Entangle

Home > Other > Entangle > Page 6
Entangle Page 6

by Veronica Larsen


  Almost as soon as she walks away, I feel a hand lay on the small of my back. I turn around and see Jacob. I’m caught off-guard and have to resist the urge to shut my eyes in dread. Instead, I fix a smile on my lips and say, “Jacob, hi. What are you doing here?”

  “It’s my niece’s birthday.”

  Second cousin, actually, but fair enough—he has more of a right to be here than I do. I feel idiotic for even asking. It didn’t occur to me that he would be here. I didn’t intend on seeing him this soon after our date. Or at all.

  Now I realize this is what Julia was going to tell me before Giles called her away. She, too, must’ve realized at the last minute that Jacob would also be here. A pregnancy brain lapse on her part. Great. This is the perfect example of why dating someone your best friend is related to is a bad idea.

  I thought he was nice-looking during our date, but he’s even better looking in the light of day. I realize it’s my turn to speak but I've been watching him in silence.

  “Well, this is awkward,” he says as he reaches past me to fill a cup with soda. He holds my gaze as he sips. The sight of such a large man drinking from a miniature plastic tea cup makes it hard for me to not burst out into laughter. When I do, he says, “Don’t worry, I won’t be in your hair all day. I saw you come in and I wanted to apologize for last night. I wasn’t myself. You were a little hard to read. Extremely hard to read, actually.”

  I tilt my head a notch.

  “Okay, the word is intimidating. You were intimidating.”

  I shake my head. “Intimidating?”

  That’s not the word I want someone to use when describing a first date with me. I try to think back on our date and I can’t imagine what I could’ve done to make him feel intimidated by me. I thought I was polite. I never once interrupted him, never once showed signs of my impatience or boredom. I mean, yes, I guess my mind strayed toward Leo during the date, but Jacob would have no way of knowing that. It couldn’t have affected him. He was too busy talking about himself. Whatever. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.

  I go on, “If I remember correctly, it seems you weren’t intimidated enough to suggest we go off somewhere and do…who knows what.”

  “Oh, yeah. That,” he says with the hint of a smirk, as though remembering some inside joke. “Thing is, I didn’t expect it to work but can you blame me for trying? I mean, you’re gorgeous and I’m only flesh and blood.”

  I roll my eyes at his compliment. The light of day also seems to make our slight age gap feel broader. Maybe it’s the way he speaks, but it makes me feel like I’ve got the upper hand out of the two of us.

  “I know I was a blabbing idiot, I was nervous. And I didn’t want to drink since I was driving. When I’m nervous I talk a lot. I had to keep the conversation going while you stared at me with those big eyes—which, for the record, are really distracting.”

  “You don’t seem nervous now.”

  “Maybe I hide it well. Or maybe you’re not as scary in the daylight.”

  A short laugh escapes me. He’s much taller than me and I have to crane my head back to keep eye contact. I lower my head for a moment and my sights land on the pale-green button-down shirt he is wearing. I peer back at him and notice that the color of his shirt brings out caramel streaks in his brown eyes.

  I am surprised by the playful side he’s showing me, a side I didn’t notice in the least during our date. Was I the awful one last night? Maybe I was. I admit, with my mind being elsewhere, it’s possible that I completely misjudged Jacob. It’s a habit of mine to dismiss men. I made him out to be self-absorbed, when he was trying to fill in the gap that my wandering mind created. I was the one that was self-absorbed.

  “I had an awful day at work yesterday. I hope I wasn’t too horrible to be around.”

  He shrugs. “You were fun to look at.”

  My mouth drops to form an ‘O’ shape. I can’t believe he just said that to me. I shake my head at him and say, “Yeah, well. Ditto.”

  Julia is suddenly among us, her tone overly sweet.

  “Hey, guys! How are you? Enjoying ourselves over here?”

  It’s clear by the exasperation in her voice that she rushed across the lawn to reach us. This birthday party might put her into labor. She looks at me with a tight smile, her eyes silently asking me if I am okay. Julia knows the date didn’t go well. I texted her last night—per her request—to tell her about it. She was disappointed but didn’t push the subject.

  “We’re good. Just catching up.” I nod at her, letting her know I’m fine.

  She nearly sighs in relief. “Okay, good. I’ve got to go patch up a hole in the back of the cake.” She lowers her voice to a dramatic whisper and adds, “Seems like two little assholes have been scooping out chunks from under the table.”

  Jacob and I laugh at her as she heads away again.

  “So,” Jacob says. I realize he’s watching me. “Maybe we can give dinner another shot?”

  I don’t even think twice before I answer, “I don’t think so.”

  But I find myself smiling at the exaggerated offense that erupts on his face.

  “Alright then. Can I get you some tea?” He reaches over the table and grabs a clean teacup.

  “I don’t drink tea.”

  “Play along, Lex, we’re at a tea party.” His eyes scour the contents of the drink table and his smile falls a little. “There isn’t even any tea. You know what? It’s okay. No one really likes to drink tea, anyway. Tastes like dirty water.” He pours fruit punch into the teacup, instead, and passes it to me, bowing his head. His voice twists into an accent. “My lady.”

  “Are we British now?” I ask, taking the cup from him.

  “If it gets you to drink tea punch with me.” He flashes me a coy sideways look as he goes to refill his own cup. “Also—I take it back.”

  I raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

  “You aren’t intimidating. You’re daunting.”

  “Well, that’s the same thing.”

  “Not to me. Something intimidating makes you shrink away, something daunting makes you want to rise to the occasion.”

  I divert my eyes to make sure he can’t see the smile growing in them. He’s charming, I’ll give him that. As we fall into light conversation, I realize that he’s also easy to talk to. He makes me laugh more than I want to admit. But what he doesn’t make me is nervous. Not once. I feel comfortable around him. He doesn’t take himself seriously and it’s refreshing. He makes me want to not take myself seriously either. In the process, I enjoy his company.

  I’ll admit, basking in Jacob’s attention feels gratifying, but I wouldn’t describe it as an attraction. I don’t feel an irresistible pull toward him. It’s a noticeable contrast, how sober my mind feels around Jacob compared to when I’m around Leo. I can’t help but consider how much easier it would be if I could want Jacob instead of Leo. I guess the mind simply wants what it wants.

  X

  Leo

  I pull my car into my usual space at work. The parking lot is otherwise empty, but I expect as much on a Saturday afternoon. I walk into the building and reach for the light switches before realizing the lights are already on. Strange.

  “Hello?” I call out into the hallway. “Anyone here?”

  No one answers. A stillness follows as I stand there, listening. There are no sounds from within the building. Maybe the cleaning person, who works Friday nights, forgot to turn the lights off. It happens.

  I walk toward my office, reflecting on how the empty building seems cold and uninviting. Not that it matters; I don’t intend on staying long. I reach my office and sweep the bookshelf, locating the project binder, and pull it under my arm.

  Reaching the door to leave again, I stop to look back at my computer. Might as well check on some things, since I came all this way. I settle down at my desk and turn on the computer. When my eyes dart upward again, there’s a figure at my doorway.

  Startled, we both yell out.

 
; “Holy crap!”

  “Shit!”

  It’s Alexis. Her hands are cradled along her chest, trying to contain the jolt of her heart.

  We start laughing, out of relief that the other isn’t a masked stranger clutching a butcher knife. Our laughter dies out and we’re left looking at each other.

  Earphones hang from around her neck. Her skin is fresh-faced and makeup free.

  She clears her throat and says, “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

  “I didn’t see your car in the lot.” My eyes sweep down her figure as I speak. She wears a black tank top and gray yoga pants that cling to her curves. The woman is effortlessly sexy.

  “I ran here. I needed to check on something…”

  She trails off and tries to tuck her hair behind her ears, forgetting she has it up in a ponytail. I know that she, too, feels acutely aware of how alone we are.

  I’m surprised that she’s still lingering at the door and I move to the front of my desk, hoping to encourage her to stay. Something is different about her today. There’s something disarming about the tone of her voice. I sense her mindset is disengaged from work-mode and is suddenly rather laid back. It seems that she peels away her aloofness along with her pencil skirt.

  “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

  “I’m not,” I say, sitting on the edge of my desk. “What I mean is, I didn’t intend to. I needed this.” I pat the binder on the desk beside me.

  She walks over and looks at it. “Homework, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Our eyes meet again and I feel the electricity weaving in the air between us. It takes every ounce of control to keep my hands on the desk behind me. Then my eyesight darts to a purple speck on her cheek.

  “Is that…” I don’t realize what I’m doing until I reach over to her and brush a finger along her skin to pick it up. Her response is immediate; she freezes up at my touch. “Is this confetti?”

  She leans in to get a closer view.

  “Oh. Yeah. I was at a kid’s party earlier.” She takes hold of my hand with her own to inspect the purple speck I’m holding on the tip of my finger. She goes on pretending she doesn’t notice our proximity, but still lowers her voice a notch. “I got caught in a piñata explosion.”

  “Sounds terrifying.”

  Our voices are just above a whisper now. Because we’re standing so close together, there’s no need to speak louder than that. My breathing slows as I look down toward her mouth and watch as her lips form the next words.

  “It was. I barely made it out alive.”

  I’m not sure what happened next and I don’t know who made the first move, who closed the gap between us. All I know is that her face is suddenly in my hands and I’m kissing her. Hard. Her mouth parts to my tongue, her own joining me willingly.

  Her entire body melts into mine as she wraps her arms around my neck. Our kiss is desperate. I grab her by her waist and move our bodies around until her back hits the door. I press her against it. My hands slide up and down her body, touching whatever I can reach. I know she can feel my hard-on pressing on her. And I don’t care. I want her so badly I can't even think straight.

  “I’ve got to have you,” I say into her mouth.

  I mean it. Right here, right now. I’ve never wanted someone this insanely. I try to pull down her pants but she shifts and spins us around and now I’m the one pinned to the door.

  She continues to kiss me, as if she can’t get enough. Then she pulls out of the kiss and we linger for a few seconds, nose to nose. Breathing heavily. I’m aware that every inch of our bodies is touching. I start to run my hands down her body again, my fingers sliding under the waistband of her pants, feeling the skin on the small of her back. Suddenly, she pulls away from me altogether.

  I blink slowly, feeling drunk off of her. I am sure that it was all in my head, just another vivid fantasy. Until I notice that we are both standing by the door. Her chest is still heaving and her skin is flushed. We scan each other’s faces and the lull that follows seems exaggerated by my giant hard-on.

  I know I said I wasn’t going to fuck Alexis. I know I said my cock doesn’t make decisions for me. But that was before my entire blood supply was pumping into it. That was before I knew what her moans taste like. I can’t go back to not knowing that, to not wanting that. No chance in hell.

  “Okay,” I say, trying to sound casual and resisting the urge to smile. “One time, right? You know what? I think I can manage that.”

  She lets out a short laugh. It seems involuntary and she tries to hide it by wiping away the moisture from our kiss.

  “I don’t make an offer like that more than once. Sorry. You already said no.”

  Though her lips don’t twitch, every inch of her expression is smiling.

  “Can I make the offer, then?”

  “I suppose you can try,” she says coolly, enjoyment dancing behind her eyes.

  She looks at me for a second longer before she walks past me and out of the door. I don’t try to stop her, because I understand what she means. She’s a proud creature and I turned her down when she first offered to sleep with me. What just happened between us doesn’t change the fact that I rejected her. It only accentuates the fact that it was a mistake on my part. What the hell was I thinking, anyway?

  I had no idea that my wildest fantasies can’t compare to how she feels pressed against me, to the sweet taste of her tongue and the stirring scent that drifts from her skin.

  I suppose you can try.

  Yes, Alexis. I suppose I can.

  XI

  Alexis

  I can’t remember what I did the rest of the weekend. Seriously. All I know is that my nights are spent twisting around under my sheets. I try desperately to rub away the ache Leo left when he touched me, when he kissed me. But the relief I’m able to achieve barely scratches the surface of a deeper itch I yearn to scratch.

  Of course, I know that itch isn’t going to go away. Not until I ride Leo straight into release. This is how clouded my mind is over the next few days.

  I’m fantasizing at home, I’m fantasizing at work.

  Every second that my mind isn’t preoccupied by a task or a decent conversation, I’m imagining Leo’s hands all over my body, imagining the taste of his tongue. I hope to hell no one else notices how flustered I feel all the time.

  Monday comes. Leo and I do our best to remain professional in our office interactions. To be honest, he’s a little too professional. He doesn’t try to touch me and he doesn’t bring up what happened on Saturday. The only hint that it wasn’t all a sexed-up dream is the smile that creeps behind his eyes when he looks at me.

  I hope to hell no one else notices that, either.

  Apart from that, his tone remains courteous and respectful, even when no one is around to overhear us. Even when we find ourselves alone in my office, talking over a new project. Having him this close brings up the lingering feeling of his touch on my skin. I can barely focus on what we are talking about. The itch is a constant state of being, crawling through my entire body and making me hyper aware of every tiny thing Leo does. How his shirt is rolled up, how his forearm muscles flex as he taps a finger on the table.

  I rein in the hormones because I have to. I’m not going to make a move. I’m too proud for that. I put my cards on a table already; I told him that I wanted him. Why the fuck is he idling around when he should be sliding into me, pounding into me, making me squirm under him?

  Fantasies of him are consuming me. I can’t remember the last time I was this perpetually turned on, all day long for days on end.

  By Wednesday, I wonder if his detached demeanor is all part of some plan of his, to push me over the edge with anticipation, to propel me onto him.

  That morning, I get a text message from him. I’m surprised to see his name pop up on my cell phone, momentarily forgetting that I’ve had his number saved on my phone all along. I have the phone numbers of all my department directors.

/>   [Can I use your number when you haven’t technically given it to me?]

  A grin tugs on my lips as I respond.

  [I think it’s too late to ask, since you just did.]

  [In that case, I can’t stop thinking about you either.]

  [Who said I was thinking about you?]

  [I walked by your office earlier and saw you staring off into space.]

  [In a horny sort of way.]

  I cover my face with my hand. His office is down the hall. I don’t know how much sound can carry when my door is open; he might hear me if I laugh.

  [Really? Is this your idea of seducing me?]

  [I’ve already seduced you. Haven’t you noticed?]

  I bite my lip and try to think of something equally witty. Before I can respond, my phone buzzes again.

  [Can I take you out? Dinner?]

  My smile falters. A date? I thought this was about sex. I feel my stomach tie in uncomfortable knots and I realize it’s not because I don’t want to go out on a date with him. It’s because I do. I’m curious about him. I find myself wanting to get to know him better, but I know this isn’t a good idea. The less familiar we are with each other, the better.

  [A date isn’t part of the deal.]

  [Why not?]

  [It’s just not. What would be the point of it, anyway?]

  [Maybe I’ve got a heavy petting questionnaire for you to fill out. Standard procedure, but it’s lengthy. Best to tackle it over steak.]

  [How charming. Like I said, a date isn’t part of the deal.]

  [Fine. Let’s not call it a date. Maybe we are just two people that will happen to eat dinner at the same place and same time. Friday night?]

  I consider this for a moment. What’s the harm? It’s not like I’ll be reading too much into it. One dinner doesn’t make things any more complicated. Or any less complicated.

  [Fine. Just don’t get your hopes up about it.]

  [Ouch. Too late.]

  Not even ten minutes later, Leo knocks on my office door. When I look up at him, he flashes me a quick smile before speaking from the doorway.

 

‹ Prev