Page 6 of Trick or Tease

GARRETT

M y apartment was on the thirty-fourth floor, high enough to make Billy whistle when we stepped off the elevator. The hallway was all polished hardwood and muted lighting. It was the kind of building where the doorman knew your name and your dry cleaner picked up twice a week.

I wasn’t in a penthouse yet, but one day. If I made partner, I would absolutely be moving to the Upper East Side. My building on the Upper West Side was nice. Expensive, but not East Side expensive.

I slid my key card through the reader and pushed open the door, gesturing for them to go ahead of me. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

It wasn’t humble and we all knew it. Large windows dominated the living room, offering a view of the city that stretched out in all its glory.

The furniture was all very neutral. A beige leather couch, glass coffee table, abstract art that came with the place.

Everything perfectly coordinated by some interior designer I’d never met.

“Holy shit,” Billy breathed, walking straight to the windows. “You can see everything from up here.”

Sabrina moved more slowly, taking it all in with those blue eyes that missed nothing. I found myself watching her reaction, wondering what she thought of this sterile showcase I called home. Her fingers trailed along the back of the couch as she walked toward the windows.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “Do you ever just stand here and watch the city?”

I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “Not really. I’m usually at the office, if I’m being honest.”

Lucy sat on the couch with a bounce, testing the cushions. “This is fancier than anything I’ve ever seen. How much does a place like this cost?”

“A lot,” I said, dodging the answer she was looking for.

The truth was, the rent was ridiculous, but it was part of the image. You couldn’t make partner living in some studio apartment in Queens. Appearances mattered in this business, even if it meant I was basically camping in someone else’s idea of luxury.

“Guest rooms are down the hall,” I said, pointing toward the back of the apartment. “Sabrina, you can take the one on the right. Billy, Lucy, you get the one on the left.”

Billy grinned and slung his arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “We’re gonna freshen up a bit.”

I knew that look. They were going to do more than freshen up.

“Don’t fuck in my shower,” I called after them as they headed down the hall, already giggling and whispering to each other.

Their laughter echoed back to me as they disappeared into the guest room.

I shook my head. I was only a little jealous.

Good for them, honestly. After all these years together, they still acted like teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

It was kind of amazing, even if it was occasionally nauseating to witness.

I loosened my tie and walked to the kitchen, which was all stainless steel and granite that I never used for anything more than reheating takeout.

I opened a bottle of wine from my overpriced collection and poured Sabrina a glass of something red. For myself, I grabbed the good scotch. I was intent on celebrating tonight even if I was the only one that was interested in joining me.

“Come on,” I said, nodding toward the sliding glass doors. “Best view in the building.”

The balcony wasn’t huge, but it was enough space for two chairs and a small table. The city stretched out below us. Even thirty-four floors up, you could still hear the hum of traffic, the occasional horn, and the ever-present siren.

Sabrina leaned against the railing, wine glass cradled in both hands, and stared out at the view. The wind caught her blonde hair, pushing it back from her face. She looked so out of place up here in her flannel and jeans, but somehow more real than anything else in my carefully curated life.

“It’s incredible,” she said softly. “I can’t believe people actually live like this.”

I took a sip of scotch, feeling the familiar burn. “You get used to it.”

“Do you?” She turned to look at me. “Get used to it, I mean. Does it ever feel normal?”

I considered the question, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m used to it and then…” I gestured vaguely at the space between us. “Then people from home show up and remind me where I came from.”

She smiled at that. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

The scotch was doing its job, loosening the knots in my shoulders and allowing me to breathe a little easier.

“So,” I said, settling into one of the chairs. “Catch me up. What’s been happening in our little corner of paradise while I’ve been conquering the legal world?”

Sabrina laughed and took the chair next to mine. “Oh, you know. The usual small-town drama. Nothing as exciting as billion-dollar deals.”

“Try me.”

She took a sip of wine, considering where to start. “Well, Jack McNeely got himself into quite the situation last month. Lucy and I were driving past the Jenkins farm around six in the morning headed out to pick up some supplies and we saw Sheriff Martinez’s cruiser parked by the hog pen.”

“Please tell me Jack didn’t try to steal a pig.”

“Worse.” Sabrina’s eyes lit up with mischief. “They found him buck naked, passed out in the pen.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded. “He was cold and wanted to sleep under the heat lamps.”

“He’s lucky they didn’t eat him.”

“I think they thought he smelled worse than them.”

He laughed. “What a way to wake up.”

“Yeah, but it must seem like small potatoes to you,” she said. “Our big news is a drunk doing something stupid. I guess I can see why you don’t want to go back to Greenleaf. You’ve outgrown it.”

“That’s not why I don’t like going home.”

“No?”

“Everyone is all up in your business back there. Everyone who sees me on the street has a hundred questions for me, and they always give me shit about moving to the city to make something of myself. It’s frustrating.”

“It would really mean a lot to your parents if you were there. I know you’re handling million-dollar deals?—”

“Billion,” I reminded her.

“Damn, right. I can’t even imagine that many zeroes. You must be crazy busy.”

“Yes, but actually, I got this last one done early and my schedule has opened up. I beat the deadline by two weeks. Maybe I could go home for a few days.”

“Yeah?” she asked. The hope in her eyes pulled at me.

But more than that, she awoke something in me.

Lust?

Desire?

“If you promise to keep me safe from answering everyone’s questions,” I added.

She grinned and held out her hand. “Deal.”

I took her hand and let myself hold on a little longer than a proper handshake. “As long as your boyfriend doesn’t get mad.”

Was it cheesy? Absolutely. But I needed to know.

“Oh, I’m not dating anyone.”

I didn’t know if it was because it had been a while since I got laid or if it was just nostalgia, but I was feeling things for this woman that I’d never felt when we were teenagers. She was gorgeous and she wasn’t even dressed up or trying.

My eyes focused on the curve of her lips as she spoke, the way they moved around her words.

Shit, when had I started noticing things like that?

She had always been pretty, but sitting here in the city lights with her hair catching the breeze, she looked like something out of a dream I didn’t know I’d been having.

The flannel shirt she wore was soft and faded, the kind of comfortable that only came from years of wear.

It hugged her curves in all the right places without trying to, which somehow made it sexier than any designer dress I’d seen on the women in the city.

Her jeans fit her perfectly, accentuating legs that I suddenly wanted wrapped around my waist.

I took another sip of scotch, trying to get my head on straight. This was Sabrina. My childhood friend. But sitting here watching her lips curve around the rim of her wine glass, all I could think about was what those lips would feel like pressed against mine. Or around my cock.

She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and I found myself wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. Would it be as soft as it looked? What kind of sounds would she make if I kissed her?

“That’s a real shame,” I said and finally released her hand. “Girl like you should have men lined up the block.”

She laughed and it felt like she was running her fingertips down my back. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” I leaned forward slightly, drawn by something I couldn’t name. “I mean it. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Her cheeks flushed pink. She looked down at her wine glass. When she looked back up, something had shifted between us. The air felt charged. Like I could feel a sizzling in the air.

“Garrett,” she said softly. My name on her lips sounded different than it had all night. Intimate. Like a secret.

I set my scotch glass on the small table and found myself moving closer. She didn’t pull away. Instead, her blue eyes searched my face, dropping to my mouth for just a second before meeting my gaze again. That quick glance sent fire shooting through my veins.

“Yeah?” I managed, my voice rougher than I intended.

She was so close now I could smell her shampoo. It smelled like apples. The scent reminded me of summer mornings back home. Her lips parted slightly, and I felt myself leaning in, drawn by an invisible force I couldn’t resist. Her eyes fluttered closed, dark lashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

This was happening. After all these years, all this time apart, something was finally?—

“Where’s the beer, bro?”

Billy’s voice cut through the moment. It felt like ice water had been dumped over our heads.

We both jumped back. I stared at her, trying to decide if I was going to invite her to sleep in my bedroom. But she got up and walked inside before I had a chance.

“Fucking cockblock,” I muttered and followed her inside.