Yours Truly

by Jen Meyers

  He shook his head. “This isn’t the surprise.”

  “It’s not?”

  “I mean, it’s a surprise…but it’s not the thing I want to show you.” His face lit up, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, like a little kid who could barely contain his excitement. “Nope, we’re still on for Sunday.”

  I smiled, watching him, then looked back down at the desk. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  He shrugged, traced one line across the top of the desk with his fingers. “You used your desk all the time, right?” he said, and I nodded. “So…you needed a desk.”

  “Josh, it’s just…” Too much? Too sweet? Too close?

  “Besides, you need a place to write the book about me.” He grinned. “I don’t want the lack of desk stopping you from turning me into your next leading man.”

  “Oh,” I said, nodding. “So, THAT’s what this is about.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get a book.” I shook my head wistfully. “I just can’t guarantee if you’ll like how Fictional Josh turns out. It all depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how much you inspire me.”

  One eyebrow raised, he took a step toward me, a predatory look on his face that sent my heart racing. And then another and another until he was only a breath away. He leaned down, his lips almost brushing my ear, and said, “How’s this?”

  His breath kissed my neck, the skin aching for the touch of his lips, and all I could think about was that kiss in his kitchen, and how much I wanted him to kiss me again. I turned my head slightly toward him, bringing our lips closer together. All I needed to do was lean toward him just a bit…

  No, I reminded myself. I didn’t want this. Couldn’t have it. No matter how good that kiss had been.

  Instead, I moved toward his ear, and said quietly, “I’d be much more inspired if the desk was inside my apartment.”

  “You wouldn’t be saying that if I was wearing my tool belt,” he said, his voice low and husky.

  “Perhaps…” I tilted my head to one side, looking longingly into his eyes, then nodded my head at my door. “…but alas, you are not.”

  Laughing, he walked back over to it.

  “If you hold the door open, I can carry it in.” He grabbed the two sides of the top, his arms stretched wide, the muscles lengthening along them. Words and phrases popped into my mind, descriptions I would use for his book. I tried to hold onto them until I could get to my little scratch pad inside and jot them down.

  With more ease and grace than I thought possible, Josh carried the desk into my living room and sat it where the other desk had been. It looked beautiful there, late afternoon sun streaming in through the window made it glow like a gift from the gods.

  Josh was lit with the same warm light, his sun-kissed hair lit up as if he wore a halo.

  I snorted at my own thoughts. Josh an angel? Come to save me?

  Puh-lease.

  Get a grip, Will. I didn’t need anyone to save me. Never had, never would. He’d made me a desk. It was amazing and wonderful, and part of me wanted nothing more than to rip his clothes off and show him just how much I appreciated it.

  But the smart part of me said instead, “Can I make you dinner? As a thank you.”

  A slow smile spread across his face—the sun’s light was no match for his own inner glow when he smiled like that—and my breath caught. He was beautiful. There was no denying it. And again, my heart did this little staccato beat thing that felt so right with Josh, but which I knew was so wrong.

  I swallowed hard, pulling my bottom lip in between my teeth and biting, willing the pain to clear my head.

  “Dinner sounds great,” he said, but then pointed at my door. “I’m going to go shower. Wash off the workshop smell.”

  Watching him leave, I sent up a little prayer that he wouldn’t wash it all away. Then pinched myself for thinking it.

  “Don’t be stupid, Will,” I muttered, and picked up my phone as I headed into the kitchen.

  ME: Josh made me a desk.

  HARMONY: That is the sweetest thing ever. Why aren’t you dating him?

  BLISS: Or banging him. Or both.

  LUCKY: He sure sounds like a keeper to me.

  SUMMER: You think every guy is a keeper.

  LUCKY: I DO NOT.

  EVER: He made you a desk? Like just showed up with it?

  ME: Just now. It’s amazing. Take a look.

  Walking back into the living room, I took a picture and sent it to them.

  SUMMER: Holy.

  HARMONY: Wow.

  LUCKY: That’s gorgeous, Will. Does he do commissions?

  ME: Yup. But this desk…it’s…

  EVER: Too much?

  ME: Feels that way. I don’t know what to do.

  BLISS: One word: Jump. Him. (Or I will.)

  LUCKY: You will do no such thing, Bliss. Josh is Will’s.

  ME: He is NOT mine.

  BLISS: So I can have a go?

  ME: No. I like Josh. And I’ve seen what you do to guys.

  BLISS: Hey, they have a good time.

  HARMONY: While it lasts. Remember Pete? He still asks about you, hoping you’ll change your mind. It’s so sad.

  BLISS: Ooooh, Pete. He WAS fun. Maybe I’ll just…

  SUMMER: NO.

  LUCKY: Don’t you dare.

  EVER: You can’t!

  HARMONY: That’s it, I’m telling him you died.

  BLISS: FINE. Geez, you guys. I’m not THAT bad.

  EVER: Yes, you are. But let’s get back to Will and Josh.

  ME: You sure? Because I can wait. It’s not like I texted you guys for help. Oh, wait…

  BLISS: Haha. So…why aren’t you happy about the desk?

  ME: It’s not that. I love it. But it’s a LOT, you know? And it feels like things are changing between us and I can’t go there with him. I love him too much.

  LUCKY: You LOVE him?!

  ME: As a FRIEND. Like I love you guys.

  HARMONY: Are you sure that’s *all* you feel? Maybe you should meditate on it.

  SUMMER: Does he feel more?

  LUCKY: He melted her panties off with that kiss and just made her a stunning piece of furniture. I think it’s pretty clear.

  ME: That’s what I’m afraid of.

  I put my phone down and started pulling things out of the fridge.

  It was messing me up, whatever was going on with Josh. It felt like I was desperately moving against a tide of feelings I didn’t want to be having, trying to preserve our relationship as it was.

  But the thing about going against the tide? The longer you do it, the more it wears you down until you can’t fight it any longer.

  eighteen

  Travis had his phone to his ear, standing on the sidewalk outside the Plaza as my taxi came to a stop. With perfect timing, he turned to see me emerge, his face lighting up with a huge smile as he took me in.

  The rich royal-blue silk fabric of my gown clung to my slight curves—if you could call them that—and shimmered all the way to the ground. The fabric sparkled like the night sky. My hair was pulled up in a French twist, with little tendrils hanging down like curled copper ribbons. I felt glamorous and sexy as his eyes roamed over me, and my body started to hum in all the right places—especially where there were no panties.

  I was SO getting lucky tonight.

  He stared at me a moment, the phone migrating away from his ear, then he gave himself a little shake. “I’m sorry,” he said into the phone, his eyes locked on me, “but I’m gonna have to get back to you…later.” His arm was already lowering the phone. “Much, MUCH later.” Sliding it into his pocket, he smoothly stepped next to me, slipping his arm around my waist. “Will.” He breathed my name quietly next to my ear. “You look stunning.”

  He did, too, truth be told. The clean lines of his black tux only emphasized his broad shoulders as it tapered down to slim hips. The deeply tanned skin of his face stood in stark
contrast to his white-toothed grin, and all I could think was Suh-WOON. With his dark hair smoothed back and a body to kill for, Travis was the epitome of The Hot Guy.

  He was SO getting lucky tonight, too.

  My smug little internal voice said Josh? Josh who?

  “Shall we?” he said as his hand lightly touched the small of my back, guiding me inside.

  In my three years in New York, I’d never actually been inside the Plaza before, and I felt overwhelmed, out of my league in the midst of all that opulence. The place oozed with wealth, and I couldn’t help but think Lucky would have been much better suited to this date than I was.

  As Travis went to check my wrap, I quickly tapped out a text.

  ME: OMG, this place.

  LUCKY: The Plaza? I know. Gorgeous, isn’t it? I love when events are held there.

  ME: Wish you were here. It would have been fun, and you could meet Travis.

  LUCKY: Me, too. But I have yet to master being in two places at once. So.

  ME: There are a TON of eligible men here. Just think…you could have been engaged again by the end of the night! If only you’d come.

  LUCKY: You did NOT just say that to me.

  ME: And yet…I totally did. But you know it was said with love.

  LUCKY: So is this: Shut. Up. Also…have a good time tonight. I expect details tomorrow!

  “You ready?” Travis was suddenly by my side again, holding an arm out for me, and I quickly hid my phone in my hand.

  We walked into the Grand Ballroom, and I couldn’t contain my gasp. The immense room was all white and gold, arches and columns. Delicate gold leaves flew above our heads, suspended from the high carved ceiling with invisible strings. A dance floor spread out at one end of the room, with an orchestra already playing just beyond it. Amidst the sea of black tuxedos and mostly black ball gowns, my dress stood out like a sapphire amongst obsidian.

  A man could easily disappear here. But I couldn’t.

  I was suddenly doubting my choice of dress.

  “A drink?” Travis said. “What would you like? Champagne?”

  “Sure,” I said, wishing I could get a beer instead. But this wasn’t a beer kind of event. Suddenly, I would have given almost anything to be up on my roof instead.

  Breathe, Will. I was fine. I could handle this. I just needed to look at it as research. If I wrote a column about Travis—which was looking doubtful because, just like Mary Poppins, he was Practically Perfect in Every Way—then I could use details from tonight to set the scene. Or I could use it in a book. Maybe even stick my Josh character at a swanky event like this.

  I smiled at that, suppressing a snort. Josh at something like this? All dressed up in a tux? I just couldn’t see it.

  As Travis disappeared to find the bar, I pulled out my phone.

  ME: You won’t believe where I am.

  JOSH: Sure I would. Try me.

  ME: Sitting amongst the Richie Riches of NYC at the Plaza. This place is surreal.

  JOSH: Met any good column candidates yet?

  ME: Nope. But, you know, I’m already here with a date. No need to hunt. YET.

  JOSH: Well, keep your eyes open. Though it might be hard to tell them apart with all the tuxes.

  ME: Right? You guys have it so easy, but you’re really hard to find in a fancy crowd.

  JOSH: You, however, are very easy to spot. Blue suits you.

  I stared at my phone for a moment, then my head shot up and I scanned the room, looking for him as I laughed.

  ME: Where the hell are you?

  “Language, Will. A lady of society doesn’t use vulgarities.” Josh’s voice was in my ear and I jumped.

  And he was there, standing before me, dressed in a tux that looked as if it were tailored to fit his body, and his body only. My eyes traveled the length of him and then back up, and for a moment I couldn’t remember my date’s name.

  Or mere existence.

  “Whoa,” I said, pressing one hand to my chest. “This changes everything.”

  Bemused, he said, “What do you mean?”

  “Now I can’t decide between the tool belt and the tux.”

  Blue eyes laughing, Josh grinned at me, then held out his hand. “May I have this dance?” he said.

  I glanced around worriedly. “Travis went to the bar, I’m sure he’ll be back—”

  “Not for a while,” Josh said, nodding over toward the bar. I searched the black-clad men and finally found Travis deep in conversation with a group of guys. “Trust me. You’ll be lucky if he remembers to come back in the next twenty minutes. The guy is all about business.”

  “Sounds like you know him.”

  He nodded. “We go way back.” His hand was still waiting for me to take it. “So we have time. Dance with me?”

  Placing my hand in his, I let him lead me toward the dance floor. “Do you even know how to waltz or tango or whatever it is they’re doing out here?” People were gliding gracefully across the floor, and I was suddenly feeling very self-conscious about getting out there. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Josh.”

  I tried to pull my hand away, but he just spun me into his arms, and held my body against his.

  “Relax, Will. I’ll lead, you follow. You’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not very good at following,” I muttered, glancing around at the other couples.

  “Hey,” Josh said, and I looked up at him. “Trust me, okay?” He started to move us, guiding me through the dance. A couple of initial stumbles, and I was getting the rhythm and movements, feeling where he was going next, and matching him move for move.

  All while pressed close against him. Which I’d been completely unfocused on while concentrating on the dance, but now that I mostly had it, I was more and more aware of the feel of his body against mine.

  Hard against soft.

  Josh against me.

  My body started humming on a totally different frequency than earlier—higher, tighter, more honed. The more I felt him pressed against me, the faster my heart beat, the more my whole body surged with electricity. It flowed through me, tingling from the tips of my fingers clasped in his warm hand to my slowly numbing toes.

  His eyes locked with mine and our bodies moved as one, slowly, sensuously, as if we were making love on the dance floor. It was without a doubt one of the most erotic experiences of my life.

  Music swelling, I lost all sense of the world around us. There was only Josh. I abandoned any measure of control and simply followed where he led me. It felt both foreign and familiar.

  And right.

  It felt right—god, SO right—to be there in his arms, moving together. Letting him sweep me across the dance floor, spin me under the sparkling chandelier, and then press me firmly against his body again.

  “The way you look tonight…” He breathed out, looking like he was at a loss for words. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, Willow Truly.”

  “Not true.” My voice was hoarse, and I had to work to keep it steady. “I saw supermodels when I walked in.”

  He shook his head. “I only saw you.”

  I watched the words tumble off his lips, wishing I could scoop them up and tuck them into my pocket, keep them forever. Then I took a deep breath, not sure how to answer. I mean, what do you say to that? Especially when it’s spoken by someone you’re trying very hard not to fall for.

  I was supposed to be forgetting Josh, reigning in those unwanted feelings deep inside that were perilously close to breaching the well-constructed walls of my self-preservation. My body couldn’t contain them, couldn’t hold them in the longer I stayed in his arms.

  The music came to an end, and while the couples around us separated and applauded the orchestra, Josh and I stayed locked in place, neither of us letting go of the other, neither of us looking away.

  His eyes were an intense ocean blue, searching mine for answers I didn’t know if I had. My gaze lowered to his lips and I shivered at the memory of his kiss, feeling the ech
o of it ripple through me again.

  And again.

  My whole body ached for him, and I wanted nothing more than to stay by his side the whole night. Even though it went against my whole plan, everything I believed, and everything I knew to be true.

  His hand pressed into my lower back, pulling me even tighter against him for a moment, then he cleared his throat.

  “Looks like your date is looking for you.”

  For a moment I had no idea what he was talking about, then my brain clicked into gear. Travis. I was here with Travis. I turned to see him heading back to our table with two champagne flutes in his hands.

  Josh released me and empty air rushed in to take his place.

  Wrong. This felt decidedly wrong, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything but stare at him, everything inside me at war.

  He gave me a smile, dragged his finger up my bare arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Then he leaned in close one last time and spoke quietly next to my ear.

  “Thanks for the dance, Will.”

  I felt the warm, soft brush of his lips against mine for a brief second, then he took a few steps back and disappeared into the sea of black and white.

  Seriously. I blinked and he was gone.

  Up on tiptoes, I searched for his messy, blond-streaked hair, but there were too many of them, and I couldn’t pick him out from the crowd.

  I would have been relieved—I SHOULD have been relieved—but this great sense of disappointment had settled over me, making it impossible for me to feel anything else.

  Travis was almost back to our table and was starting to look around for me. I slipped back through the crowd toward him even as I had my phone out and was texting away.

  ME: You’re just going to leave me like this?

  JOSH: You have Travis.

  ME: If he abandons me all night like he just did, who’s going to entertain me? You’re not going to stay here and save me from that?

  JOSH: I thought you didn’t need saving.

  Oh, touché, Josh. Tou-fucking-ché.