Page 49 of Sour Notes

He spits out the word, his face contorted in disgust.

My fingers tighten around the comforter, and I study him. What’s actually happening right now?

“Wolff, you might wanna try and string some words together so I know what the hell you’re going on about, because you’ve come home smelling of some cheap-ass perfume with lipstick on your collar. I gotta tell ya, this doesn't look so good for you right now.”

His brows slam down over his eyes, narrowing them to slits. “Friday night after the wedding. You’re coming with me to the first responder charity fundraiser. As. My. Girlfriend.”

Wait, what?

He’s exercising the girlfriend contract? That’s what this is?

But he has lipstick on his collar and you didn’t leave it there.

“No. You can fuck off, Swayze. I’m not doing shit until you tell me why you’ve got some bitch’s lipstick on you. I spent years dealing with that bullshit, I’m never doing it again. Fake boyfriend or not.”

I see the exact moment realization dawns on him, the tension melting away. His shoulders slump, as he rubs a hand over his jaw.

When our eyes meet, his expression softens, face apologetic and earnest as he walks toward me and climbs onto my bed, sitting beside me with a quiet sigh.

Silver-blue eyes scan mine seriously. “Jesus, Mia. Surely you know I’d never cheat in a relationship?”

Do I?

I stare back at him in silence, his face falling while he waits for me to respond but I’m not saying shit. How would I know? As far as I’m aware, he’s never dated anyone, and my track record for men staying faithful is non-existent.

“Angel. Fuck. No. I would never cheat in a relationship. And I’d sure as shit never cheat on you.”

His palm ghosts my face but falls away without making contact, going to his shirt.

The sight of the hot pink lip print on the collar makes my skin crawl, and yet I can’t look away.

Without another word, he straight up rips his own shirt off, buttons flying all over my bed, and tosses it across the room into my trash can.

Holy hotcakes.

He leans back against the wall, chest bare, and still heaving. Of course, now the offending shirt is gone, his warmth and woodsy scent spill over me, making my mouth water the same way a gooey pizza does.

Lipstick on collar all but forgotten, he’s barely even touching me but apparently that doesn’t matter. My horny coochie's ready to straddle this man and fuck him into oblivion.

What am I? A freakin’ animal?

Swayze tips my chin up to look him in the eyes.

“She’s the entire reason I need you. And, full disclosure, Axel and Haven will be there, so I guess we’re gonna have to clue our friends in on this.” He shakes his head, dropping his hand from my face and sucking in a deep breath before continuing.

“Mary's our assistant at the station and she also happens to be my chief's daughter. Basically untouchable. But she’s set her sights on me and won’t take no for an answer. Before I left tonight, she walked into my office with a stack of paperwork and proceeded to fall straight into my arms, tossing the papers all over the floor.” He pauses, shoving his hands through his hair while his unfocused gaze locks on my trash can.

“That’s how the lipstick got on my collar.” His lip curls in a sneer, eyes rising to meet mine. “She then tried to kiss me, but I didn’t let her. I dropped her ass onto the sofa, then walked straight out to come home to you. I can’t deal with this shit anymore.” Dragging in another ragged breath, he drops his head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

I don’t dare move, breathe even, while I wait for him to continue.

“She’s getting more extreme. Either I quit or talk to the police chief about his precious princess, and we both know how well that’ll go down. I need to end it once and for all by showing her I’m taken.”

I’m giving my best goldfish impression while I process the bomb he just dropped on me.

His earnest eyes meet mine, pleading with me.

He’s telling the truth. I can read it all over his face.