She let out a small sigh. Fine. He wanted to talk? She could talk.
The top of her head reached his shoulder, even in heels, so she was forced to go up on tip-toe until her lips reached his ear. “I’m thinking that you should kiss me again.”
His arms tightened around her and he let out a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. Then his lips were over hers again and they were frantic, urgent.
Her nameless new friend seemed to forget about talking entirely as he scooped her up into his arms the moment the elevator came to a stop. His lips never left hers for long as he carried her down the hall and let them into his place.
Distantly she was impressed by his ability to hold her, kiss her senseless, and still navigate walking and unlocking.
He threw open the door and carried her inside, like some sort of old-fashioned groom carrying his bride over the threshold.
The thought had her giggling as he trailed sweet little kisses over her cheeks and nose.
Then they were inside the apartment and he placed her gently on the couch like she was some breakable piece of china. “Would you like something to drink?”
His voice was so low, so sexy, so…practical.
“Excuse me?” she asked. Her breathing was labored and she looked around to find that she was sitting in the middle of a Pottery Barn catalogue. Neutral colors, everything matching.
Very grown up. Caleb would have hated it.
She shook off the thought, her head spinning as she tried to figure out what he was up to.
The guy before her was hovering. “I have, uh…club soda. Or coffee. I think I might have some tea somewhere…”
“Tea,” she repeated, as if that might help her make sense of the word.
“I could order us some food if you’re hungry,” he continued.
She stared up at him. “You’re not serious.”
His brows drew down in concern as he studied her. “I don’t want to rush you.” He licked his lips. “I don’t want to rush this.”
She had a feeling her blatant confusion was written all over her face. What was he talking about. What this?
“I was the one who suggested we go back to your place,” she reminded him. “You’re not rushing me.”
Those alarm bells. They weren’t just back, they were ringing so loudly she could barely hear his response.
“…I figured we could get to know one another.” He sat beside her.
She scooted away. Get to know each other? What was he talking about? Didn’t he understand what she was offering here?
A mix of emotions had her scowling down at her hands, which were clasped together in her lap. Here in this apartment, she felt wildly out of place. Her clothes were too bright and shiny, her dress too short and clingy. The sofa was big and soft, and with her feet dangling, not even hitting the floor, she felt ridiculously small and…unwanted.
“If you’re not attracted to me, just say so,” she muttered.
“What? Of course I’m attracted to you.” The horror in his voice seemed sincere but she couldn’t bring herself to look up at him. Instead, she toyed with the zipper of her winter coat.
She’d fallen in love with the bright color when she’d spotted it in the thrift store, but here in this uptight apartment all she could think of was Big Bird.
“Look, this was a mistake,” she said, her gaze still down, unable to look up. It had been a long time since she’d felt embarrassed around a guy.
Embarrassed and…vulnerable.
She didn’t like it.
He was watching her. She could feel his gaze like a weight, and she hated it.
“Don’t stand there judging me.”
“I’m not—” He stopped and took an audible inhale. “I would never judge you. I just don’t want us to move too quickly.”
What us? That’s what she wanted to say but it felt too harsh, especially when he was being so nice.
“Do you, um…do you want me to take you back to the party?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Do you want to go home?”
She shook her head again. That urge to cry was back, and it had nothing to do with wine. She’d been dumped by yet another loser, and not even this dweeb wanted her.
“Why don’t I, um…”
She glanced up when he trailed off and felt a rueful smile tug at her lips at the consternation written all over his super serious face.
Poor guy looked utterly bewildered by her.
“How about I put on some water for tea and we can, uh…watch a movie or something.”
She shrugged. Yeah. Sure. Why not? It wasn’t like she wanted to return to that party and explain that she’d just been shot down by a nerd and been dumped via text by a loser.
And going home? Alone? She wrapped her arms around herself, cold to the bone despite the puffy yellow jacket.
“I’ll be back, okay?” he said as he hovered over her.
“Yeah. Okay.”
She tucked her feet up underneath herself and curled up in the corner of the couch. Movie night with a stranger.
Yeah, sure. Why not? It wasn’t like this night could possibly get any worse.
Four
Sneaking out of someone’s apartment in the wee hours of the morning was never a classy affair. But this morning…?
This would surely be the most miserable walk of shame of her life.
Yvette eyed the guy who was stretched out beside her on the couch. She’d woken to find his arm slung over her waist, her chest to his back and her head nestled in the crook of his arm like he was her favorite pillow.
They’d both been fully clothed. Of course they had been. Nothing had happened between them.
Nothing. At. All.
She had a vague memory of leaning her head against his shoulder as the movie started up—some Christmas action movie that he seemed to think was a classic.
Next thing she knew she’d woken up to find…
Ugh. She didn’t even want to think about it. This guy had cuddled her. All night long.
What a weirdo.
No, not weird. Just…nice.
She swallowed a surge of panic as she shifted his arm and moved toward the other edge of the couch.
Snatching her clutch purse from the floor and picking up her glittery shoes, she tiptoed toward the door, casting one quick glance back to make sure he was still asleep.
He was. That stern expression was all softened and sweet. She tilted her head to the side to study him. Rather adorable, really.
Just like his few and fleeting smiles, she’d took a moment to fully absorb that sleepy relaxed expression because she knew with certainty that she was one of few to see it. That much she knew even though she didn’t know some other things about him…like his name, for example.
Another thing she knew? He was one of those rarities in this city. A genuinely nice guy. A freakin’ treasure. He’d make some woman very happy someday.
A twinge of something bittersweet had her looking away quickly. She had to get out of here before he woke.
She cringed as she opened the door, hoping against hope that the hinges didn’t squeak and the door didn’t click too loudly behind her.
Holding her heels in her hand she padded barefoot to his elevator. Once inside she breathed out in relief. She’d gotten away.
From a man she’d just thought of as a treasure.
She shook her head at her own ridiculousness. If only nice guys were her type, she’d be all over him. But, nice guys made her want to bolt, whether it made sense or not, and this guy deserved better than that.
He deserved better than her.
She found herself magnanimously wishing him all the best in life as she gave one last glance up at his apartment building before slipping into a taxi.
She checked the clock on her phone as the taxi made its way to her not-nearly-so-nice neighborhood in Brooklyn. Perfect. She had time to shower, change, and maybe even squeeze in a quick nap before heading back to
Manhattan to meet Kat and Caleb for brunch.
Brunch was sort of their thing. Kat because she was a morning person, Caleb because he had too much energy and wanted to get out and enjoy every waking moment of the weekends, and Yvette because…well, to be honest, it was usually because she was nursing a hangover and a little hair of the dog was the best cure, in her humble opinion.
But today she didn’t have a hangover—yay her! And she was up and ready to go.
Really, by the time she arrived at their favorite brunch spot, she was feeling quite proud of herself, despite the whole sneaking out of a nameless man’s apartment thing.
“Where’s Caleb?” she asked as she sank into the booth across from Kat.
“He bailed,” she said, already sipping on a bloody mary. “Too hungover, apparently.”
Yvette shook her head and made a tsking sound, oddly enjoying the morally superior role since for once she was not the hungover one. Even Kat, who tended to drink very little, had a wan look about her.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asked.
Kat nodded and gave her a grin. “I’ll survive. It was a late night, but I think everyone had fun.”
“Oh totally,” Yvette nodded.
Kat’s eyes narrowed on her. “Speaking of late nights…I lost track of you pretty early on. When did you leave?”
“Umm.” She leaned over and grabbed some bread from the bread basket, pretending to be absorbed in the act of spreading her butter. It wasn’t like Kat would judge—her best friend was notoriously open-minded about… well, pretty much everything. She might be a bit of a mom figure to her and Caleb, but Kat never judged.
Still, having to admit that she ran off with some nameless stranger was not exactly something she felt like bragging about. Especially since the night didn’t even end the way it was supposed to.
She frowned down at her roll. Who ever heard of a one-night-cuddle? Besides, she didn’t want to talk about it because a decidedly icky feeling crept in every time she thought of how she’d snuck out like a cat burglar.
“You met someone, didn’t you?” Kat asked, leaning over the table, her voice filled with way more excitement than was suitable for this hour of the day, bloody mary or no bloody mary.
“I wouldn’t say that,” she hedged.
Kat raised one brow in a knowing look. “But you went home with someone.”
It wasn’t even a question. Ugh, when had she become so predictably slutty? She supposed she’d been that way since they’d first met in college. She’d been recuperating from an epic heartbreak and had learned quickly that the best way to cope was to distract, distract, distract. The guys she’d met were all too willing to help her forget.
It also wasn’t a reach to say that it had become something of a bad pattern, one that she might want to think about altering…but not at this particular moment.
She took a sip of her drink that the waitress set in front of her. Right now she didn’t want to dwell on her actions the previous night, and she really, truly didn’t want to admit to sneaking out of a random guy’s place while he slept.
Some things were just better off being swept under the rug and last night’s antics was one of them.
Besides, she’d come here with a mission. “So, you’d texted yesterday that you might have a solution to my problem?” she said, not so subtly changing the topic.
Kat nodded. “Yeah, I know a guy who can help you. I think he’d be up for it.”
Yvette sat up straighter, excitement making her forget all about the icky feelings she’d been harboring this morning. If she could get this grant, she might just be able to give up her lame side jobs, of which she had many. She might actually get paid to do what she loved. Create. Make art. Not wait tables.
Her sales had started to take off with this last show, thanks in no small part to Kat’s new husband. The fact that he’d bought her biggest, most expensive piece had set a trend. The “sold” sign on the painting for the remainder of the week had seemed to trigger a domino effect. Or maybe she’d finally found a series that appealed to the market as well as her aesthetic.
A girl could hope.
But in order to get this grant, she had to submit a ridiculous amount of paperwork proving how poor she was but that she tried. She had to walk that fine line of making enough money that she was clearly a go-getter, but not too much so she was still deemed poor enough to be a recipient. And while she knew she fell within this tricky little window, proving it was the hard part. Looking at numbers and forms tended to make her eyes cross and her head hurt.
“That was an awfully big sigh,” Kat pointed out.
Yvette sighed again for effect. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Why do they insist on making artists do math for money? I would happily draw these people a picture of my current state of squalor if that’s what it took.”
Kat laughed and reached over to pat her arm. “Don’t worry, Yve. If Darren can’t do it, I’ll find someone else. Or I’ll make Bryce do it. He’s pretty good with finance stuff.”
Yvette snorted into her drink. Pretty good? The man had taken his family’s company and turned it into a mega success. But yeah, sure, she supposed he was pretty good.
Kat made a face as she shoved a bite of salad into her mouth—Kat insisted on ordering salads even though seeing greens at brunch made Yvette inexplicably angry. Everyone knew brunch was for carbs. Lots and lots of carbs.
“I’d offer to help you myself but me and accounting aren’t the best of friends,” she said. “Now, if you wanted me to pitch you and your art to these guys….” She paused to jab two thumbs at her chest, “I’m your gal.”
Yvette rolled her eyes. Everyone knew Kat was an incredible saleswoman—she’d always won the awards for most sales when she worked for others. Now that Kat was running her own business, Yvette had no doubt her friend’s success would continue.
“So when can this guy help me?” she asked. “All the paperwork and financial records are due to the foundation next week.”
Kat winced. “I haven’t actually asked him yet….”
She bit back a groan. Great, her savior didn’t even know he was being offered up.
“But I’ll ask him later today, I promise.”
At Yvette’s frown, Kat straightened. “Hey, it’s not my fault you put this off until the last minute.”
This was true.
“Besides, I’d planned on introducing you two at the party last night so you could talk to him about it yourself,” Kat said, reaching for her drink. “But somebody disappeared.”
Kat’s brows inched up as she took a sip of her drink and Yvette couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s persistence. Still, she kept mum, shoving another roll into her mouth instead of answering.
“Oh, come on, just tell me his name,” Kat pleaded.
Uh, yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to happen. She’d have to know his name first… She munched on her roll, enjoying Kat’s rapidly growing frustration at not knowing. Kat hated when she and Caleb held out on her.
“Please, please, please.” Kat clasped her hands together as if in prayer.
“You wouldn’t know him,” she said.
Kat fell back in her seat with a thud. “If he was at my party, I’d know him. I sent the invites, remember?”
Yvette narrowed her eyes. “Touché.”
A silence fell between them. “You’re really not going to tell me, are you?”
Yvette shook her head, giving in to the laugh that had been bubbling up in the silence. “Nope.”
Kat looked so crestfallen, she felt obligated to make her feel better. Patting her arm like Kat had done to her, she said, “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s not like it was anything serious.” With a wistful sigh that held just a bit of unexpected sadness, she told her the truth. “I’m never going to see him again.”
Five
Darren gripped the bouquet of flowers as he stood outside the studio space address that Kat had given him the day before.
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He ordered his palms to stop sweating.
They did not listen.
His heart was racing as he drew in a deep breath and tried to figure out what to say.
‘Hello’ was probably a safe start.
Followed by a ‘how are you?’ most likely. Then perhaps he could ask what he’d said or done that had made her flee his apartment in the middle of the night.
Unless maybe that question would scare her away again?
He stared at the metal door as if it might have the answers.
Maybe he should have asked Kat yesterday when she’d called. He’d thought maybe she was calling to ream him out. He’d been sitting there in his apartment replaying everything that had happened the night before and trying desperately to figure out what had gone wrong. And then Kat’s name popped up on his phone. He’d had the horrible idea that Yvette had gone running to Kat and that Kat was calling on her behalf because…what? He’d taken advantage of her? He’d rushed her?
But she hadn’t seemed intoxicated and she’d insisted they weren’t rushing…
Maybe he ought to have woken her up when she’d fallen asleep on him, but she’d looked so peaceful. So sweet. And he’d figured maybe they’d try the whole talking thing in the morning since he’d obviously botched it that night.
He still wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.
And Kat hadn’t given him any clues. In fact, he wasn’t even sure she knew that he’d gone home with her best friend, so he’d done what he did best and kept his mouth shut. If Yvette hadn’t told her friend then he wouldn’t either.
But was it just coincident then that Kat reached out asking for his help with Yvette’s finances…or had Yvette asked Kat to reach out to him?
The latter was what had his heart doing a crazy jig, running away at a rapid rate as though he’d just downed several large pots of coffee.
But he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to talk to her, figure out what had happened, what he could do to make things right.
He straightened as he finally rang the buzzer.
Once they’d worked through whatever he’d done wrong, he’d ask her out. For real. On a proper date, like she deserved.
Once Upon an Earnest Nerd (Instalove in the City Book 2) Page 3