.”
“October! Oh my god,” I groaned, flailing my hands in the air and slumping back into the couch cushions. Okay, so maybe it was alittlefunny, but I refused to let it show. “Be serious with me for one second. I promise I’ll let you go on telling enough vulgar jokes to fill your heart’s desire once I’m done.”
I took a deep, centering breath before looking at him with as serious of a face as I could muster. “I would like your help.”
Those words felt like acid on my tongue.
Sickening. Absolutely, positively sickening.
“Mae Garten…” He mock choked with a devilish smirk plastered on his lips. “Asking for my help? Oh, this better be good.”
“Preposterous, I know.” I rolled my eyes, refusing to give into his dramatics. “But really, I’m in need of another male model for the charity fashion show Abel’s sister is throwing in a few weeks. All of the proceeds from the event are going to rebuild the children’s oncology ward at Miami Memorial.”
“Is this your way of flirting with me? By telling me I’m good looking enough to be one of your models? If so, it’s working.”
Was it possible to witness someone’s ego growing right in front of you? If so, I had a front row seat. Sure, October wasn’t a sight for sore eyes by any means—which was disgusting to admit now that I thought about it—but would it kill him to be a little more humble?
“If that’s your idea of flirting it would make sense why you’re celibate half of the year.”
“It boosts athletic performance. There are studies on it.”
Yeah, there were studies on it—I blame my curious mind for looking it up after he brought it up the other night at my birthday party. And all of them seemed to come to the same conclusion… that sexual activity, or lack thereof, had no effect on athletic performance.
“Mhmmm,” I hummed. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night then so be it. Now, back to the point, this fashion show will be good press… and you could use some of that. You know, considering the extension you were hoping for hasn’t happened yet.”
I could feel the schooled rage simmering off of him as a taunting smile cracked at the corners of my lips. There was something about getting under his skin which sent a warm rush of satisfaction coursing through my veins. In truth, that little drug of a feeling probably made-up ninety percent of the reason that I continued entertaining October’s presence. Without it, there would be no point in subjecting myself to voluntary torture.
“Just admit that you think I’m hot.”
“Mildly attractive at best,” I replied in a clipped tone while averting my eyes on the football game on the television screen in front of us.
“Bump me up from mild to moderate and I’ll join your little fashion show.”
