by Lynn Stevens
He raised an eyebrow at her and pulled the single nod motion for her to come to him. That wasn’t going to happen. Paige shifted her gaze to someone else. She didn’t need a guy’s permission to hit on him.
I sipped my wine. “What or who exactly are you looking for?”
“Someone who doesn’t want more than a night. Someone with a tight ass and biceps I can dig my fingernails into. Someone who will make me forget.”
“Okay, let’s find you some man-candy.” I glanced over the crowd. The place was crowded with couples and groups. Three girls laughed loudly at a nearby table. The guys next to them stared. Several tables had couples who needed to just leave and get a room. On the other side of the bar near the pool tables, a rowdy tournament had started. There really wasn’t any place for a single to go and not stand out.
Paige laughed. “Nobody says man-candy anymore. How about let’s find me a fuck-buddy?” She shifted forward on her toes. “Oh, that’s too perfect.”
She disappeared into the crowd and I lost track of her for a few minutes.
I found her on the other side of the bar. Paige sat with her back to a tall table and was surrounded by three very attractive guys. It was too loud and I was too far away, but I managed to hear the words football and quarterback. The thinner one, but not by much, leaned against the table. Paige’s focus became entirely about him. Of course she would go for a jock. Tyler Brisbane was the jock of Westland, the incoming captain of the football team and a track runner in the spring. Nobody else on campus participated in two sports. He wasn’t a senior, but that had been Paige’s only requirement of the night. She was sober enough to realize who she was flirting with. It was also well-known that Tyler had a good chance at getting drafted at the end of April. And that Jayce hated him. She crossed her legs and touched his arm as she laughed. She’d found her mark.
That didn’t take long.
“Hey,” I said, slipping in beside her.
“Liv, this is my friend Tyler.” Paige didn’t take her eyes off him.
I raised my glass. Tyler smiled, clear-eyed and sober. Bonus for Paige. And bonus for me—I didn’t have to worry about her getting into a drunk guy’s car.
“Liv, huh? That short for anything?” One of Tyler’s friends smiled at me.
I opened my mouth to politely respond when somebody said my name.
“O-liv-ee-ahhhh,” the slurring voice said.
I turned around and came face-to-face with a very drunk pitcher. His hazel eyes were dilated and going in and out of focus.
“Seamus.”
He bent down, his lips too close to my ear. His five o’clock shadow tickled my delicate skin. “I love how you say my name.” Whiskey rolled off his hot breath. “I need to get you to scream it.”
“You’re wasted,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “Is your coach going to get pissed?”
“Nope, not tonight. No curfew and I’m legal. Once the season starts, no drinking. Tonight, I’m all in.” His gaze sharpened on the guy beside me. “Who’s your friend?”
“Honestly, I don’t know his name.” I turned to Paige for help, but she was lost in Tyler-land.
“Good, you don’t need to know it.” He pulled me away from the group and into a quiet corner. “Flirting with other guys?”
I laughed. Hard. “Funny. I wasn’t flirting. I was playing wing-woman to Paige’s vixen.”
He glanced back to where Paige was in deep conversation with Tyler. “Your work is done. I needed to blow off steam.” His entire body pressed against mine. “Wanna help?”
I snorted. “Take advantage of you? I don’t think so.”
“What if I want you to take advantage of me?” His hand slipped onto my waist, pulling me closer. Heat rolled from his skin.
My knees weakened with every second. I wanted him, but I didn’t want him not to remember. We’d already done the drunken hookup once, almost twice. If I was going to sleep with him, I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to be memorable for both of us.
I couldn’t believe I was even considering this.
“What if I…” I bit my tongue, my face burning with embarrassment. We’d moved into new undefined territory.
“What if you what?” he said, his hot breath caressing my cheek. His nose skimmed along my jaw. “What if you want to? What if you like it? What if you want more?”
“Let’s go,” I whispered. At the very least, we needed to be anywhere but the crowded bar.
Devon’s sharp intake of breath was enough to know he wasn’t expecting me to say that. I took his hand, leading him toward the exit and praying the cold air would sober him up. Devon wrapped his arm around my waist, dragging me back against him. I glanced over my shoulder toward Paige. She raised her glass then went back to her quarterback. Devon’s hand flattened against my stomach as he nuzzled my neck.
“God, you smell so good,” he whispered. “Like peaches and cream. So very edible.”
I wanted nothing more than to lean back into him and offer my neck for consumption, but public displays of sex were at the bottom of my must-do list. I pulled away from him, taking his hand and plowing our way out the door. The air cooled me off, but it did nothing for Devon. He swayed as I led him to Paige’s car.
“I thought you drove a truck,” he stammered.
“It’s Pai—” I didn’t get to finish.
Devon spun me around, trapping me between the passenger door and his body. His lips covered mine, coaxing a gentle kiss between us. It was not what I expected. It was almost chaste until I couldn’t stand our lips only touching. I turned it up, opening my mouth and exploring his with my tongue. Devon’s hands squeezed my hips. The heat rose between us, consuming me until I didn’t care that we were in a well-lit parking lot. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he lifted me, feeling every inch of him between my legs.
“God, get a room,” a disgusted voice said. A chorus of giggles echoed the sentiment.
I pushed Devon back, settling my shaking legs back on the ground. “We should go.”
He nodded as I opened the passenger door, ushering him inside. I glanced toward the trio of women way too close for comfort.
“You nail that, girlfriend,” one of them said, adding a fingersnap for good measure. I thought people stopped doing that a decade ago. Apparently not. Or she was older than she looked. I waved, and it was very awkward.
Devon rested his head against the window, and his hand found mine the minute I sat in the car. I stretched my left hand around to turn the key and put the car into drive. Paige’s sedan idled too fast and her brakes needed some work. I hit the brakes before rear-ending the woo-girls as they yanked out of their space.
What was I thinking? It was like I was drunk on him. He rolled onto his back, gazing up at me with sleepy, alcohol-coated eyes. If I wasn’t thinking straight, neither was he. Just another thing we had in common.
“Hey,” I said after I parallel parked in spectacular fashion in front of my building. Paige’s tank did not maneuver that well. I nudged him with my knee. “We’re here.” He shifted, but he didn’t move off my leg. “Unless you want me to drive you back to Donaldson.”
Devon sat up fast. “I’m up. I’m awake.”
I covered my mouth to hide the laugh. “Come on, Seamus.”
He swayed on the way toward my front door, and his balance was less than stellar on the steps leading to my apartment. But that didn’t stop him from touching my waist or my hip. I craved it when he would stumble away, even if the lost contact was no less than a second. His lips found my neck again as I tried repeatedly to unlock my door.
“You look fantastic tonight, Olivia,” he whispered, allowing my concentration to return long enough to open the door. “I love this dress.”
I felt a flush of heat blush my cheeks. “Thanks.” I spun around, putting a hand on each side of his face. “I’m glad you noticed.”
“Who wouldn’t have?” He pulled me against him, lifting me off the floor and carrying me into my apart
ment. For a guy who had just been stumbling, he seemed to have his balance rather quickly. He kicked the door closed and pushed his fingers into my hair, trying to entangle them. Unfortunately, Paige had put in far too many bobby pins for that to happen.
“Hold that thought,” I said, again pulling away from him. I held up my finger. “I’ll be right back.”
Devon settled onto the daybed, leaning back with his hands behind his head. His black T-shirt stretched tight over his chest. I could easily see his package trying to break free from his jeans. The strain that zipper was under would be a scientific study all in itself. I tore my gaze away from him and hurried to the bathroom. It took way too long to remove the bobby pins. Even the bobby pins had bobby pins. By the time I opened the door, soft snores came down the hall. I crept into the front. Devon had pulled the quilt over his shoulder and fallen asleep.
It was for the best, even though I was disappointed. This wasn’t how I wanted it to be. I wasn’t looking for a rebound. I wanted more from Devon than a quick hookup. Maybe he wanted that, too, but he needed to be sober.
We needed to talk. Like adults.
I went to my dresser and dug out his football jersey to sleep in, then headed back into the bathroom to change. After cleaning my face and hanging the dress back in the armoire, I climbed over Devon and settled in between him and the wall. Devon rolled over, throwing his arm around my waist. I tugged the quilt free and covered both of us.
Maybe in the morning we could have an honest conversation. If only I had any kind of luck.
Chapter Fifteen
I woke up early and took a shower. Not wanting to wake Devon, I settled into a dining room chair and read. When it was getting too close to the time to leave for work, I sent Logan a quick text to call off. He responded within seconds that he had already planned on it and hoped I had a hell of a hangover. I started to respond that I wasn’t hungover, but why? Let him think what he wanted.
My hair was dry by the time Devon woke up. His disorientation was cute as he glanced around my apartment. When his gaze settled on me, reality dawned on him. He sat up too quickly and grabbed his head.
“I’m still wearing my clothes,” he said with a groan. “That’s disappointing.”
I laughed, but I didn’t leave my seat at the small table in the dining area. Actually, calling it a dining area was generous. It was a table for two pushed against a wall.
Devon stretched his arms above his head, revealing the hint of a six pack as his black shirt rose from his waist. Too bad he had passed out. I closed my eyes and counted to ten before opening them again. When I did, Devon’s grin lit the room.
“What?” I asked.
“You were thinking about me.” His head bobbed as he spoke. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Nice shirt. Looks better on you than I remember,” he added.
“I’m rather fond of it,” I said. My tea cooled in a cup on the table. I picked it up, sipping it slowly. Devon watched as I savored my favorite Darjeeling with a hint of honey. It didn’t help my nerves. “Where’d you get it?”
“Played football in high school.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t anything unusual. “I played basketball, too, but I sucked at it. Baseball’s always been my game.”
“There’s a…there’s a towel and a spare toothbrush…in the bathroom.” Please, God, help me calm down. “If you…you know, want to get cleaned up?”
“You’re inviting me to stay?” His voice turned from sultry to shocked.
I shrugged, keeping my gaze on the mug between my fingers. Why was this so hard? I was acting like a fourteen-year-old in love with a fictional vampire. I lifted my mug, hoping another sip, or gulp, would calm me down. We kept circling each other, but every move was tentative, calculated. It was time to put up or shut up.
“Why?”
I swallowed hard, almost choking on too much tea. “I don’t know…I thought we could maybe talk?”
“About?” Devon was enjoying this. His playful tone was back.
I stirred up some courage and looked him right in the eyes. “Us.”
“Us, huh?” he shot back.
It was too much. His gaze too intense. I shrugged again and glanced away. The pattern on my placemats was more interesting than anything else in the world. The way the black material was woven through the bamboo. I counted the rows, waiting for Devon to make a move either out the front or to the bathroom. Or something—anything. The suspense was killing me.
The springs on my daybed squeaked. I almost sighed with relief, but my blood raced through my veins toward my heart, which now sounded like a herd of elephants. A door closed. I didn’t know if it was the front door or the bathroom door; I was so disoriented. Hyperventilation was a serious possibility.
Then the shower came on.
Step one was out of the way. Time for step two. If Devon was anything like my brothers, he wouldn’t stay in there too long. I stood and stepped into the kitchenette. My lone skillet already sat on one of the two burners. I pulled out the griddle for bacon and got to work on breakfast. The toaster oven baked four biscuits while I whipped up scrambled eggs and flipped enough bacon to feed the entire building. I wasn’t sure if he drank coffee or tea or just orange juice, so I set up the one-shot coffee machine Paige bought as an apartment warming gift—mainly because she loved coffee—and poured a glass of orange juice. I hurried to set the table, making sure it was presentable.
What was I doing?
I never did anything like this for Henry. But we’d also known each other since kindergarten. I didn’t know Devon. Why was I thinking there could be an us? I didn’t know anything about him. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. We’d talked, shared a little, and slowly opened up to one another. It just felt like I didn’t know him, because I didn’t know how he’d react to what I was about to propose.
His arms wrapped around my waist and he rested his chin on my shoulder. I froze, then relaxed against him. There wasn’t any reason to panic. I just hadn’t heard the shower turn off or Devon enter the room. My hands covered his as I leaned back. My ocean-scented body wash rolled off his skin, mixing with his natural sexiness.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said. “Pop-Tarts would’ve been fine.”
I smiled, my head tilting to the left as his breath sent shivers down my right side. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
“There’ll be a next time?” His lips brushed over my skin with the barest of touches. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in a long time. Will there be a next-next time or is that pushing it?”
I pulled away from him. That was exactly what we needed to talk about. I pointed to a chair. “Please sit.”
Devon cocked a single eyebrow, but he sat down and reached for the orange juice. My hands shook as I sat across from him. I waited until he’d filled his plate. Apparently I hadn’t made enough bacon after all. We ate in silence for several minutes while I debated whether turning on music would’ve been a good or bad idea. By the time I’d come to a consensus, my eggs were cold and I hadn’t moved an inch.
“You never answered my question,” Devon said after he’d taken the last of the bacon. He crumbled the strips over his eggs, staring as each piece hit its mark. “Is this a one-shot breakfast?” His gaze shifted to meet mine. My knees buckled under the intensity. “Or will there be more?”
My throat had gone dry. I reached for my mug, my hands shaking worse than before and almost knocking over the salt grinder. Devon grabbed and steadied it before it tipped onto the table. I drained my sweetened tea, praying it would bring much-needed clarity. It only made it worse.
“Olivia? Are you okay?” he asked, genuine concern filling his voice.
I nodded. It was time to lay my cards on the table. “Do you want more?”
“I could go for more bacon,” he said as he popped a piece in his mouth.
“That’s not what I meant.” I swallowed hard and said it again. “Do you want more with me?”
“I think I’ve
made that pretty clear,” he answered.
“Not really,” I said, finally looking at him again. His eyes scrunched in confusion, but that didn’t stop him from shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “You’ve been hot and cold.”
“Says the girl who ran out of my room,” he said before finishing the last of his orange juice.
“In my defense, I was freaked out.” I pulled my knee to my chest, resting my heel on the edge of the chair.
“Because you thought we’d had sex or because it was me?”
I didn’t break his stare as I answered with complete honesty. “Both.”
He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. I wished I knew what he was thinking. He stared across the room toward the window, although I doubted he was looking at anything. I wanted to take back the truth, but I was so sick of not being honest with him. We’d danced around each other for too long.
“I don’t…” I took a deep breath as he turned his gaze back to me. “After we…after freshman orientation, I promised myself I’d never do anything like that again. It wasn’t me. At least, I didn’t think so. I lost control, and I hated myself for it. Since my mom died, I’ve… God this is hard.” I glanced out the window and composed thoughts. Once I felt like I had them in a coherent order, I faced him again. “I’ve been focused on keeping order. You’re more chaos. It bothered me how much I liked it, too. And…” I let it hang there, skipping the other reason. “Then I woke up in your room, you of all people, and it scared the shit out of me.”
“If it had been anyone else, would you have reacted the same?”
It was a fair question. Would I have? I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that, but it was hard. I put a few familiar faces into the scenario. None of them had the same reaction. Then again, it wasn’t real. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Why were you so determined to hate me?” Devon sat forward, settling his elbows on the table. He pushed his plate toward the wall.