Keep Me If You Can (If You Can #3)

14. Sniff, Sip, Shoot

Chapter fourteen

Sniff, Sip, Shoot

“T he bartender said this is the one they’re putting on the tables,” JP said, putting a glass of wine in front of me.

I swirled the glass twice and lifted it to my nose before taking a small sip.

And oh, God . I almost wanted to cry.

Not because it was tear-inducingly good. And surprisingly, not because I had the realization that I’d somehow become enough of a wine snob to recognize how fucking good it was. Like, I wasn’t even twenty-two. I was supposed to be sticking straws into a four-liter box of wine and drinking it like a juice box, not appreciating the burst of tannins and hint of citrus.

No, I wanted to cry because I knew what I was about to do.

“He said it’s a Barbaresco with rich notes of red fruits and a complex layering of aromas,” JP continued. “And a lingering finish with—”

He cut himself off as I knocked back the rest of the wine in a single gulp and set the glass on the cocktail table we were standing at.

“I may be a bit rusty, but I don’t think I’ve ever been to a wine tasting where they suggested shooting a glass of wine,” he said after a moment.

“Obviously you’re going to the wrong wine tastings,” I said. “It’s all the rage these days. Sniff, sip, shoot. Really brings out the… you know.” I gestured vaguely. “Oakiness.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter. “Pretty sure it’s unoaked.”

“Pretty sure you’re full of shit. Barbaresco wines are required to be oaked by the DOCG. For nine months minimum.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“The Italian wine connoisseur my dad hired to make me sound smart about this shit made a comment about nine months being the magic number to develop human brains and excellent wine. I’m never going to forget that.”

JP tilted his head in concession. “You got me. Want me to ask for another? It’s still on Louie’s tab.”

I did want him to get me another one. I wanted another, and another, and enough to make me throw up on the side of the road on the way back to Ottawa in the hopes that the echo of JP’s voice saying the L word would spew out with it.

Because yes, he had been joking.

Yes, it had made me—and everyone else in the room—laugh.

Yes, I was slightly annoyed that he won the bottle of wine even though he said I could keep it because he didn’t drink wine that often.

But somewhere deep down, part of me had latched onto the words, even though we both knew they weren’t real.

And I couldn’t say why.

But instead of telling JP that yes, he should go get me another, and by another I meant he should grab the bottle and a straw if they had any tall enough, I shook my head.

“I need to be sober enough to make your sorry ass look good for once in your life,” I said.

He frowned. “What?”

I shot him an unimpressed look. “The client.”

“The client?” he repeated.

“Yes, the client,” I said. “The client you want to impress? That client? You know, the whole reason I’m here?”

An amused dimple appeared on his cheek. “And here I thought you were here for my boyish charm and massive co—”

“Trust me, if your dick was as massive as your ego, I wouldn’t have any complaints,” I interrupted.

Instead of letting my jab bruise said ego, JP grinned and put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me and using the guise of pressing a kiss to the side of my head to whisper in my ear.

“Pretty sure you don’t have any complaints about my dick,” he murmured. “Considering you just told an entire room full of people about it.”

“I implied to a room full of people that you had the biggest dick of all your friends, and considering I don’t know any of your friends, that’s saying literally nothing.”

“Yeah, but you’ve done such a good job convincing everyone we’re a couple that they’ll naturally assume you know all my friends, so…” He chuckled as I elbowed him away from me. “And anyway, I thought you forgot about the client thing.”

“Why would I forget the literal reason for me being here?”

“I mean, you did get up on a stage to play a game where we were assholes to each other and then implied I have a huge dick.”

Oh.

Right.

My face burned and I glared. Not at him, because it felt like the ropes of guilt and embarrassment knotting together in my stomach had wrapped around my neck so I couldn’t turn my eyes towards him, but I glared all the same.

I was such an idiot sometimes.

I hadn’t even thought of that. Now it was way, way, way too late. This whole thing had started because JP’s client was apparently somewhat traditional and focused on appearances. Which meant that client was probably similar to the type of person my dad was, and that type of person would not find what we did funny in any way.

I was supposed to make JP look good. And instead, I’d told everyone he had a big dick and Little League trophies decorating his bedroom.

Maybe that was why he hadn’t bothered saying anything. I’d probably already cost him the client.

I fucked it up.

And God, it felt bad enough when I fucked things up for my dad. I didn’t even like him. To fuck things up for JP, who I… you know. Tolerated. More than tolerated, even.

Fuck.

Fuck .

“Stop,” JP said.

“Stop what?” I asked.

“Blaming yourself.”

I frowned, then glanced at him. He was studying me, the smirking asshole gone and replaced by someone with a soft smile on his lips. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Nell.” He tilted his head, playfully patronizing. “Even if there was something for you to feel bad about, I got right up there with you. I had a ton of opportunities to say we shouldn’t do that. I said stuff that was just as—no.” He shook a finger at me. “I said stuff that was worse than you did, considering I won. You don’t think I either figured it was worth it or that maybe the client left already?”

I dug my fingernail into the side of my thumb. “How did you—”

“It doesn’t take a genius to see where your mind went.”

“Clearly, since you figured it out.”

“There she is.” He grinned. “Sometimes I’m not as stupid as you look.”

“That’s a stretch. You’re pretty—hey!” He cackled as I figured out what he said and smacked his arm lightly. “You’re a bastard.”

“So I’ve heard.”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe you made me skip a day of classes, dragged me out here, and then didn’t even introduce me to your client.”

“Oh, I did.”

I looked up at him. “What?”

The corner of JP’s mouth twitched. “I introduced you earlier.”

All I could do was stare at him for a moment. “I must look pretty damn stupid, because you’re an idiot.”

He burst out laughing. “The personal development exercise is over, babe.”

“You introduced me to your client and didn’t even warn me who they were?!” I tried to keep my voice down, but the urge to blow up was making my hands shake. “What if I’d said something wrong?”

“So?” he asked.

“So?!” I nearly threw my hands up in the air. “You brought me here to make you look good, JP. How am I supposed to do that when I don’t even know who I’m supposed to impress?”

“Do you think people aren’t impressed by you unless you fake it?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to respond. Normally, even if I didn’t think I had a response figured out, something came out.

But not this time.

I didn’t go to shit like this for me. I was there to be the perfect daughter. The perfect girlfriend. The perfect person to make someone else look good. I was supposed to laugh at people’s jokes and talk about appropriate things and sip my wine politely.

I wasn’t supposed to sniff, sip, shoot.

But I had. And JP had just played along.

“Babe,” he said, his voice soft. “It doesn’t matter who you were here to meet. I brought you because I needed a fake girlfriend . Not a fake girlfriend.”

“But—”

“But nothing. I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I wanted some Stepford-esque robot giving canned responses.” His eyes flicked down for a moment. “You’re more impressive as yourself.”

My throat felt dry and I silently wished I hadn’t shot all my wine. “Okay.”

“You don’t believe me,” he said.

“What if I let you down?” I asked.

“Then I’d get down there with you.” He shrugged. “You can’t let someone down if you’re on the same level.”

And he…

He couldn’t say that.

He couldn’t say that.

That wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t who I should be to him. I shouldn’t have been the person standing there, locked under his gaze, my heart thumping in the base of my throat and sending something coursing through me.

Something warm, so warm it made my palms sweat.

Something heavy, so heavy it weighted my feet to the floor.

Something terrifying.

“Nell—” JP started.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

He blinked. “What?”

“Don’t… you… do that.” I blinked too, like my eyelids were knives that could shear through the look he’d been giving me. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

My chin trembled.

I wasn’t ready.

“This,” I said.

I wasn’t sure that either of us knew what “this” was. But JP looked at me for a moment longer, then nodded. Lifting his hand to my cheek, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss was so warm, so scorching hot, that whatever warm thing had been coursing through me was overtaken, overshadowed, overflowing into that place deep in my core until I was leaning into that kiss like I was addicted to fire.

“We should probably leave,” JP said, pulling back and clearing his throat. “I’ve still got a long drive home.”

“Aren’t you staying with me?” I asked.

He flicked an eyebrow up. “Am I invited?”

And I…

I probably shouldn’t have shot that wine.

“Yes.”