23
I’VE BEEN COCKBLOCKED
Olivia
IS GETTING WINE DRUNK AT lunchtime frowned upon? Because it would make being on the other end of Carter Beckett’s undivided attention a hundred times less intimidating.
Honestly, I don’t know if he’s watching every bite of food I put in my mouth because he’s waiting for me to let him nish it, or because he genuinely can’t take his eyes o me. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s a mix of both.
“Uh, excuse me.”
Carter’s eyes ick up at the interruption, a group of college boys hovering by
our little corner booth.
“Can we get a picture?”
This is the fourth group to ask. Carter’s response has been the same every time.
“I’m having lunch with my girl right now, so I’ll catch you on the way out.”
The my girl comment does the same thing it’s done every other time: kisses my cheeks, wraps around my neck, and tumbles down my spine, settling like a heavy weight at the cleft of my thighs.
And Carter does what he’s done every other time: watches me with the proudest grin, making me squirm, and murmurs, “Huh. Wonder what that blush is for.”
This time, when I roll my eyes, he chuckles and aims his brows at my plate.
“You gonna nish that?”
“And here I thought you were watching me eat because you couldn’t get enough of me.” I sigh, pushing my plate across the table.
“Oh, that’s absolutely why. You’re the rst thing I’ve been hyperxated on since I discovered hockey.” His hand slips below the table, ngertips dancing up my thigh. I’m riveted, focused on the movement while he carries on talking like he isn’t lighting my nerve endings on re with a simple touch. “Been xated on the way these thighs fell open for me, eager to let me taste you. On the way they shook when you came all over my face.”
My heartbeat races as his ngers drift higher, and when he glides them over the seam of my leggings, right over my clit, I ball my napkin in my st.
“Fixated on the way this pretty pussy squeezed my cock so good, like it never wanted to let go. Fixated on the way your mouth opened when you came, the way you cried out for God.” He strokes me rmly, until my belly clenches and my thoughts vanish. And then he pulls his hand back, diving into my food, leaving me wanting and furious. “Thanks for sharing, Ollie.”
I somehow manage to give him the cold shoulder for the rest of our meal, incredibly proud of myself when we step outside, even if I am going to have to resort to my battery-powered boyfriend when I get home.
Carter catches my hand, spins me into him, and dips me. “I’m sorry I teased you, Ollie girl. Please forgive me.” His words dissolve on my tongue like sugar, and I hang on to him for dear life, because if he’s been xated on me, I’ve been
xated on him too.
“Olivia!”
My eyes ip open as Carter hoists me back up, sweeping me behind his back
as several cameras invade our space.
“Carter! Is Olivia your girlfriend?”
“Are you ocially o the market, Mr. Beckett?”
“What’s your last name, sweetheart?”
“Fuck o,” Carter growls. “You don’t get her last name. You don’t get shit.”
His ngers lace harshly through mine as he tugs me into his side and down the street, my face aimed at the ground.
I trip over the curb when I scramble toward his car, and he catches me before I can face-plant on the asphalt. My feet don’t touch the ground as he hauls me
toward the passenger side, stung me inside.
Carter is in the front seat and has us around the corner before I can count to ve. He pulls over down the street, pulling my mitts o my hands and bringing my knuckles to his lips.
“I’m so sorry. Somebody must’ve posted a picture at the restaurant.” He takes my face between his hands, looking me over as if I might be injured. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I don’t…” I don’t know how to say it without hurting his feelings.
“You don’t want to be a girl in pictures with Carter Beckett.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Ollie. But it will happen, as long as we’re together. There’s a bright side to it all, though. Now there’s photographic evidence that I’m dating the world’s hottest teacher.”
I snort a laugh, only because he seems so sincere.
“It’ll get old quick, I promise. I can see it now.” He swipes a hand through the air in an arc. “‘Carter Beckett, seen for the tenth night in a row with hot-as- hell high school teacher.’” He squeezes my hands. “Trust me, princess, it’ll get boring fast.”
My nose scrunches. “I’m not a princess.”
He pulls into trac, winking at me. “You’re my princess.”
I roll my eyes to distract from the fact that I might like the ridiculous nickname. “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” It’s my not-so-subtle way of asking if our date is over, but before he can answer, the car speaker rings, Hank calling lighting up the dashboard.
Carter’s brow furrows before he accepts. “Hank? What’s up, buddy? Miss me already?”
“Carter.” Poor Hank sounds distressed. “You still on your date?”
“Just heading to our second destination.” Carter ashes me a devilish smile and winks again. “What’s going on? You okay?”
Hank sighs. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Hi, Olivia.”
“Hi, Hank,” I push out after a moment of stunned silence. He knows my name.
“Carter, I took a little tumble getting out of the shower.”
“Shit.” Carter looks over his shoulder, hits his blinker, and turns left from the right-hand lane. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing serious but I’m having some trouble getting up on my own.
Could you maybe—”
“We’ll be there in ten.”
We get there in seven because Carter drives a shit ton on the erratic side. He enters the ve-story apartment building with a key, and once we ride the elevator up to the top oor, he uses another key to enter the suite.
“Hank?” Carter storms through the small apartment. I follow him, crashing into his back when he comes to a sudden stop. “Are you fucking kidding me, old man?”
A man—Hank, I presume—with a full head of uy white hair and weathered blue eyes grins up at us from where he appears to be entirely too relaxed, a whole lot amused, and awfully proud in his easy chair, the cutest dog I’ve ever seen curled up at his side.
“Tricked ya. You’re too damn gullible.” Hank carefully climbs to his feet, his golden retriever following. He grasps a long stick in one hand, holding the other out toward Carter, who takes it in his own, but not before giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. It’s at this moment I realize Hank has a visual impairment.
“Wanted to meet the beautiful Miss Olivia before you have a chance to mess it all up and scare her away.”
“Your condence in me is inspiring.” Carter rolls his eyes, leading Hank over to me. “I hoped to hold o on introducing you to him, Ollie, Hank likes to do whatever the hell he wants.”
I arch a brow. “Like someone else I know.”
“Ha! I like her already!” Hank elbows Carter’s hands away and reaches forward. I slip my hands into his and he squeezes. “I had to meet the girl who’s made my friend here a miserable dud for a few weeks while she kept him on his toes, made him work for it.”
“I’m happy to meet you, Hank. This has turned into the best date I’ve ever had.” The dog at his feet whines, begging me for attention. “May I pet your dog, or is he working?”
Hank waves me o. “Dublin’s never really working. Laziest guide dog you’ve ever met. Go ahead, Dubs. Get your kisses.”
Dublin drops to my feet, rolling around, and I sink to my butt so I can give
him all the loving.
“Dublin? Like Ireland?”
“Yeah,” Hank says with a wistful smile. “Reminds me of my sweetheart.”
Carter hands me a frame with a black-and-white wedding picture. The bride and groom couldn’t be more in love, that much is obvious by the way they’re laughing. He plops another photo in my lap, this one colored. I recognize Hank’s face, his uy hair, though it was light brown back then.
Carter taps on the beautiful redhead tucked into Hank’s side in the photograph. “This is Hank’s high school sweetheart.”
“Ireland?”
Hank nods proudly, eyes misty. “Beautiful, ain’t she? She saved my life.”
“And mine.” Carter’s hands are in his pocket as he toes at the oor with his shoe. He gives me a sheepish smile, one I’m not used to seeing, and I hope one day he’ll feel safe enough to share his story with me.
I trail a ngertip down Ireland’s long, ginger waves. “She’s got the most gorgeous smile.”
“I remember the exact shape of her lips, and the tiny dimple she had just o to the right of her mouth.” He touches the spot on his own face, then claps his hands. “Can I feel your face, Olivia?”
“No, no, no.” Carter shakes his head. “Don’t fall for it, Ollie. I did, and when he was done, he told me it was all bullshit. Just wanted to see how gullible I was, which, as it turns out, is very.”
“You’re no fun,” Hank grumbles as Carter helps me o the ground, and then directs Hank down beside me on the couch. “I already know you’re ve foot one, have tiny freckles on your nose, eyes the color of chocolate, and hands that t perfectly in Carter’s, always warm.”
Carter’s cheeks burn bright. He’s so cute it hurts.
Hank’s ngers nd my braid, twirling the end of it. He twists to Carter.
“What color? Describe it to me.”
Carter’s green eyes glitter as he drinks me in. “Dark brown, like rich, smooth coee. The kind that wakes you the hell up, that you crave in the morning and all day long.” His gaze drifts to a curl that brushes my cheek, before lingering on my lips. “With a little bit of caramel drizzle that leaves you licking your lips, begging for another taste.”
Oh crap. I’m horny. My lady bits are buzzing.
Hank lays my braid back over my shoulder. “Smells like banana bread.”
“Right?” Carter throws his arms out. “Thank you!”
“Well, can you squeeze some time with this old man into your date? I made snacks.” He gestures to the coee table where a bowl of Doritos and a platter of Oreos sit. I like Hank.
Carter checks his watch. “Well, we’re already too late to make the movie.”
“Movie? We watched it on Friday.”
The grin he wears has my heat crawling up my neck. “Trust me, gorgeous; we weren’t gonna watch it this time.”
“A-ha!” Hank claps a hand to Carter’s knee. “That’s my boy!” He throws his arms around our shoulders. “Guess you’re stuck with me this afternoon. I’ve never been a cockblock until now.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Carter mumbles, but— “Hang on.” I lift the tablet o the coee table, and as I ip through the books in Hank’s audio library, I wonder if I’ve just found my new best friend.
“Hank,” I murmur, turning to him.
“Oh no,” Carter whispers, eyes icking to the tablet.
“What is it?” Hank asks, head moving between us.
Carter swallows. “Olivia just found your smut collection.”
