by R. J. Groves
Joey lifted an eyebrow, considering him. Then, because he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and he wasn’t trying to get on anyone’s bad side, Tay smiled, hoping it would lighten the mood.
‘Well, I’m glad I didn’t scare you off,’ Joey said, standing upright when the bartender brought over two beers for him. He paid the bartender and shifted the beers towards Tay, craning his neck over the crowd. ‘Andie’s in the corner behind me,’ he said, his tone low. Almost serious. ‘Would you mind taking these over to her? I’ve just seen some of my mates come in.’
Before Tay could say anything, Joey disappeared into the crowd, leaving the drinks on the bar. He swore under his breath, feeling the suspicion rising. And judging by the look on Andie’s face when she saw him coming towards her, he had every right to be suspicious.
She didn’t know he was coming.
‘Taylor,’ she said, her pitch higher than usual. ‘Wh—what are you doing here?’ Her eyes were wide, and her question only confirmed what he thought.
He nudged her over in the booth and sat next to her, sliding a beer towards her and turning the other in his hand. Well, if Joey was going to play this game, he’d have to get over Tay drinking his beer.
‘You do know this isn’t the best place for a pretty lady to be alone, don’t you?’ he said, sipping the beer. He pulled a face. He’d never been much of a beer guy. He’d tolerate it, sure. But if he had a choice, bourbon always won.
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m not alone. Joey’s here.’
He nodded. ‘Mm-hmm. I did see Joey. Said he wanted to catch up with some friends or something. Wanted me to bring you your drink.’
She sighed, sinking back into the seat. ‘And here I was thinking he just wanted to spend time with me.’ She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘He’s barely been back a day, and he already wants to hang out with his friends.’
‘Is he back for long? Maybe he doesn’t have much time.’
She shrugged, biting into her lip, making it pale. He wanted to smooth his thumb over her lips, stop her from chewing on them. Chew on them himself …
‘He hasn’t said how long,’ she said with another sigh. ‘Still … It’s been months since I’ve seen him. Weeks since we’ve had a chance to talk. He’s in the navy, you know. I was worried something had happened.’
He studied the disappointment on her face. God, she hadn’t been losing weight because of him. She’d been losing weight because of Joey. He resisted the urge to smile at his foolishness. That explained a lot, really. Her mood, her lack of appetite. It all had nothing to do with him. He sipped his beer to stop himself from saying something stupid. She shifted in her seat, studying him, her brow creased. God, he wanted to smooth out that crease.
‘You never said why you’re here,’ she said slowly. ‘Another meeting?’
‘Of sorts,’ he said, scanning the room. Still no sign of Joey.
‘With whom?’
‘You.’
‘Me?’ she scoffed. ‘How did you even know I was going to be here?’
So, it was Joey’s doing. He carried on as though he didn’t know. ‘Because you asked me to meet you for drinks.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ she said, her eyes wide, her voice shrill.
He pulled his phone out and opened it to the messages he’d received from her. He handed it over and waited while she read, her brow forming a deeper crease. Finally, she lifted her gaze to the crowd around them and handed the phone back to him.
‘I didn’t send those messages.’
He frowned. ‘You don’t remember sending them?’
She looked at him, lifting her drink to her lips. ‘I don’t remember, because I didn’t send them. I don’t—’ She paused with the glass almost to her lips and squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Joey,’ she whispered. He felt his lips pull into a smile. ‘Joey must have sent it. I really—’ She paused once more, glancing at him. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. ‘You knew?’
He laughed. ‘I suspected.’
She whacked him on the arm, her hand lingering against his shoulder. ‘And when did you first suspect?’
He shrugged his left shoulder, careful not to move his right in case she moved her hand. Her touch was … nice. And he wasn’t ready to lose that contact again. ‘I thought it was odd that you’d want to see me while your brother was home. But who was I to argue?’
She narrowed her eyes in a frown, but her lips were curved in a smile. ‘And then?’
He squinted, as if thinking about it. ‘When I saw Joey at the bar, and he left me to bring the drinks to you.’ He gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing against her cheek. Her skin was soft, smooth. Warm. ‘And I saw the look on your face when you saw me.’
She lifted her chin in a challenge, her eyes blinking slowly, the tip of her fringe covering one eye. ‘And what look would that be?’
***
God, his touch felt amazing. It was either the beer she’d had, or his touch was just as good as it had been before—if not better. He studied her eyes, her nose. Her lips. Suddenly, her lips felt dry, so she slid her tongue along them and bit into her bottom lip. His expression seemed pained. As if he was holding back.
And she found herself wishing he didn’t. Whatever it was that he was holding back, she wanted it. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. And for a very brief moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. God, she wished he would.
Since their almost-kiss, she’d been aching for his lips on hers. Aching for more of him. And Joey’s apparent approval of him didn’t help her in holding herself back.
He lifted his gaze to her forehead, lifted his hand from her cheek and brushed her fringe to the side, his fingertips leaving a trail of fire along her skin that shot straight to her core. How could a simple touch be so sensational? She shifted to face him better, though she couldn’t remember telling herself to move. It was as though she was frozen in place. Waiting. Wanting.
‘Surprised,’ he said.
She had to search her brain to remember what they were talking about. Her look when she came in. Right. His lips tugged high to one side and she felt her insides melting. How could he make her feel that way? She didn’t even realise it was possible. Joseph had certainly never had that effect on her. Not like this.
‘Almost like you didn’t want to see me.’
He tilted his head to the side, the light catching on his stubble, and she fought the urge to touch it. She’d never felt an urge to touch a guy’s facial hair before. But his looked soft, velvety. And she wanted to see if it felt the same as it looked. Her phone was still in her hand. She’d been looking at it just before she saw him walking towards her. Looking to see if he’d called. Or messaged. A simple emoji would have sufficed. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even seen those messages he mentioned on her phone. Obviously, Joey had sent them. And clearly, he’d deleted them from her phone. She didn’t know if she should be mad at Joey for setting them up or thankful. Sly, mischievous boy.
‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ she said, trying to find her words.
Taylor’s hand slid down to cup her cheek, his thumb gliding slowly across the top of her lip. His lips pulled higher into a perfect toothy grin, his gaze connecting with hers. It took her breath away. The bluish tinge in his eyes was so clear now. The grey around the edges soft, calming. There was nothing hard about him. Her thoughts drifted. Well, nothing hard about his eyes.
‘Did you want to see me?’ His hand tensed against her cheek. She’d already pressed against it before she realised what she was doing.
How could she answer that? She couldn’t exactly tell him that she was practically dying to know when she might see him next. Considering they’d gone three long weeks of no contact before, the thought that he might not have batted an eyelid about spending so long without seeing her again slowly tore at her chest.
But here he was.
In a run-down, poor-person’s bar. There for
drinks with her. Having answered the messages that Joey had sent. For her. When she’d seen him the day before. Hell, those twenty-four hours had been so painful, wondering when she might see him next. When they’d get another chance to pick up where they left off. If they’d get another chance. And wondering if those past twenty-four hours had been as agonising for him as they had for her. And now…
Now, he was here.
With her.
She didn’t know what that meant, exactly. But she also didn’t want to look too far into it. If she did, she’d over-think it. And if that happened, well, she would only be setting herself up for disappointment.
‘Andrea Gray,’ he said, his voice low, prompting.
‘Hmm?’ she hummed, blinking up at him, her breaths quickening.
She couldn’t open herself up to him, could she? She’d get hurt. She knew she would. But Taylor was … well … irresistible. His touch. The way he looked at her, made her feel. The way her name sounded on his lips. No, she was already too far gone. Perhaps the question she should be asking was how she was going to stop herself from getting hurt. And if it happened, would it be worth it?
Would he be worth it?
‘Are you disappointed to see me?’ he said, leaning in a little closer.
She swallowed. She couldn’t tell what would happen in the future. She didn’t even know what would happen tomorrow. But in the here, and the now … Well, right now, she didn’t really care what the future held, as long as she got to enjoy this moment. Then perhaps she might not regret what happened next.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.
He took a moment to process her words. Then, as his lips parted, and he looked as though he was about to close the distance between them, her phone pinged in her hand. His eyebrow lifted, and she bit into her lip, hoping he wouldn’t look down. Hoping he wouldn’t break eye contact, and desperately hoping that it hadn’t ruined the moment. Then the bloody thing pinged again. He smiled. Her hairs stood on end and she felt the weight sink to her stomach when his gaze dropped to the stupid phone. Oh, the things she could say to whomever was messaging her.
‘You should check that,’ he said, dropping his hand from her face.
She shifted in her seat and let out a shaky sigh. Perhaps it was for the best. Why else would their almost-kiss be interrupted again? Perhaps they should take it as a sign that nothing should happen between them. Sure, they’d kissed once before. But she’d been surprised. And she hadn’t considered slapping him as a common prelude to a kiss.
Maybe fate wasn’t on their side.
And she should be okay with that. Especially since she’d known from the start that they weren’t suited to each other. Though she was struggling to remember why that was so. Joey had confirmed it—Taylor Ballin was no Joseph.
But she still didn’t know him. Not really. She knew very little that couldn’t be scratched from the surface. And what could be seen from the surface was scarce in itself. He shifted beside her, putting some distance between them. Maybe he was thinking the same thing. She fought the burning at the back of her eyes as she glanced down at the phone that she’d rather throw at the wall and found Joey’s name standing out at her. She opened the messages.
Gone home.
Gone home? Oh, he really had ditched her. And no doubt he’d taken his car with him, too. She read on.
Have fun!
She frowned at the phone. So, he’d not only ditched her, he’d also basically confessed to having set up their little meeting. Well … whatever it was that he was hoping would happen between her and Taylor Ballin clearly wasn’t going to happen. She huffed and shot back a snarky reply, to which he replied with a winking emoji. If she hadn’t been so worried about him for the past few weeks or missed him so much while he was gone, she might have been even madder at him. For now, she’d have to settle with just being annoyed.
She sighed, shoving the phone in her handbag in an attempt to ease the annoyance.
‘Everything okay?’
She glanced up at the man sitting next to her, who suddenly seemed much bigger than she thought. Or perhaps she was just feeling smaller. ‘Joey’s gone home,’ she muttered, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in her seat. ‘It seems he had some ideas about where this could go.’
Taylor muttered something that she was sure sounded like he’d hate to disappoint Joey, but she didn’t quite catch it, since he’d stifled his comment with a sip of his beer.
‘What was that?’ she said.
‘I suppose you’re still without a car.’
She quirked an eyebrow. ‘Yes.’
He smiled mischievously, though he wasn’t looking at her. He was scanning the room around them but leaned a little closer towards her. Her stomach flipped at his closeness and she mentally told herself to behave.
‘Do you want to get out of here?’
Her pulse leapt, and she scolded herself again. ‘Where would we go?’
He shrugged indifferently. ‘Two options,’ he said, finishing off his beer. ‘Either I drop you back home so you can yell at your brother’—he turned to face her, and her breath caught in her throat—‘or I can take you somewhere with proper drinks, where it doesn’t feel like we’re going to be stabbed.’
He held her gaze with a look so intense she felt even smaller. Smaller, but not insignificant. No, there was something in the way he looked at her that made her feel … well … feel. She couldn’t say exactly what it was that she felt around him. She wouldn’t be able to find the words to describe it even if she tried. All she knew was that she felt something. Something she hadn’t felt before. And she was both terrified, and craving more of it.
She opened her mouth to say something. A witty remark, perhaps, as to what would happen if she chose to go somewhere else with him. Or even where they would go, exactly. His description seemed to narrow it down to higher-class bars. But then, she wasn’t dressed to go anywhere fancy. Jeans and a neat shirt wouldn’t get her into a fancy bar where women wore short cocktail dresses and heels that were so high and thin that it was a wonder they didn’t fall through the floor.
‘I’m not dressed to go out,’ she blurted, wishing it hadn’t sounded so desperate and whiny. Her hands dropped to her lap in desperation.
His smile widened. ‘You might be overdressed for where I want to take you,’ he said, his eyebrow lifting. ‘Does that mean you choose the latter?’
She twisted her hands together until it felt like her fingers might rip off. What did it mean? She was sure Joey would be at home when she got back—whenever that may be. And he would tease her relentlessly if she bailed on this sneaky set-up so soon. Taylor’s words played through her mind again.
Does that mean you choose the latter? She bit into her lip.
Did it?
Chapter 21
‘This isn’t a fancy high-class bar.’
Tay dropped his keys and wallet in the dish on the kitchen bench and shrugged off his jacket. ‘I didn’t say we were going to a bar.’
‘It’s what you implied.’
Andie stepped past him, her arms folded over her chest, studying the crisp apartment he lived in. He draped his jacket over the back of a chair and pulled his tie from his pocket, smoothing it over the jacket. Then he set to the slow task of rolling his sleeves up.
‘I said there were proper drinks and no fear of being stabbed,’ he said, his gaze following her. Her hair was woven in a neat plait that ended between her shoulder blades. He ached to loosen it and run his fingers through it. ‘I said nothing about a bar.’
She glanced back at him over her shoulder, a sweet smile on her lips. ‘I assumed.’ Then she focused back on his place of residence. ‘You don’t have much stuff.’
‘Don’t need it,’ he said, finishing one sleeve and swapping to the other.
She turned to face him. ‘Everyone has stuff. So, where’s yours?’
He shrugged, smiling at her investiga
tion, and spread his hands out. ‘This is it.’
‘So, you’re telling me that you live here. What do you do in your spare time?’
He could think of a few things. ‘I don’t get spare time, Andie. I work, I come home, and I eat, shower and sleep. That’s all I use this for.’
She shook her head slowly. ‘Well, that’s a sad existence.’
He held back a laugh. ‘Maybe it is. But what else would I do?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, pursing her lips. ‘Read? Watch movies?’ She scanned the room as if looking for something.
‘I do have a television.’
She frowned. ‘I don’t see one.’ Then, she gasped, her eyes widening. ‘Don’t tell me you have one of those fancy ones like in the movies that are all voice-operated and hidden until called upon?’
He shook his head in amazement. Who did she think he was? ‘You have a wild imagination.’
‘Well, do you?’ she said impatiently.
‘I do not,’ he said, finishing off his sleeve. ‘I have a thirty-two-inch mounted on the wall in my bedroom.’ To help him get to sleep.
Her eyebrow shot up. ‘Your bedroom? And what if you have someone over who wants to watch it?’
He shrugged lazily and moved towards his liquor cabinet. He held up the bottle of bourbon. ‘Drink?’
She grimaced, letting her arms drop to her side to touch the top of his couch. ‘No, thank you. I don’t drink spirits.’
He replaced the bottle and closed the cabinet. If she wasn’t having any, he wouldn’t either. Simple. ‘Don’t like them?’ He moved towards the kitchen and put the kettle on.
‘Migraines,’ she said, dropping her gaze. ‘I’ll have a beer, or wine, if you have any.’
This time, he grimaced. ‘I refuse to stock either.’ Ever since it had gotten him in trouble. ‘I only drink bourbon if I can help it. Beer if there’s nothing else.’
He reached into the cupboard above the kettle and pulled a tub of chocolate powder out and held it towards her, lifting an eyebrow as if trying to tempt her. Her smile grew, and it made his breath catch. How could a smile be so brilliant?