#1 Love

by T Gephart

  “Well, if this law gig doesn’t work out for me, I’ll go into advertising.” He gazed down at me with amusement.

  And I gazed back because, gee he was mighty fine to look at.

  My stomach picked that exact moment to remind not only me, but possibly the surrounding neighborhood, that it hadn’t been fed since earlier in the day. The primal growl echoed in the silence as my eyes widened. Oh Jesus, I wasn’t sure if I was just hungry or I’d drunk so much wine I’d swallowed a freaking bobcat and not noticed.

  He laughed, breaking the silence as he glanced down at his watch. “Shit, Maya, it’s nine and I haven’t even offered you dinner. Sorry, let me order something before your stomach goes on a rampage and terrorizes the neighborhood.”

  If it were any other hot guy, I would have probably been mortified, but with Alex, it just didn’t seem so bad. “Well to be fair, I’m still on East Coast time and it is probably closer to breakfast now.” I laughed, only the slightest bit embarrassed.

  “So am I ordering you pancakes or pizza?” He slid the phone out from his pocket. “We need to do something quick, a family with two small children just moved in next door. Wouldn’t want to put anyone in danger.”

  “Pizza, you ass.” I elbowed him teasingly. It wasn’t just my hunger making itself known, the wine also reminding me that it was sitting front and center. “And make sure it has extra—”

  “Cheese.” He nodded as he dialed. “Yep, I remember.”

  He stood, walking towards the kitchen as he rattled off an order and took the empty bottle of wine with him. And while he was busy getting us food, I decided it was a good opportunity to find a bathroom. All that wine, it had to go somewhere, and at the moment, that somewhere was heading south.

  Asking for directions would have been smart, but as I stood with the confidence of Bordeaux’s finest pulsing through my veins, I decided I didn’t need his help. It was a bathroom, not a pot of gold, and I could find it all on my own.

  I giggled as I ventured down the hall, opening a door and finding a bedroom. I wasn’t sure if it was his, or he had a roommate, but it definitely belonged to a guy.

  It wasn’t messy—the room in order with the bed pristinely made—but the air had a distinctive manly smell—woodsy with a hint of soap. Like someone had spliced the scent off the Y chromosome and spritzed into the air as fragrance. I breathed in deeply, feeling slightly more intoxicated while I was standing still.

  Ignoring the breach of personal space, and the lack of invitation, I moved further inside to explore. The assumption that the owner of the space being male was further confirmed when I almost tripped over a gym bag beside the closet. I resisted the temptation to snoop further, finding a door ajar beside the closet, which—thank you, Jesus—happened to be the bathroom.

  Probably should have wandered further and found the main bathroom instead of violating Alex’s—or possibly someone else’s—bedroom. But the niggling probably could go had intensified to definitely need to pee. My hands managed to get the door closed before I pulled down my jeans. I collapsed onto the seat, giggling as I breathed a sigh of relief.

  If the man smell had been strong in the bedroom, it was more intense confined in the small space. My eyes closed as I braced myself and took a deep breath.

  Two things, if I could bottle whatever that smell was, I’d be a millionaire, and I was thankful for the second time since leaving my apartment I had taken birth control.

  Jesus.

  While I wasn’t drunk, my inhibitions were waaaay lower than I would have liked them to be. And if I didn’t want to blow what had turned out to be a touching reunion, I needed to stop acting like it was a date.

  No more drinking.

  Stolen French wine or not, the only thing passing through my lips was going to be water or—probably wisely too—coffee. And I needed to eat.

  Yep, and remember that getting ga-ga over Larssons was in my past, not my future.

  If only God had made them less irresistible.

  FINISHING WITH THE BATHROOM, I washed my hands and resisted the urge to peek in the bathroom cabinets. It was a hardship, and one I was able to overcome by reminding myself I’d already breached the acceptable boundaries for a guest.

  We might have been besties once, but we’d barely become reacquainted.

  Giving myself a stern internal talking to and splashing some water at my neck, I looked at myself in the mirror. Two sparking green eyes stared back at me as I pulled out my ponytail and let my brown curls fall loose. It made me feel less giddy, nodding my head in firm resolution that I was going to behave as I opened the bathroom door.

  “You lost?” Alex’s delicious arms were folded across his chest as he waited on the other side of the doorjamb. “Or you just doing recon?” He chuckled.

  Behave, Maya, I reminded myself as I forced the smile. “I needed a bathroom, and look,” I game show waved my hands around the space, “I found one.”

  “That you have.” He nodded, an amused look on his face. “Pizza is on its way. Anything else you need, or do you want to go back to the living room?”

  There were a lot of things I needed, and I was positive he was more than capable of delivering.

  Shit.

  No.

  I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or his tone had been intentionally suggestive. His face gave nothing away, no hooded eyelids or sexy smiles helping me to decipher.

  “No, no, all good now.” I opted for safe, unable to actually leave the bathroom because his large, sexy, and very distracting body was in the way. “Happy to go back to the living room.”

  He eyed me suspiciously, hesitating a minute before stepping to the side and allowing me room to pass. “Good, you can finish telling me about where you’re living and which firm you work for.”

  “Great, I can do that,” I confirmed for my own benefit, as well as for his, as I strode back to the couch. “I’m at Palmer and Loft,” I volunteered, the conversation safe as I settled back into my seat. “You?”

  “Young, McMillian and Walker.”

  “Impressive.”

  “So I’m told.” He smirked.

  What the hell was that?

  Was he flirting? In all the time I’d known Alex, he’d never flirted with me.

  NEVER.

  Not even when we were both single with raging hormones—which would have made sense—and yet, still nothing.

  But those words were far from innocent, and there was that moment in his bathroom, which was also questionable.

  “Everything okay, Maya?” He looked down at me as my breath quickened and my heartbeat raced. I’d never been speechless around Alex, but as he gazed at me—his intentions not known—I was having a hard time finding words.

  “I’m just a little hot.” I pulled at the neckline of my top, hoping to God I wasn’t flashing my boobs. Or maybe that was what I was hoping for; my mind a bowl of mush as I tried to work out what I wanted to happen.

  His eyes flicked down to my shirt before meeting mine. “You want to take it off?”

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  I moved so fast, I almost head-butted him, leaping off the couch in an effort to either strip like he was suggesting or put some distance between us.

  Okay, to be fair, he had only suggested removing my top, but we all knew where that led.

  “Jesus, Maya.” He laughed, joining me on his feet. “What the hell has gotten into you? I don’t remember you being this jumpy.” His hands settled on my shoulders, looking me in the eyes.

  Interesting, not a seductive technique I was familiar with, but I’d been out of the playfield for a while.

  “If you’re hot, you’re more than welcome to take off your top and change into one of my T-shirts. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve worn my clothes.” He chuckled. “You already know where my bedroom is, go ahead and make yourself more comfortable.”

  Ohhhhhhhhhhh.

  Shit.

  “No, I’m fine. I thi
nk it’s just the wine and the climate change.” I fanned my face hoping he couldn’t read my thoughts.

  Not sure if I was more surprised by my own shock and disappointment, or if it had been so long since a man had flirted with me I’d forgotten what it looked like. And thank God, I needed to work it out before I did something stupid, like take off my top on the condition he removed his.

  “Well, if you change your mind . . .” He left his sentence trailing, side-eyeing me like a stray animal that might spook. Clearly, my behavior hadn’t gone completely unnoticed, we could only hope he chalked it up to jet lag or I was just generally crazy.

  “Thanks.” I smiled, locking my fingers together and shoving them in my lap where I figured they’d keep out of trouble. “That’s really kind of you to offer, you have been . . . really kind.”

  Lord.

  I was so lame.

  So, in addition to never being at a loss for words around Alex, I had never acted like a swooning idiot either. That kind of behavior had been reserved for his older brothers, something he’d teased me about.

  Please, God, don’t let him piece it together. There could only be one of us acting weird, and currently that had been me.

  His hands dropped from my shoulders, and he lowered his head to mine. At a foot taller, it wasn’t a subtle move either, bending as he searched my eyes. “Something else going on, Maya?”

  Busted.

  Yeah, because hoping he’d be clueless was too much to ask, especially when he’d never been dense in the past.

  “This is just weird,” I answered honestly, feeling heat creep up my neck. “Being back here, seeing you, remembering . . .” I swallowed hard. “It’s just a lot.”

  Without asking—and like it was the most natural thing in the world—he wrapped his arms around me and brought me closer. “I did miss you, you know. But I’m so glad you’re back, I didn’t want to waste time dredging up all that stuff. And I haven’t brought up you leaving or your dad because I don’t want you to feel like you owe me an explanation. You were just a kid, Maya, we both were. But if you want to talk about him, I’m happy to listen. I didn’t even think about what seeing me and bringing those memories back might mean for you. You must think I’m such a heartless and thoughtless bastard.”

  God, I was irritated.

  Not at my shithead father—who was the usual source for anger and all things bad—although he was in no way off the hook. But my current state of agitation was wholly self-inflicted. Because I was allowing Alex Larsson to comfort me, and I was enjoying it.

  Instead of telling him the truth, that my off kilter behavior had nothing to do with my dear daddy or the memories of what I’d left, I nodded, easing into the warm sanctuary his chest was providing. I was so relieved that I had an excuse to touch him, and that I also had the perfect cover for acting like a fruitcake, my past a reasonable and rational excuse on why I was being weird around him.

  Worst part was, I only felt a little bit bad about it, agreeing to take whatever penance for my lie. I didn’t even care that the hug was tendered under false pretenses, too busy enjoying those strong masculine arms around me and breathing in that heady, intoxicating man scent.

  He doesn’t like you that way, my subconscious rationalized.

  Who the hell cares, let me just enjoy all that fine body pressed against me, I argued back.

  “Hey.” He pulled away from me way too soon, my arms remaining around him in protest. “You forgive me?”

  My chin tilted toward him and I answered honestly. “Nothing to forgive. And for the record, I don’t think you have the capacity to be heartless or thoughtless and sure as hell didn’t think it.”

  Perpetuating the misunderstanding in order to accept comfort was one thing, making him feel like he’d done something terrible was something else entirely. And I wouldn’t do that, even if it did mean he might remove his hands all together.

  His smile was fucking radiant, his hand giving my arm a platonic rub. “But if I do something that freaks you out, just let me know, okay? Promise?”

  Jesus, take the wheel.

  Not only was he worried about my current well-being but he was concerned about the future of it as well. He was so sweet, so charming that I had to seriously question why I had never had feelings other than friendship for him. Sure, he’d been cocky and slightly arrogant—traits I was almost positive he hadn’t totally outgrown—but he’d always been so kind and considerate. He’d have made the most perfect boyfriend.

  Why hadn’t I ever seen it?

  Maybe, it wasn’t too late?

  “I promise as long as you promise to tell me if I start acting weird. I’m still adjusting to all of this, I need someone who will be real with me.”

  He scoffed, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Babe, it will be my pleasure to point out when you’re being weird. And, as an added bonus, I’ll even be your safe place. Any time you feel the need to weird out, you call me. No one will ever know.”

  “Still my holder of secrets after all these years?” I leaned in closer, despite the danger I knew that came with it, watching the smile twist on his lips.

  “Of course.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was the pizza or time I had to thank, but the heat from my body was no longer blasting like an out-of-control furnace as we ate. I was even able to keep my mind and mouth in check, chatting amicably about our respective families and keeping the conversation in friendly and safe territory. Not that I had suddenly stopped appreciating the fine specimen he’d become, or didn’t notice how seductively his shirt seemed to caress the bulges of his chest, I’d just focused on other things.

  Non-sexual things, which threw water on the heat simmering in my belly.

  “So, both your brothers are married? I thought it would be a cold day in hell before Ben would walk down the aisle,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Preaching to the choir.” I laughed. “My mom thought he was high when he announced his engagement. Seems like even a serial ladies man like my brother is able to be tamed if he finds the right woman. And Jordon and Vanessa have two boys.”

  It wasn’t just the Larsson boys who had played the field, the Zaveri brothers more than held their own.

  “It’s like an epidemic, everyone is getting married. Nick just got hitched a couple of months ago. It was small, low-key but it was kind of cool. Dave went before him, and Roman and Eric aren’t only married but are dads too.”

  While I didn’t say it out loud, Eric joining the ranks of fatherhood wasn’t news. Everything the man did ended up in a magazine, especially when he knocked up his wife. Roman was another story.

  “Roman is a father?” My eyes widened in shock. “He was a control freak who was wearing tailored suits at eighteen and doesn’t like a mess. How the hell does that work out?”

  Not to say I didn’t think he’d be a great dad, but I just never thought it would be in his wheelhouse.

  “Yeah, well like you said with Ben, the love of a good woman. Lauren is awesome, she’s a lawyer too and probably the only one who can put Roman in his place. They had a little boy, Lucas, a couple of months ago.”

  “Wow, it’s like the twilight zone. Roman has a kid.”

  It wasn’t that I hadn’t expected life to go on without us around, it was just startling how much things had changed. Not only growing up, but getting married and having kids also. And while neither of us had said it, Alex and I were the only ones left who hadn’t followed the trend.

  As we relaxed on the couch, there was a comfortable lull in the conversation. Alex turned to face me, his easy smile making me feel more at home than I had in years. “Hey, I have an idea.”

  The sentence had launched a million adventures in our time and its resurgence filled me with so much excitement I had to try to contain myself.

  “I’m in,” I agreed without even asking the particulars.

  He threw his head back, his throaty laugh making its way to his delicious mouth.

 
“I love how you’re game for anything, Maya. I swear, I’ve never had a better wingman.” He leaned in closer, spilling the details of our latest adventure. “My mom is having a get together this weekend at the house. Ever since the grandkids, she likes to have us all together at least once a week. It’s not fancy though, completely casual, and friends are welcome. How cool will it be if you show up?”

  What?

  That wasn’t an adventure, it was a goddamn nightmare. It was bad enough facing one of them, but seeing all of them. At once. It was going to take more than a few glasses of wine to get me to agree.

  “What?” My head shook, giving him the “hell no” my mouth had yet to say.

  “Come to Mom’s. It will be great, you’ll get to see everyone, and they’ll get to see you. Besides, you already said our mothers have been talking, and yet your call was the first I’d heard about you moving back. Think of this as payback for mine withholding information. It will be crazy.” He laughed, his eyes brimming with mischief.

  Crazy was exactly the right word for it. I’d been in L.A. for all of a couple days and I’d barely dipped a toe in. And Alex was expecting me to go to his mother’s house and see them all?

  Even putting aside my father swindling the cash from their dad, that wasn’t a family you could just casually toss yourself into.

  There was something about those Larssons that made them seem . . . godlike. Too good-looking, too smart, too brilliant at everything—and that was before any of them had become rich, famous or successful. One on one was hard enough, but to throw yourself in there with all of them? Last time I checked I wasn’t a lion tamer and I’d already donated my gladiator sandals to Goodwill.

  “Are you insane?” I choked out, not even pretending I was considering it.

  His smile didn’t dissipate, still living in denial that it was a good idea. “Oh come on, aren’t you even a tiny bit curious? I’m sure they’d love to see you, and you know my mom loves you. Her house is like neutral territory.”