by R. C. Martin
“Dude, you’re staring,” says Sage, nudging me with his elbow.
I pull in a deep breath, scrubbing my hand down my face as I look away from Sarah. She’s sitting at a table, her legs folded up against her chest, her chin resting on top of her knees, her eyes glued to her tablet.
“Not that she would notice. She hardly looks up from that thing.”
I lift an eyebrow at him before I point out, “Spoken like someone who stares.”
He shrugs with a smirk. “She's hot.” I scowl at him, unappreciative of his admission. “Chill, man! I'm simply stating the obvious,” he insists lifting his hands in surrender.
I relax my face, not the least bit apologetic for my unspoken warning. If I can't have her, neither can he. Or anyone else, for that matter. I know that makes me sound like a possessive prick, but I can't stand the thought of her belonging to someone else.
“What do you think she's reading, anyway?” he asks, seemingly unscathed by my behavior.
“I don't know,” I say as I begin to make my way from behind the counter. I need another smile, and I intend to get one. “But I'm going to find out.”
She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing, she doesn’t notice my approach. When I snatch her yellow covered device from out of her hands, she gasps—her eyes opening wide in surprise. I smile at her as she jumps to her feet and then look to see what’s got her so captivated.
“Brandon! OhmygodBrandon, give that back!” She tugs on my arm, causing the screen to be pulled out of focus. I simply switch hands, her adamancy heightening my intrigue. “Shit—Brandon! Please. C’mon. I’m serious—give it back!”
My eyes scan the page and the words wet pussy stand out like a neon sign. My eyebrows shoot up as I grin down at her, equally shocked and amused. “Why, Sarah—what do we have here?”
“Don’t you dare judge me—and give that back!” She reaches for it, but I lift it above my head.
“Judge you? Of course not,” I assure her, holding back a laugh. “But it’s not nice to keep this all to yourself.”
“Oh. Just great. Now you’re laughing at me. Give it back, or I swear—” Her threat is left unspoken. When she lunges at me, I wrap my free arm around her, pinning her to my chest. She braces her hands around my waist as she tries to push away from me, but I’m stronger than she is.
With Sarah locked in one place, I lower her tablet until I can make out the words on her current page. In the scene, some guy is fucking his girl. With his tongue. She likes it. A lot.
Sarah squirms in another failed attempt to escape from my grasp. All at once my cock is ready, waiting, and wanting. As if I’m waking from a dream instead of falling into one, the feel of her hands against my sides makes my heart race. The floral scent of her shampoo and the fresh, sexy scent of her skin fills my lungs and turns me on even more. Suddenly, the guy in the scene is me and my tongue is exploring Sarah’s—
“Brandon,” she mumbles pathetically, burying her face in my chest as if she’s ready to claim defeat. “Please?”
The sound of her begging about kills me. I have to stifle the growl of desire that’s crawling up my throat. When I lower the tablet and look down at her, she peeks up at me from beneath her eyelashes. For a moment, neither of us moves. It takes me a second to calm down. When I’m sure I can use my voice again, I murmur, “You’re a very naughty girl, Sarah. You’re definitely coming to church with me tomorrow.”
A shy smirk pulls at her lips before she speaks. “I thought we agreed, no judging?”
“You’re reading porn. To each his own, but—”
“It’s not porn,” she states in a harsh whisper. “Sure, they have sex, but that’s only part of the story. They’re in love. Well, currently he loves her and she’s not so sure, but deep down—you know what? It doesn’t matter. The point is, it’s not porn. It’s just a love story that’s rated R. You know, for mature audiences only. If you think it’s porn, maybe you aren’t mature,” she quips.
“A love story that’s rated R?” I chuckle.
“Yes! And before I was rudely interrupted, I was getting to the good part!”
“Oh, you mean the part where she comes?”
She laughs and I swear, in this moment, she rips my heart right out of my chest and tucks it into her pocket.
“For real, though, you don’t know what you’re missing. Romance novels are amazing. Oh—” she squeezes my waist in her excitement and my dick stirs to life again. “It’s like your blueberry crumble muffins, except for my brain instead of my mouth.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Delicious and void of any nutritional value?”
“Exactly. So, can I have my Kindle back?”
Three days. I haven’t touched her in three days. I was being so damn good. I shouldn't have reached for her. Now, I know how well she tucks under my arm—how well she fits against my chest. Now, I don’t want to let her go.
“You’re coming to church with me tomorrow,” I mutter, forcing myself to pull away from her.
“Name the time and place,” she tells me, holding her hands out.
“I’ll pick you up at nine,” I reply, returning her Kindle.
She lifts an eyebrow at me. “On your bike?”
“I have a car, Sunshine. Just text me your address.”
“Deal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish this chapter.”
“As you were,” I reply with a parting wink.
Ho. Ly. Shit.
I plop back down into my chair and prop my Kindle in front of me, but I don’t read a single word. I can’t. All I can think about is the feel of his arm wrapped around me, pinning me to his chest—his warm, hard, sculpted chest. Pressed against him, it was like I was being wrapped in his very essence!
Ensconced in all things Brandon, I wanted to move my hands. I wanted to feel my way up his back and across his shoulders. I wanted to count each one of his abs—abs I’m certain exist underneath that snarky t-shirt.
Under his t-shirt…
When I buried my face into his chest, I was overcome by my desire to sink my teeth into him. I had to tell myself, repeatedly, how much of a horrible idea that was.
Fuck! Too much smut. I’ve been reading too much smut!
A stifle a giggle as I remember the moment he came and stole my Kindle right out of my hands.
Or perhaps I’m reading just enough.
My heart throws up a fist pump.
Yeah. Okay. I’m falling for my boss.
BRANDON TELLS ME TO go home at five. I ignore him and stay until seven, helping out with the baking that needs to be done for tomorrow. He practically has to shove me out the door. I acquiesce when he promises that he’ll leave promptly after closing so as not to miss too much of Mountains & Men’s set.
As soon as I get home, I hop in the shower. Unsure whether or not I should leave my hair wavy or blow dry it straight, I shoot Aria a text. There’s a knock at my door not even a minute later.
“Definitely keep it natural. Rock those beach waves, girl,” she says in place of hello. She claps her hands and then steps inside. “Now, show me your closet. You’re not leaving this apartment until you look so sexy, Brandon won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”
I laugh as I close us inside. “Since when did tonight turn into Operation Seduction?”
“Since the moment you asked me what you should do with your hair. You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t trying to impress,” she replies with a smirk. “Besides, whether you decide you want him in your pants or not, his lips have your name written all over them.”
“What about the part where he’s my boss?”
“What about the part where that’s the only legitimate excuse you’ve been able to offer me all week?” she retorts, pressing her fists against her hips. “What about the part where he’s so yummy, it’s almost a requirement that he be licked? Not once have you implied that you’re not totally interested in him. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that trumps the boss card ever
y damn day of the week—especially when you’ll be seeing him outside of work.”
I bite my lip and fold my arms across my chest. My heart wants to give Aria a high five.
Are you sure this is a good idea? Because the last time I surrendered to my attraction for a man—
My heart flips me off and I huff out a sigh and roll my eyes. “Okay. Yeah. First door on the left,” I tell her, pointing down the hallway.
Aria grabs my hand and hurries us into my bedroom. She wastes no time rifling through my closet, oohing and awwing every time she finds something she thinks has potential. Together, we decide on a pale pink cotton strapless dress. It’s simple—implying that I’m not trying too hard—but sexy—as it’s tapered at my slim waist and stops a couple inches above my knees. Aria’s assessment, of course. We pair it with a worn, fitted denim jacket and wedge sandal heels. As Aria suggested, I leave my long waves loose, allowing them to drape down my chest and back.
Trusting that I’m capable of applying just the right amount of makeup for our evening, she leaves me to it while she goes to get ready herself. I’ve always liked playing with makeup and I used to wear it more often. Since my reflection and I have been at odds all summer, I haven’t really been into it. Not to mention my new pre-dawn ritual is not conducive for such trivial attempts at beauty. Tonight is a different story. I’m going out and I intend to look the part of a girl who knows how to have fun.
I stick to natural colors, accentuated with a shimmering shade of peach, and apply the right amount of eyeliner to make my baby-blues pop. Just as I finish with my second coat of mascara, I hear the front door open, signaling Millie’s return.
I have no idea how she’s spent her Saturday. In fact, I’m not sure where she is most of the time. I’ve lived with her for a week and the only information I’ve gathered about her has been from what Aria has told me—which isn’t much. It’s true that I’ve mostly avoided her, but it actually hasn’t been that hard. Our schedules don’t mesh. When we do see each other, it’s in passing. We manage to mutter hello and goodbye and not a whole lot else. So when she stops in the bathroom doorway with a “hi” and a “you going somewhere?” it’s all I can do to keep the shock off my face.
“Yeah. Josh, Aria and I are going to The Brew Cycle. There’s a band playing tonight that I wanted to check out.”
“Oh. Cool.”
I don’t know if it’s because I’m crazy, or if it’s because I’m so impressed that we were able to exchange two sentences without any yelling, but before I can change my mind I ask, “Do you want to come?”
She stops her departure, turning back to face me. It takes her a few seconds to decide. As she stares at me, I lift my eyebrows in question. “I can be ready in ten minutes.”
“Perfect. We’re leaving in fifteen.”
Josh has volunteered to play chauffeur tonight. Aria told me he always does when they go out together. He doesn’t mind, as he chooses to be less responsible when he’s out with his guy friends. Yet another reason to add to the list of why Josh is such a great and thoughtful guy.
When they stop by to snatch me up, they’re pleasantly surprised to learn that Millie will be joining us.
“Well, aren’t you the bigger person,” Aria whispers, linking arms with me as we head for Josh’s truck.
“I figured it was the perfect opportunity to try and hit the reset button,” I reply with a shrug.
“Roommate bonding is done best over drinks. You made a smart move.”
We walk into the bar fifteen minutes before Sage and his band hit the stage. Having never been to The Brew Cycle, I find myself looking around, taking it all in. The walls are decked out in various bike paraphernalia; from bumper stickers to signed jerseys, even bicycle gears serving as decoration. At the bar, there are three New Belgium bikes hanging from the ceiling. Instead of barstools, there are old school bike seats—they even have pedals to rest your feet on.
It’s a pretty decent size place with an impressive beer tab, a generous amount of high topped tables and chairs, and a dance floor. The stage where the band will play is on the far side of the room. I know right away that I’m going to love it here. It’s rich with that Fort Collins charm that I’ve always adored.
I spot Sage getting a drink at the bar and I grab Aria’s hand, signaling for Millie to follow as we head through the crowd to greet him.
“Hey, Rockstar,” I say, tapping his shoulder.
“Sarah! You made it,” he cries, pulling me in for a friendly hug. When he steps back, he eyes me up and down—not the least bit shy about it. “Damn, babe. Remind me not to introduce you to the guys. Their girlfriends would kill me.”
I laugh and shake my head at his gross exaggeration. “I brought friends,” I announce before I make introductions.
He shakes everyone’s hand and thanks them for coming before he leans in to whisper into my ear. “Your roommate is a fox. Put in a good word for me, alright?” He grins at me before he tells us he’s got to meet up with the guys. Their set is due to start in just a few minutes.
Josh offers to buy all of us a drink. Millie orders a gin and tonic, Aria opts for a tequila sunrise, and Josh and I order a beer. He nods at me, seemingly impressed with my choice of microbrew. I smile and shrug.
I’ve always been more of a beer girl.
We find a table near the dance floor and settle in just as Mountains & Men are introduced. I check the time, noting that it’s five minutes after nine, and I can’t help but wonder if Brandon is on his way. Aria notices as I tuck my phone back into my wristlet and flashes a cheeky grin my way before leaning toward me.
“Tonight’s game plan is this—we drink and we dance! It’s up to him to do the rest. Got it?” I eye her warily and she giggles before she says, “Trust me. If he’s got half a brain, he won’t let anyone else near you tonight. Something tells me he’s got half a brain—you’re too smart to fall for anyone who doesn’t.” She nudges me playfully and I stifle a self-deprecating laugh.
She has way too much confidence in my choice of men.
Then again—I believe with my whole heart that Brandon’s a good guy, whether he wants me or not.
Two songs in, after we’ve all finished our first round, the crowd on the dance floor begins to grow. Aria suggests that we head out there. Millie is all for it, which I find both impressive and informative. Knowing I won’t be out there by myself, I step down from my chair, totally prepared to go dance like the fangirl I am—Sage sounds amazing. Before I can take a single step away from the table, Aria gasps and grabs my arm.
“He’s here!” she announces. I start to turn my head but she stops me, cupping her hand around my cheek. “No way. Don’t look. Believe me, he sees you! Wait for him to come say hi and then we’ll go groove.”
I take a deep breath, surprised by how nervous I am to see him. Nervous. Anxious. Excited. Whichever. I remember earlier this afternoon, the feel of him wrapped around me, and my stomach clinches with a hunger only he can satisfy. I can no longer deny what I want, so I won't even try. Tonight—I want him to dance with me. I want him to pull me into his arms and not let go.
“Some guy who looks like he wants to eat you is headed our way,” says Millie.
I look at her, remembering that she has no idea where I work or who I work with. Staying obedient to Aria’s command, I haven’t turned to look at him; but I have a feeling Millie’s misinterpreting whatever expression's on Brandon’s face.
Yes, he called me beautiful. Yes, he’s got a fondness for my eyes. Whether or not he desires me is up for debate.
Three days. Three days with not even a finger graze.
Until this afternoon, my heart is quick to remind me.
This afternoon was about him teasing me. The desire was all mine.
I shove aside my heart, earnestly avoiding false hope. Meanwhile, I’m quick to give my roommate a couple details.
“Tall? Knotted ponytail and a beard?” She nods, offering me a smirk. “That’s my boss. Sage
and I work with him at Little Bird Cafe—Home of Brandon’s Bakery. That’s Brandon.”
“Lucky you,” she says, her eyes flicking behind me.
At this point, I'm totally jealous that everyone has laid eyes on him except for me. I'm about to turn around and change that when I feel his warmth at my back. My skin breaks out in goose pimples when his signature scent—pastries and soap and fresh spring grass—wraps itself around me.
“Hey, Sunshine.” He speaks softly, his breath tickling my ear. I feel spoiled by our public hello that feels private. Intimate.
Intimate? Don't get ahead of yourself, hon.
Aware that it's my turn to speak, I twist just slightly and tilt my head back. His face is close—kiss-me-now close. As if it’s a reflex that only he can conjure, I pull my lower lip between my teeth. He grins down at me before he reaches up and gently frees my lip with his thumb.
My heart is pounding, our proximity and his touch causing me to feel overheated. There’s just something about him—I can’t explain it—but he makes me giddy with anticipation. It’s almost as if my uncertainty as to whether or not this is a good idea—my uncertainty as to whether or not he feels the same way that I do—it makes moments like this burn with angst, fueled by the unknown.
The only way to quench the fire is to speak, to douse the flame with the clarity that comes with words. I don’t want this feeling to end. Not yet. So instead of saying hello, I slip out of my jacket. I toss it onto my vacant chair and then bring my eyes back up to meet his. I steal his move and wink at him before I leave him for the dance floor.
I’m vaguely aware that I should have introduced him to my friends, but I can’t bring myself to feel any remorse for my rudeness. This isn’t about them. It’s about me. It’s about me feeling bold and beautiful for the first time in months. I can’t let go of this feeling. I won’t.
As the sound from the stage pulls me into the crowd—away from Brandon—I feel my confidence slip. The question, will he come?, blares louder than the music that sends vibrations through my chest. I’m placated just slightly when Millie and Aria join me.