He’s here! At least it better be him. Maybe you should start googling how to hide your dead boyfriend’s body when he stands you up for the second time in two days, Lis.
Give the boy a chance...
then Google.
She was ready, mostly. Her hair was loose over her shoulders, and once again the only make-up she wore was lip gloss. Her top was conservative, and she wore a long maxi skirt, which brushed her ankles as she walked. Her feet were still bare as she answered the door.
“You’re early,” she told him with a smile.
“You look lovely, Lis,” he replied, handing her some flowers, lilies, her favorite – which she had ingeniously dropped into conversation early on in their relationship.
Say thank you.
“Thank you. What’s the occasion?” she eyed him innocently.
“Do I need a reason to bring you flowers?’ he asked as she let him in. Seeing her unchanged facial expression, he continued, “I feel bad about last night. I just want tonight to be perfect.” For a change, color rose in his cheeks, and she felt herself smile.
“Just give me a minute to get my shoes on and I’ll be ready to go – will you put these in water for me, please?”
“Sure.”
When she was ready, they headed to the car. Once again, he was walking by her side, until they reached doors and then he was somehow simultaneously beside her and a step ahead of her to open them for her.
Always with the chivalry.
She felt relaxed. She wasn’t nervous, or apprehensive, and she thoroughly enjoyed his company. Before they’d reached the restaurant, her sides were aching from giggling. Until now, she’d felt like their conversations had often been rushed, clipped, and there was always something one of them had to either apologize for, or run off to. They’d made the best of what they had, but no matter how long they had together online, it just wasn’t enough for either of them. They both always wanted more. This was different; she had him all to herself, and she was enjoying every second of it.
Dinner was delicious. They tried each other’s food. She thought his was nicer than hers, and he thought the same of hers, so they swapped. She declined dessert, although when his came, she obviously asked for an extra spoon and helped herself. Dipping her finger into the whipped cream she smeared a little on to his cheek as she excused herself to go to the bathroom.
“You’ll pay for that!” he exclaimed, smiling as he wiped it off with a napkin.
“Bring it on, hockey boy,” she retorted playfully.
When they’d finished dinner, they went for a walk. It wasn’t cold, so she left her jacket in the car.
“Where to?” she asked him.
Shrugging, he answered, “Do we need a destination?”
“No,” she replied, “I just assumed you had a destination in mind.”
“I am capable of spontaneity you know,” he smiled at her, nudging her gently with his elbow. “Not everyone needs a destination in mind at all times, Miss Planaholic!”
“I know that,” she pushed him slightly harder.
“Hey!” he pouted, “that hurt!” He fake rubbed at the spot she’d pushed.
“Oh, give over!” she admonished. “Suck it up! You’re a hockey player.” She stuck her tongue out at him and they laughed. “We’re so mature,” she said to him, giggling.
“Speak for yourself,” he told her stiffly, “I am the mature one.” He puffed out his chest and his expression was like that of a teacher scolding his class.
Pretending to be offended she folded her arms and stuck out her bottom lip.
“See?” he scoffed. “That’s hardly mature,” he said giggling. Her face remained unchanged. She turned away from him, pouting. “Come on, babe!” he approached her from behind and slipped his arms around her waist. Resting his head on her shoulder, he whispered, “You’re really kinda cute when you sulk, you know that?”
No answer.
He tightened his arms around her middle and kissed the side of her neck lightly. “Ok, ok,” he caved, “you’re not immature.” He sighed, “Will you talk to me now?”
Her face broke into a smile, and she turned to face him. She slipped her arms around his neck and licked his nose ever so slightly with the tip of her tongue.
“Hey!” he cried in mock protest. She turned to try and escape, but he had caught her by the wrist and was pulling her back towards him.
“I’m starting to think that maybe neither of us are very mature!” she managed to say through giggles as he tickled her. Regaining their composure, they continued walking. He slipped his hand into hers and pulled her close. Sliding his arm around her waist, he said, “You’re walking awfully far away,”
“Well, Chelsea and Stephanie said hockey boys have cooties!” she told him in her sweetest, most childish voice. Taking one look at his face, she burst into fits of giggles. She tried to slip her arm around his waist, but he pulled away.
“Oh, no you don’t! ‘Cause hockey players have cooties!” he mocked her sticking out his tongue.
“Now who’s cute when they’re huffing?” she asked him smiling. As she moved closer, he backed away from her, they both quickened their pace causing him to bump into a lamppost. When he bumped into it, he looked at her, surprised.
“Gotcha,” she smirked.
Holding his hands up in surrender, he started to laugh. “Ok, ok, you win!” He offered her his hand. She took it and let him pull her closer. “This time anyway.”
They hadn’t walked far, but she was enjoying herself, even if they were acting like kids.
It’s kinda fun to act like a kid sometimes. I love that he brings out my carefree spirit.
Chapter 7
The sun set and the stars began to decorate the sky. It was still warm, and, as Lisa and AJ walked, she announced that she wanted ice cream. After twenty-minutes of searching, they found an ice cream parlor and they ate, sitting on a nearby bench. She sat at the opposite end of the bench to him and swung her feet up on his lap, ankles crossed.
She wanted more and suspected he did too. But it seemed as though neither of them quite knew how to crossover from seven months of being a vague, online “thing” into the “we’re finally standing in front of each other”, physical side of a relationship. She was happy to take it slowly, she didn’t want to rush, but she definitely felt a little torn. Part of her wanted to throw herself at him and tear his clothes off right there on the bench.
A big part.
I’m sure you’re delicious under that shirt.
Down, girl.
The other part of her had to constantly remind herself that they weren’t officially a couple yet, and they’d really only just met in person. Her self-confidence certainly wasn’t at the stage where she felt that she could take control, and she had a feeling that he was waiting and making sure that it was what she wanted. She’d traveled across the world to meet him, yes, but she got the impression that he didn’t want her to feel pressured into sleeping with him, or as though after all those chats and emails, he only wanted her for one thing. It just didn’t feel as though they were quite at the discussion stage of any of this yet. It hung between them heavily though. He was, after all, a red-blooded, athletic male who spent a lot of his time throwing his weight around on the ice. And she was, after all, a red-blooded woman who was sick of her “toy” box and more than ready to have the real thing.
She wanted him to make the first move.
How very progressive of you, Lis. She rolled her eyes at herself. You’re waiting for him and he’s probably waiting for you. Quite the ‘You’re not getting laid’ stand-off you’ve landed yourself in here. Good going.
Score one for women’s suffrage.
She definitely liked how their 'accidental' and 'innocent-ish' contact was increasing. Holding hands, how he put his arm around her, how he’d brush her hair from her face with his fingers and she knew that things would progress, or at least she hoped so. But in some moments, like sitting staring at him licking his ice cream, she
certainly found it challenging to control her urges.
“Want to try mine?” she offered her cone.
“Sure,”
She sat up and leaned towards him, holding her cone for him to try. She poised herself and, just at the right moment, she shoved her cone in his face, smothering him in ice cream and giggled hysterically. Before he’d recovered from his shock, she was on her feet and running away from him.
“That was for standing me up, AJ!” she called back to him.
“That’s two I owe you!” he retorted. She didn’t need to look back to know that he was on his feet. He was an athlete; he ran every day. He’d catch her in no time, and she knew it. She could barely run the length of herself. When he caught up to her, he picked her up and spun her ‘round, “Ok, I deserved that,” he told her.
“Yes, you did!”
I ran what? Ten feet? I’m already dying.
“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked as they started back towards the car.
“Only if I get to choose!” she replied grinning.
“Deal.”
The trip to his house was spent bickering over who got to be DJ. He felt it should be him, because it was his car. She felt it should be her, because she was the guest. In the end, they listened to a bunch of half-lines of songs before they were quickly vetoed and turned over, even if they liked the other’s selection. It was a matter of principle!
At home, he put on some music and poured drinks for them both. She kicked off her shoes and lay on the sofa. She lifted her head for him to sit down and rested it on his lap when he was settled. As she sipped her drink, he asked
“Picked a film yet?” running his fingers through her hair as it lay across his thigh. Shaking her head, she stifled a yawn.
“Nope,” setting her glass down, “where’s your room?” she asked suddenly.
“Over there,” he pointed, looking confused.
And hopeful. He definitely looked hopeful. Thank GOD.
“I’m getting sleepy, and I’m not going to fall asleep in this if I have to wear it again tomorrow,” she shrugged as she stood up.
“Help yourself,” he answered.
“I was gonna, I just didn’t know where to look,” she added before starting towards his room.
“So, you’re staying then?” he called to her, grinning.
“If I fall asleep? Then yes. Otherwise, maybe.”
“Oh yeah? Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?” he continued, still smiling.
“Well…” she started, “if you’d prefer, I could leave now!” She began to head for the door.
He started to laugh. “Don’t go…please?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes.
“Damnit! If I only had a pillow to hand!” she retorted.
“Yeah, yeah,” he smirked, “go change your clothes.”
Throwing him her best “fine” look, she headed into his room and came out wearing a pair of his sweats and a matching UAH t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she was humming to herself.
“So,” she started cautiously, “the chick’s underwear on the radiator? Am I to assume that’s Britt’s?” She watched his face. “Actually – no, wait, do I even want to know? ‘Cause if it’s some kinda kinky stuff you and Jeremy got goin’ on, I don’t think I need to hear it!” she giggled nervously.
I’m actually not sure which answer I’m hoping for right now.
Returning her smile, he moved his legs and she sat facing him on the sofa. She drew her knees up under her chin and hugged them.
“They are Britt’s,” he told her. She’d heard about Britt, the best friend from childhood. Aside from his parents, his sister and Jeremy, the only other person she was nervous of meeting, was Britt.
“I’ve tried,” he continued exasperated, “I can’t get her to stop leaving her underwear lying around. I mean, I draw the line at her wandering around naked, or in her underwear.” Seeing the look on her face, he quickly added, “Don’t worry, she doesn’t!”
“’Cause this isn’t weird in the slightest!” she told him.
“It’s not!” he protested, “We just live together. We’re roomies!” he continued.
“Hey,” she interrupted him, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, I trust you.”
“Ok,” he answered simply, but she could tell something was playing on his mind. She didn’t push it. She’d learned by now when to push and when not to. This was firmly a “when not to” instance.
At that moment, she heard a key turn in the lock. Her back was facing whomever was coming in.
“Hey you guys!” she exclaimed. Bubbly. Turning to look at her she realized just how pretty she was, too. She had seen a few pictures of Britt, and she was pretty gorgeous. But, in real life? She had that ‘model’ look going on. And there Lisa was, standing in her sweats and a college shirt.
She better not walk around naked. I don’t care if she lives here. She BETTER not walk around naked!
Damnit! she thought, She’s bubbly and pretty? I bet she’s nice too. Bollocks. Why couldn’t she be nasty, bitchy and ugly? It would make is so much easier to hate the woman living with her internet-maybe-boyfriend, if she wasn’t so obviously lovely.
“Hi!” she chirped, returning her smile. Give her a chance, she told herself sternly. Don’t do the jealous, whack-job routine right off the bat, she warned herself.
Standing, Lisa turned to face Britt, extending her hand, Britt shook it warmly, looking questioningly over her shoulder at AJ with her eyebrow raised. Lisa wasn’t quite sure what the look was about, but when she turned to look at AJ, he quickly hid behind a smile a look she couldn’t place.
Guilt? Was that a guilty look? Why is he looking guilty?
I swear to fuck if she walks around here naked I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.
“I didn’t know you were coming to town! How do you like Alabama so far?” she questioned politely.
“It’s nice,” Lisa replied, “but I’ve only seen a bit of it,”
“I’m sure Age will be showing you round in no time,”
“Yeah, I’ll bet!” she answered smiling.
Tension? Awkwardness? Hesitation? Yes, that’s it, she’s hesitating, she’s thinking, she’s being guarded. She’s wary of me? No, that can’t be it, can it?
Are you making things up in your head again, Lisa? Can’t she just be as lovely as she seems?
No.
Lisa couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was there. It was as if there was something she wanted to talk about, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, or shouldn’t.
Maybe she’s just shocked that I’m here? Or thinks AJ kept this huge secret from her for some reason? Maybe I’m just overthinking it all and I’m paranoid and overly sensitive.
But there was definitely something in that look.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, “I’ll be outta here in no time. I’m just grabbing a bag, I’m going down to Roberto’s for a week. That’ll give you two some time together.” Britt gave her a sly wink.
Feeling herself blush, yet again, she tried to think of an answer, something smart, funny – hey, anything at all would be good at this point! Instead, she picked up a cushion and hurled it at her. “Give over!” she drawled.
“Whoa! What a comeback, Irish girl!” she mimicked, “Got yourself a keeper there, Age!” she laughed as she headed to her room.
“Ignore her,” he told her loudly. “She’s just frustrated cause she hasn’t gotten any, in, like, a month, or something!”
“Shut up, butt-head! Remember I could embarrass the crap outta you in front of your girlfriend!” she threatened, only half-jokingly.
“Ooooooh I wanna know now!” Lisa chimed in.
Is it bad that I’m enjoying this? she asked herself as she noticed the color rising in his cheeks.
Wait, she said girlfriend.
Am I his girlfriend?
Are we actually there yet?
“I’d love to stay and mortify him,
but I gotta go! It was nice to finally meet you, Lisa,” she said warmly and with that, they were alone again.
Despite the fact that Britt was leaving to visit with her boyfriend, Lisa couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind that something was off, she just couldn’t place what it was.
Lis, you’re paranoid. And you REALLY need to get laid.
Chapter 8
“Well,” Lisa began slowly, “that was…” she paused, searching for a word, “interesting!” She grinned.
“Wait till I visit you in Ireland,” AJ told her. “I’m sure all your friends will wanna embarrass the crap outta you too!”
“Uh huh. But, for now, I’m on your turf – so deal with it!” She stuck her tongue out at him once again.
He threw a cushion at her, she caught it and hurled it back. He caught it again.
“Do you really want to start this with me?” she asked.
“Why? Whatcha gonna do? Hmm? Start crying or something?” he mocked.
“Oh, you’re trying to rile me?” She threw another pillow at him, this time hitting him.
“Is it working?” he grinned mischievously. He sat up and moved closer to her.
“NO!” she huffed, shoving him gently. He shoved her back.
“You’d better be careful there, mister,” she warned.
“Why’s that?” he shoved her again. She knelt and shoved him with both hands.
“Don’t you start on me, Pim!” she warned, still smiling.
He poked her midsection.
Damnit, she thought as she flinched. He knows I have tickles and I’m starting to think he knows I wanna tear his clothes off and do…THINGS to him.
The second of hesitation was all it took. He was tickling her. She was giggling so hard she didn’t realize they were slipping off the edge of the sofa, and, before she could stop herself, she was lying on her back with him on top of her, still tickling her.
She was forced to acknowledge that part of what was holding her back from jumping his bones was her overwhelming tendency to clumsiness. As well as his. She was quite terrified that she’d lean in to kiss him and he’d end up concussed, or with a bloody nose. She needed to find a way to feel comfortable around him before exposing just how much of a klutz she was.
Intimate Strangers (The Lisa Millar Series Book 1) Page 4