One Night Stand-In (Boyfriend Material #3) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,20
with something.”
“I’m always happy to give you a hand, and you know that, but”—Baxter tips his forehead to me and clears his throat exaggeratedly—“maybe first, you finally want to introduce me to your kind lady friend?”
“Ah, yes. Baxter, this is Lola. Lola, meet Baxter,” Lucas says, and I extend a hand.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“Likewise. And it’s about time,” Baxter says, his eyes drifting to Lucas. “I’ve heard so much about you from him.”
I flinch. I must be hearing things. Must be the hunger causing aural hallucinations. “All fabulous stuff, I’m sure,” I joke, since I’m sure it was nothing of the sort.
“Definitely all good,” Baxter says, dead serious.
And I’m thoroughly confused. Lucas appears flummoxed too. Except is that a hint of red coursing over his carved cheeks?
I do believe Lucas is blushing.
I rein in a smile. I shouldn’t feel so delighted over this little discovery, yet I do. Because maybe, just maybe, he didn’t entirely mean it when he said, It was only one night. Maybe I’ve haunted his dreams since then. I like that possibility, for more reasons than I care to unpack right now.
“Baxter, my man. Let’s not let the lady know all my secrets,” Lucas says, like he’s desperately trying to sweep something under the rug.
Baxter chuckles, then brings a finger to his lips. “Then I won’t tell her you thought she looked stunning in all black at that party a year ago. The same one that Rowan worked on the costume for.”
A gong clangs.
A bell rings.
And Lucas and I both look at each other. I suspect my expression mirrors his. Eureka.
“They went to that party? The same one we went to?” I ask, shock racing through me as I picture the new bowling alley in Chelsea, the retro-style place that’s all the rage now. “The one at Pin-Up Lanes?”
Lucas scrubs a hand across his stubbled jaw. “I never saw him there. That’s why I didn’t think they met at that party. But they must have.”
My smile widens. “Definitely. Maybe just for a few seconds. I invited Luna to go with me, but I didn’t think she ever showed up. Which is typical for her.” I bounce on my heels, ready to hitch a flying carpet to Manhattan to get the damn guitars.
“And I invited Rowan to go with me. But I didn’t think he showed up. Which is also typical for him.”
“Or maybe you were too busy checking out the cat,” Baxter says in a stage whisper. “Oops.”
I grin wickedly, like a sexy black cat, because that little nugget makes me purr. Maybe I’m vain, or maybe I’m simply human. But for the longest time, I’ve been sure that Lucas had never been into me the same way I was into him. That he’d rejected the possibility of more with me and his parting comment that weekend was his sole truth.
Perhaps it wasn’t.
“It was a good costume,” Lucas says, owning it.
“Glad you enjoyed my fierce feline look,” I say, a little flirty, and it feels like I’ve slipped back in time to that night we were tangled up together, kissing deeply, holding tightly.
“It was the fiercest.” His voice dips to an appreciative rumble.
Sparks shimmy over my skin, but I ignore them. “And what were you that night? If memory serves, there was shirtlessness involved.”
“A fireman,” he says, a little smoky.
An image flashes before my eyes. Lucas, in turnouts, suspenders, and no shirt. No wonder I don’t remember if my sister was at the party.
But today I’m operating with blinders on, because I’m here for a reason.
For Luna.
The person I love. The person I look out for. She’s my little bird, and she needs help, even if she made this mess.
I turn to Baxter, needing to make sure we’re following the right clues. “This means you don’t have the guitars? The ones the landlord left?”
Baxter shakes his head. “No guitars here.”
We thank Baxter and catch a cab to Pin-Up Lanes. As soon as I click my seat belt in, my phone dings with a text message. The Charlie’s Angels’ theme music tells me it’s my group chat with Amy and Peyton.
Amy: Dear Diary, it is nearly nine and we have not heard from Lola. We fear she is trapped in a sexy-ex vortex. We will continue to hold out hope for her.
Lola: There is no vortex, I assure you.
Peyton: She’s alive! But how do we know this is truly you? Prove it. What does Lola have tattooed on her ass?