by S. L. Scott
She’s laughing so hard that it takes a minute for her to get enough air gathered to ask, “Did you date her a long time?”
“I dated her until she broke up with me the next day for Chad Mackenzie. Once it got around school that she put out for me, every dickwad in school was after her.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Not really.” I laugh. The story is too ridiculous not to. Now. Hindsight and all that. “The hottest senior in school approached me a week later asking me to . . .” I stop and look at Virginia.
“What?”
I chuckle. “To help her out.”
Tilting her head, she rolls her eyes, and teases, “I thought I was different.”
You are. “You are.” Shit. I watch her for a reaction, praying it’s a good one.
Her fingers fumble together in her lap, that sweetest of pinks seen even in the low light reaching us from the kitchen. “You say the nicest things, Hardy. You’re really good at this flirting thing.”
Sighing, I realize she thinks I’m saying this as part of the plan, that it’s put on and not real. I take my wine and drink. “Thanks,” I reply, disappointment coating my words. “We should eat before it gets cold.” I never was good at hiding my emotions. Maybe it’s because I hate lying, and liars even more. I try to live my life as honestly as possible. When I screw up, I own it. When I succeed, I own that shit too.
This game we’re playing is dangerous, but it seems only to my heart. So as much as I want to tell her I’m starting to have feelings for her, I’m not ready to lose her. She’s clearly into the asshole, so not only do I find myself now lying, but I’ve also become the liar I loathe.
Stealing a glimpse of her, I realize—She’s totally worth it.
Chapter Nine
Silence stretched across dinner, and I hated it. I don’t want this for us. After another few bites, I tell her, “This might be the best lasagna I’ve ever had.” Truth.
That brightens her spirit. “Really?”
“Really.”
“It’s my great-grandmother’s recipe. She wasn’t Italian but she once told me about a torrid love affair she had with a chef while visiting Rome in the twenties.
Things begin to turn around for us both. I do love me some sexual banter. “Torrid, huh?”
“I think that means she had sex with him against her family’s wishes.”
“I think that means a lot more. How do you feel about torrid?”
“With you?” She sets her plate down and takes a sip of her wine before sitting back and tucking her legs under her.
She looks good on my couch, making me wonder what she’ll look like on my bed. “We can do torrid?”
“I think I have a few other lessons to learn first.”
“I think you’re doing just fine.”
“That’s because you’re being nice.”
I set my plate down. “Stop saying that, okay?” Tapping her leg, I make sure she’s looking in my eyes to see I mean what I say. “When I say something to you, I mean it. I’m not saying it to make you feel better or on false pretenses. If you feel better because of it, great. That’s a bonus, but I don’t lie and I’m not lying to you.”
“I’m sorr—”
“I don’t need you to apologize either. I want you to relax and enjoy our time together, like I am.”
“It’s just so easy with you. It’s never been like this before with any of the guys I dated.”
“That’s because they wanted to fuck you.”
The lilt in her voice is heard, the anticipation seen in her eyes. “And what do you want to do?”
Resting my hand on her thigh, she’s right. It’s easy being with her. “I want to fuck you.”
I’m pushed in the chest and fall back on the couch laughing. She’s laughing and says, “You’re terrible.”
“I’m also a guy.” When I sit up, I add, “And I want you to find love.”
“You mean teach me to find love,” she corrects, missing my subtlety altogether.
On the tail end of an exhale, I give her what she wants to hear. “Yes, Virginia. I want to teach you to find love.”
“So how am I doing with the flirting?”
“Better than you realize.”
She appears pleased. Standing up, she collects our plates. “Would you like more?”
“Definitely,” I reply, not talking about the food at all. Watching her in my kitchen, I ask, “What do you want, Virginia?”
She giggles and comes back to the couch. Handing me a second helping of dinner, she adds, “I really want to look back on my life and know I had at least one great love affair that I can reflect on fondly and tell my granddaughters all about.”
I’ll be your torrid. Just open your eyes, pretty girl.
Her expression turns serious. “Do you think Lowry will be that guy?”
“I think Lowry is the opposite of anything torrid, but it’s about what you want. Not what I want.”
“I want Lowry.”
A heavy realization weighs me down. This woman is going to be the death of me. “Then I’ll help you.”
“How’s Tuesday for lesson two?”
“I can leave work early.”
“Or I can come to your work? We can practice the flirting and whatever lesson two is at The Hideaway.”
Her dedication is impressive, and I’m not an idiot. “Okay. Just come whenever. I’ll take my break after you arrive. We’ll get some real life practice in.”
Just after nine, she stands. “I should get going. I have a breakfast meeting at seven and it will take me an hour to get home.”
Stay. My psychological willing powers don’t work as she grabs her coat and slips it on. I take her scarf from the hook. “You have a few servings left. Just reheat and eat though sometimes I like it cold.”
“Thanks again . . .” Stay. Damn. Still doesn’t work. She opens the door and I follow her out. “So I’ll see you Tuesday at the bar.”
“I look forward to it.”
We make our way down the stairs, and I hold the door open for her. We walk out into the night, the cold hitting harder than usual. “I’ll get you a cab.”
“Thanks.”
Walking to the curb, I put my arm out. My street is quiet but just busy enough to have taxis troll looking for fares. One pulls up and Virginia comes to get in. “Hardy?”
Turning to stand close enough for me to inhale her little white breaths puffing between us. “Yeah?”
“My scarf,” she says, pointing at my hands.
Oh. “Oh, sorry.” I take it in both hands and instead of handing it to her, I bring it around the back of her neck. Pink lips, green eyes with innocence shading the pupils, hair that shines even at night. So utterly tempting to pull her close and kiss her until she sees that I’m doing more than flirting with her.
Her hands cover mine. Those delicate lips part and we stare into each other’s eyes. After a few long beats, she whispers, “I had a good time.”
“Me too.” I cup her face and lean down, closing my eyes. My heart is racing and her breath becomes mine, but I don’t kiss her like I want. I angle to the side and kiss her cheek. “Be safe.”
I’m not sure if I hear her gulp or it’s mine that’s filling our ears, but that phrase the struggle is real was never so prevalent as it is now. I take a step back and hold the door open for her. Her eyes leave mine and she slips inside the cab. I hand the driver money and tell him to take her home. “Thank you,” she says.
I shut the door, tap the top, and move away. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I nod. With a little wave to me, the cab drives away. I watch until the taillights disappear. When I go upstairs, vanilla still lingers, making me smile. I’m going to have to do some soul searching. Who knew one little green-eyed analyst could flip your world upside down without you even realizing it until it’s too late?
This situation has turned into a quandary, and as such, I’m going to need to consult with the expert on love—Romeo.
; * * *
Romeo Rossi. The ladies call him The Italian Stallion of The Hideaway. I’m calling on him for advice.
“How can I help you, my friend?” he asks when I take a seat at the bar in front of him. We’re open, but at four in the afternoon on a Monday, it’s not busy. Yet.
“I need to ask you about something,” I start off awkwardly. This is so far out of my comfort zone. Not just the spider web of feelings complicating my life, but asking anyone for advice. I’ve given plenty of it, but I’m not used to needing it. “There’s this girl.”
He leans against the wood bar and smiles. “I never thought I’d see the day when the boss himself would need advice from one of us lowly tenders.”
“This was a shit idea. Get the whiskey. I can tell I’m going to need it.”
While he pours me a glass, I say, “I wouldn’t come to just anyone. I’m coming to you because you’ve had long-term relationships and one broken engagement. I don’t think the other guys know the names of half the women they sleep with, so you’re the chosen one.”
“I’m honored.” He pushes the glass toward me.
After shooting the amber liquid, I set the glass down, and say, “I met her here.”
“Whoa!” His body jerks as if he’s been hit in the chest. “You live by two rul—”
“I know. That’s why I can’t wrap my head around what’s going on. I have,” I start to say, but pause, not believing that I’m about to say it out loud for the first time.
“You have what?”
“Feelings.”
“Holy shit, Hardy. How’d that happen? Is she hot?”
“So hot. Wet dreams hot. And I really have no fucking clue how this happened.” I rub my temples. “One minute I was kissing her leading into more, and then the next she’s telling me she’s a virgin and I’m offering to dance with her instead.”
“Instead of what?” he asks shocked.
“Sex.”
“What the fuck? You passed up sex with her because she was a virgin?” Now he’s rubbing his temples as if he can’t comprehend this actually happening.
“I wasn’t going to fuck her for the first time on a desk. She deserves better than that.”
“I get that, but wow. I’m seriously impressed with your restraint.” Resting his hands wide on the bar, he asks, “Maybe you have feelings for her because she’s a virgin.”
“No, I almost find that aspect more intimidating. I mean really. When was the last time you were with a virgin?”
“Last week.”
He answers so casually that I make sure I heard right. “You were?”
“Sure. So I get what you’re saying. You can’t just bend them over and have them begging for more when they’re virgins.”
“Exactly. Virginia deserves romance. She deserves to be wooed into bed and then made love to.”
“Let me get this straight. She’s a hot virgin named Virginia?”
“The irony wasn’t lost on me either. Anyway, I haven’t been with a virgin in a long time. Those aren’t the typical women I hook up with.”“You’re overthinking it. All they want is to be made love to. Once you get that first time out of the way, it’s like they’re making up for lost time. I’m fucking exhausted. We’ve been going at it three times, sometimes up to five times a day since I popped that cherry.”
I stand up and take a step back. “We might have crossed that line of what I need and what I don’t need to know.”
Romeo laughs. “We got off track, but if you have feelings for her, even developing ones that you aren’t ready to admit to, you owe it to yourself to see if something’s there. I know you live by your two rules and they’ve served you well, but maybe it’s time to see if there’s something more with this girl.”
“Stop making so much sense. You’re supposed to be the one telling me to back as far away as I can.”
Shrugging, he says, “You don’t ever come to me for advice. These roles are usually reversed, so when you say you have feelings for a chick, I know it’s serious.” Swiping the glass he turns and sets it in the sink behind him. “Even the greatest of men eventually fall.”
“Sounds like I’m heading into battle?”
He chuckles. “The battle’s already lost, my friend. It’s time to raise that surrender flag and give love a chance.”
I roll my eyes. “You always were a sap.”
“A sap in love. Takes one to know one.”
“I’m not in love,” I mumble while walking to the office.
Behind me, he calls out, “Keep telling yourself that.”
I will. Oh, I will.
Chapter Ten
The seed has been planted, and now it’s growing. As if from sheer will and want, it’s branching out beyond a thought. It has bloomed into action.
I slide my hand out from under the Tequila Sunrise sitting in front of me.
No one has to know.
No strings attached.
Sex for no other reason than to feel good.
We’d walk away with our loads lightened. Literally and figuratively.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m working.” I’m not lying, I do appreciate the offer, but I am working. And saving my break time for Virginia.
“You sure. I could really use the company.”
Under any other circumstances, I’d take her into the back without hesitation. Curves to kill. Blond hair pulled back into a ponytail begging to be pulled harder. Lips that had to be injected they were so full—ready to lick. Ready to suck. Fuck. She’s a flight attendant on a layover, for Christ’s sake. “I’m sure, but I’ll buy your drink.” It was the least I could do.
“Thank you, but I would have preferred a good time. Maybe next time I’m in town.”
“Stop by.”
I watch as she walks to the door and disappears into the night—lonely and horny. “Fuck.”
Eddie asks, “What’s up?”
“Did you see the blonde?”
“Couldn’t miss her. Gorgeous.”
“I just turned her down.”
“Are you sick? Not feeling well?”
“I’m starting to wonder that myself.”
He says, “More importantly, why didn’t you introduce me?”
“Because she wanted a man, not a boy.”
“Speaking of, how’s the de-virgining going? Or would it be un-virgining?”
“Romeo has a big fucking mouth.”
Eddie is laughing too hard to notice I’m not. He finally says, “I think he was in too much shock to keep it to himself. None of us has ever seen you have genuine feelings for a woman. He needed to talk to someone.”
Another eye roll hits. “Who’d you tell?”
“Me?” he asks all innocently. “Only Clive.”
Closing my eyes, I shake my head. “Fuck, now everyone will know.”
“He said he’d keep it on the down low. About down lows, does she?”
I send him a harsh glare. When I don’t respond, he keeps chattering, and I wonder if he’d keep going even if I wasn’t here. Eddie’s the most personable bartender here. The ladies love him because he charms them with stories, keeping them entertained and laughing. He rakes in the tips and I rake in the money. Laughter is like an aphrodisiac. The guy scores almost as much as Romeo.
“The floor behind the bar needs mopping. Keep rattling on like that and you’ll have yourself a new job.”
He’s still laughing as he starts cutting limes. I head to the office to pass time until Virginia shows up, annoyed with these guys.
* * *
Not sure how long I’m in the back balancing the books, but when I hear a knock, I look up surprised by the sound. “Come in.”
I’m greeted with green eyes and long hair, jeans and sneakers under a navy blue puffy coat that hides her figure. I decide to greet her a little differently, taking full advantage of our arrangement. Meeting her just inside the door, I shut it and lean over. Lifting her chin, I kiss her without reservation, just the way I’ve
wanted to kiss her since that first night.
When I pull back, her eyes are closed, her hands on my chest, and she leans her forehead against me. “What was that for?”“Lesson two.” I lie, something I’m becoming too good at when I’m around her.
Leaning against the door, she smiles. “I think I’m going to like lesson two.”
“I’ve got thirty minutes.”
Her arms go around my neck. “Let’s not waste a second.” She lifts up and presses her lips to mine.
Angling my head, I capture her lips more fully with mine, parting them just enough to get a taste of her forbidden heaven. After she told me she had a crush on that asshole, I didn’t think I’d get this chance again. It’s crazy that I do, so like she said, I’m not going to waste a second. Weaving my hands into her hair, I hold her to me as our mouths part, need and instinct trumping slow and steady.
My body presses against hers and she moves against mine. Hands find my middle and tighten. A soft, kitten like moan is swallowed when it transfers from her to me. I tilt her head to the side and my mouth trails over her cheek, jaw, and then lower to her neck. But the hood of her coat blocks the access I need. Pulling away, my breath comes hard, hers matching mine as we stare into each other’s eyes. I say, “I want your coat off.”
Snaps fly open before I finish my demand. I take the zipper pull under her chin and drag it slowly down over her chest, letting my knuckles graze her chest. Her T-shirt is soft and no barrier is felt. Shit. I look down quickly, holding her coat open at the top. “Are you wearing a bra?”
Her tongue slips out, wetting her lips. Holy fuck. Kissing. Lesson two is kissing. Only kissing. “Nope.”
That damn pop of the P drives me wild. I cup her face and am about to devour her delicious lips, but stop just when ours meet. “You’re a damn temptress, but so damn innocent at the same time. How are you so perfect?” Unicorn.
Giggling, her body shakes, her eyes are alight, all the stars in the night sky caught inside. “I think I could argue that perfect part.” When I have a hold of my hormones, I release her and stand back, giving her room to breathe. Her mouth twists and then she says, “I think a few past boyfriends could argue that as well.”