“We met when her dog humped mine,” I say confidently to the asshole and his girlfriend. “And it also turned out she was interviewing later that day for a project as my designer.” I turn to Skylar again, playing up the hearts and flowers. “I guess you could say…it’s fate.”
And when playing it up, you go for the gold. I loop an arm around her waist and bring her close. She fits so well against me, especially when she gazes up at me with her green eyes flickering with over-the-top adoration.
“Yes, it was fate,” she says, roaming a hand up my chest. “I was sure he was going to turn me down. It’s not every day when your dog goes full doggy-style on a hot hockey player’s pup,” she adds, then turns back to them with a carefree shrug. “What can you do?”
I laugh, brushing my lips against her hair because why the hell not? “I did the only thing I could. I hired her, then asked her out on a date.”
“Really?” Landon still sounds doubtful, and I hate him more.
“Yes. Right away. I was taken,” I say, dusting a kiss to her cheek just to prove how taken. Also, because I can.
“That’s sweet,” Gretchen says in her milquetoast tone, but clearly buying it.
“And then we started dating,” Skylar says.
“Where did you go? On your first date?” Landon doesn’t want to let up on the grilling. Does this ass think he’s besting me? He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. I don’t relent. I push till the bitter end.
“We went to yoga,” I say, then shoot my fake girlfriend a lovey-dovey grin. “Remember that class?”
“Sure do. It gave a whole new meaning to hot yoga,” she says, with a purr in her voice and a dirty gaze just for me.
“So did the hot tub,” I add, then cuddle her even closer.
“But it was definitely when we went to my favorite consignment shop and touched the same couch at the same time, like?—”
“Lady and the Tramp,” I cut in, because cute new couples finish each other’s sentences adorably.
“Exactly. That’s when I knew.”
I turn to Landon, puffing out my chest. “So, thank you,” I say. “If you hadn’t walked away from the best woman ever, I might have been?—”
Gretchen emits a tiny shriek. “We’re out of champagne, Lan! I told you to get more. You never listen to me.”
“I do too,” he insists.
“You don’t.”
“You don’t listen to me.”
“Landon,” she seethes. “Now is not the time. You need to fix this!”
“You’re right. You’re right. Sorry.” With a frown, he surveys the table with empty bottles, eyes flickering with worry, whether for disappointing Gretchen or the guests it’s hard to say.
Aww. The poor, unhappy couple. I feel so bad for them. So bad I want to rub it in their faces.
“We’ll get you some,” I say, fixing it for them. And fine, we both have public images, so it doesn’t hurt to be a nice guy. But it really doesn’t hurt to show them how happy and helpful we are while they’re…bickering like rats fighting over sewer crumbs.
“Dude! You’d do that?” Landon asks.
“Of course. Sky and I—” I stop as if I just realized that rhymes, shooting her another lovestruck grin, before cooing, “We rhyme, baby.”
“We do,” she says.
I blink away the haze of happiness I’m floating on. “Where was I?” I clap Landon’s shoulder. “Right, bro. We love to help others who need it.” I drop my voice to a man-to-man whisper. “I can tell things are rough. We’ve got you.”
The second we’re outside, I say to Skylar, “I hope you don’t mind?—”
“Us rubbing in how much happier we are?” she asks, like the prospect is sweet sugar on her tongue. “I don’t. Not one bit. Their sour relationship has turned out to be the best revenge.”
