by Noelle Adams
“Definitely your lecture.” He tilted his head down, waiting to see if she’d pull away, push him back.
She didn’t. “You’re a very strange man.”
“No argument here.”
Then he kissed her—the way he’d wanted to since that first night at the party six weeks ago.
She made a sound in her throat and wrapped both arms around him, immediately hot and sweet and eager. His head roared, and his body throbbed as he leaned into her, feeling the soft curves and firm contours of her body against his. She moved her mouth against his until both his lips were cradling her upper one, and he couldn’t keep his tongue still. He slid it against the crease between her lips until she opened for him. Then his tongue was all the way inside her mouth.
He was deep.
Arousal pulsed painfully at the front of his trousers, and he realized he was rubbing himself against her middle.
He was out of control. Completely.
If he could, he would take her right now, right here.
He wouldn’t be able to stop.
It made no sense, and his need for it was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.
The fear was enough to distract him.
This wasn’t staying on the surface. This wasn’t keeping his life under control the way he always had before. This wasn’t taking the easy way—the way that wasn’t going to hurt him.
Nothing about Liz would ever be easy.
Or safe.
He wanted this so much, but he wasn’t sure the person who was feeling so deeply was... him.
At least not the him he’d always been.
He pulled back slightly, trying to catch his breath and clear his mind.
Liz panted and clung to him, her cheeks red and her eyes wild but a knowing smile on her full lips. “That’s what I thought.”
“What is?”
“That you’re afraid to really let yourself go.”
“What do you think I just did?”
“You let yourself go a little, but then you stopped yourself from going too far.”
“You wanted to do more than kiss right here, right now?”
Liz laughed. She was obviously aroused too, but she was a lot more composed than he was. “No. That probably would have been a bad idea. But that’s not really the point.”
He was confused. Befuddled. He didn’t know what was happening. “What’s the point?”
“The point is that you just stopped yourself from letting go, the way you always do. There are no stakes here. Anything between us would just be physical, casual. Both of us know that. But you won’t even fully let yourself go when there aren’t any stakes. One day you’re going to have to admit that your mom and I are right about you. And then what will you do?”
He stared at her, completely dumbfounded by her words, how far they pierced his heart. And he hadn’t pulled himself together—not even close—when she was turning her back to him, walking away.
She was leaving him, as if what had just happened between them hadn’t rocked her completely, the way it had him.
Maybe it hadn’t.
She’d assumed there could never be anything serious between them. Nothing any deeper than their physical bodies.
Maybe he was in this thing a lot deeper than she was.
He couldn’t let it remain that way.
Six
WHEN LIZ GOT HOME A few hours later, Jane and Em were sitting on the terrace, drinking coffee and eating pastries Em had brought over. Anne was out of town on a business trip, or she probably would have been over there too.
Normally this would have been good news to Liz since she loved hanging out and eating tasty treats, but she was in an emotional flurry from the kiss with Vince, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hide it from the others.
She wasn’t sure why she even wanted to.
She wasn’t in the habit of keeping secrets from Jane and Em.
Vince had gotten her all topsy-turvy.
“Come on out!” Em called, when Liz walked in and put down her bag and the painted wooden box she’d bought for herself at the sale. “I ordered from Stella’s.”
Stella’s—a local bakery and sandwich shop—didn’t usually make deliveries on Saturday mornings, but they made an exception for Em.
Everyone made exceptions for Em.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Liz called back, going to the bathroom and then washing her face and hands in an attempt to refresh herself and cool down.
She stared at herself in the mirror, breathing deeply. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyes looked too wild. Waves of hair and flyaways were coming out of her ponytail.
Jane and Em were going to know something had happened.
They’d know as soon as they saw her.
She composed her face and went out to the terrace, hoping for the best.
“What in the world happened?” Em demanded, putting down the last bite of the chocolate croissant she’d been eating.
“Nothing. Just a lot of hassle at the sale.” Liz was pleased with the casualness of her tone. She poured the remainder of the coffee in the french press into an empty mug, took an orange scone from the box in the middle of the table, and sat down next to her sister.
Both Jane and Em were staring at her fixedly.
“What?” she asked, giving blithe ignorance one more try.
They didn’t answer. Just waited.
“Oh fine!” Liz rolled her eyes and then leaned over to peer at the next-door terrace. It looked like the french doors leading out to it from Vince and Charlie’s unit were closed, but she wanted to make sure before she started talking.
“They’re not home,” Jane said quietly.
“Now tell us,” Em added.
Liz rolled her eyes again before she announced, “I kissed Vince this morning.”
The response to that claim was every bit as dramatic as she’d imagined. Em squealed and clapped her hands, and Jane gasped, covering her mouth with one hand.
“Tell us everything,” Em said.
“I don’t even know how it happened. He was at the estate sale early again, and we talked some, and then we looked around, and then we were in the basement, and then he was suddenly kissing me.”
“So he kissed you first?” Jane asked.
“Yes. Of course. I never would have kissed him since I’m not even sure I like him. But I did... I guess I did kiss him back.”
Em leaned forward. “And how was it?”
“It was... It was good.”
“What did he say afterward?”
“I don’t know. He pulled away after we’d... we’d kissed for a while. And I said something casual. And then I left.”
“So he didn’t say anything at all?” Jane’s voice was gentler than Em’s, but she looked just as invested in the questioning.
“Oh. Yeah. He did. He said something about how we couldn’t do more than kissing where we were—which was obviously true.”
“So it sounded like he wanted to do it again?” Em asked.
“I don’t know. And the truth is I’m not sure it matters if he wants to do it again. I’m not sure I want him to do it again.” She could see the question on Em’s face, so she forestalled it with an answer. “It was good. A really good kiss. And I was as into it as he was. I know doing more would be... fun. But I have to really think through whether I’d want to just play around like that. I’m not against casual sex. I’d just have to be really sure I was fine with a casual thing before I did anything else.” She hated admitting this last thing—even to herself—but she wasn’t going to let herself fall into a situation where she wanted more from a relationship than Vince could give.
Jane reached over to pat her arm in a comforting gesture. “So you think all he wants is casual?”
“I have no idea what he wants, but I think right now he’s only capable of being casual. He’s pretty much admitted it to me. He doesn’t go deep. And obviously I wouldn’t want to go deep with him anyway. He’s n
ot my type, and I’m not sure I even like him. But I just don’t want to get tangled up in a complicated mess, just because I find him so hot.” She shifted in her seat, suddenly self-conscious about the admission. “If you know what I mean.”
“Of course we know what you mean. And that sounds like a very wise and mature thing to do.” There was a quiver in Em’s voice, although her big hazel eyes were wide and sincere. “Don’t let his hotness convince you to do something stupid.”
“Unless you really want to,” Jane added. “Maybe he wants to go deep too—for the first time.”
“No. He’s not going to do that. Guys don’t change overnight, you know.” Liz was feeling better now that she’d talked things through. Not quite so emotionally upended. “Hot sex is hot sex, and it could be exactly what I need. But I have to be sure it’s what I really want. Anyway, he’s the one who pulled back from it, so he might have just got caught up in the moment. He might not want anything more from me.”
“Maybe you can leave it open,” Jane put in. “Just to see what he wants to do. And what you want to do.”
“There’s nothing in the world wrong with having a little fun with a hot guy, as long as you’re honest with each other,” Em added.
“I know. I’ll think about it and see what happens.” She decided it was time to change the subject since she was feeling too exposed. Vulnerable. “Now tell me about you, Jane. How did things go with Charlie last night?”
Charlie had taken Jane to dinner and the grocery store last night. Another outing under the guise of being helpful.
“It was good.”
“He still hasn’t asked you out for real?” Liz asked.
Em shook her head. “That’s what we were just talking about when you came in. He hasn’t asked her out for real. He hasn’t kissed her or anything.”
“I’m starting to think he just wants to be friends.” Jane’s eyes were downcast, but her expression was composed. “Which is fine. I’m happy to have him as a friend.”
“There’s no reason to assume that. It’s been only a couple of months since his breakup. He might just need more time,” Em said. “He might want to take it slow.”
“Or maybe he just wants to be friends.” Jane shrugged. “I’m fine if that’s what he wants.”
“No, you’re not. Maybe you should just kiss him,” Em suggested.
“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Liz said. “She needs to let him know for sure she’s interested.”
“It’s not my way.” Jane fiddled with her coffee cup.
“I know. But I’ve told you before. Guys tend to be wusses. Not many of them will pursue someone if they don’t get a lot of encouragement.”
“I say yes to everything he asks me!” Jane’s voice was more vehement than normal. “How much more encouragement does he need?”
“He needs more,” Em said, sounding dry and ironic and experienced, although she’d had no romantic relationships in her life that had lasted more than a month. “Guys always need more. And I’m telling you that you need to seal the deal with him soon. He’s cute and nice and loaded. Girls are always chasing him down. You’re not going to find a guy like him again—one you can get along with and whose family can bail your family out of your... financial issues. Don’t let him get away.”
“Don’t make it sound so mercenary,” Jane objected. “I’m not like that.”
“Of course not.” Em’s hazel eyes sparkled with wry humor. Both Jane and Liz knew she was teasing and didn’t actually think Jane was interested in Charlie for his family’s money. “You’re not after a guy for his money. You’re just after a guy who happens to have it. Nothing wrong with that.”
THAT EVENING, VINCE was in a bad mood because he couldn’t get Liz out of his mind.
Or his body.
He was on edge. Still pulsing with energy, interest, a low-level arousal. Like his body knew something needed to happen and it wasn’t going to let him relax until it did.
He didn’t like feeling that way. He didn’t like feeling like a part of himself was out of control. It caused a knot to tighten in his gut. The one that reminded him of Georgie.
The one that sparked that lingering fear that things were getting too serious, too dangerous.
And it was worse because Liz didn’t appear to be in the same emotional place.
It affected his mood.
He and Charlie were hanging out, watching a baseball game on TV and eating pizza, but Vince kept snapping at his friend.
He couldn’t seem to stop himself.
After a couple of hours, Charlie finally said, “Damn it, man! If you want to be by yourself, just say so.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Just in a foul mood. Sorry.”
“Is there any reason for your mood?”
Vince and Charlie weren’t prone to having heart-to-hearts, so Charlie’s question was mostly casual.
Vince shrugged it off. “Just one of those days. What about you? Anything happening with Jane?” The question was offhand, but it made Vince feel strange and awkward, especially after the snippet of a conversation he’d overheard from the women on the terrace as he was getting back home that morning. Maybe they’d been joking. Surely they’d been joking. Surely Jane wasn’t going after Charlie for his money.
Some people did that, sure. But he hadn’t thought Jane seemed the type.
He’d only heard a few sentences, and the voices had been muffled by the closed doors, so it was entirely possible he wasn’t getting the full context.
He hoped so.
“Not really,” Charlie said. “I’m hoping she likes me, but she’s kind of hard to read. I’ve been taking it slow anyway—to make sure I’m over what happened with Melanie.”
Vince felt another prickle of worry. “Taking it slow is smart. If you don’t think she likes you in the same way you like her, then it might be smart to give her a little space.”
Charlie frowned, his open face uncharacteristically glum. “You think she doesn’t like me?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve looked and I don’t...” Vince decided to just say it. He’d already wondered if Charlie’s interest might be one-sided, and the piece of conversation he’d overheard seemed to confirm it. “I don’t see any clear signs of it. Usually women will let you know if they’re interested, and she acts kind of standoffish.”
Charlie slumped back against the couch, rubbing his face with both hands. “That’s what I was afraid of. I’m so out of practice at this. Melanie was the only woman I’ve ever...”
His breakup with Melanie had hit him hard. Vince wasn’t about to let his friend get into a new relationship that would hurt him even worse.
“I’m not saying give up. You can give it a little more time. But I don’t want you to get hurt if she’s... not in the same place you are. Maybe back off a bit and see if she makes a move to get closer. That might make it clear if she’s really interested.”
“Yeah.”
Vince felt like shit when he saw his friend’s expression, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do.
If there was something he could do to help Charlie, he was going to do it. Even if it hurt.
He hadn’t done enough to help Georgie, back when there might have been something he could have done.
He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
LATER THAT NIGHT, VINCE lay in his bed, trying to go to sleep. Trying not to think about Liz.
She’d said he couldn’t let go, that he couldn’t open up to real feelings.
She’d acted like he was incapable of it instead of it being his own choice.
He kept replaying the conversation in his head. All the conversations he’d ever had with her.
His body was hot and aroused, even as that knot tightened in his gut again.
He shouldn’t be capable of feeling both of them at once.
He didn’t want to feel both.
Lus
t was easy. He was used to it.
But all this other stuff complicated the hot rush of arousal.
Maybe she and his mother were right. He couldn’t do anything deeper than the surface. He should just let it go and be the man he’d always been.
But he didn’t want it.
He wanted more.
Bigger.
Stronger.
Deeper.
Why the hell shouldn’t he try it?
He didn’t like the idea that he wasn’t capable of doing something he wanted to do.
He sat up straight in bed, breathing fast and hard and sweating just slightly.
Then he made his decision.
If it was nothing more than casual, then he could at least enjoy some hot sex.
And if it was more—if it could be more—he wanted to find out.
He jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes, left his condo, and walked one door over to bang on Liz’s door.
LIZ WAS GETTING READY for bed—putting a few stray dishes in the dishwasher and turning out the lights in the great room—when she heard the knock on the door.
It was after midnight.
No one should be coming over at this time.
Something must be wrong.
Her first thought was for Em. Maybe her father was sick or had fallen. She ran to the door quickly and flung it open.
Not Em.
Vince.
Standing in the hallway. Wearing nothing but a pair of black sleep pants. Bare chest. Bare feet. Rumpled hair. Five-o’clock shadow. Strangely urgent gray eyes.
“What are you—”
“You’re wrong,” he interrupted abruptly.
She blinked. “What?” Before he opened his mouth to talk again, she made a shushing gesture and glanced behind her to the stairs that led up to Jane’s bedroom. “Keep your voice down. Jane is already asleep. Now what the hell has gotten into you?”
“You’re wrong,” he said again, stepping into the entryway when Liz moved out of the doorway.
“I’m not wrong.” Her first response was automatic. A reflex. Then she frowned and added, “What am I wrong about?”