Shouldn't Want You (Cataclysm Book 2)

by Jerica MacMillan

  The sound of hushed voices—female voices—draws me back to the living room. Marcus is standing and wrapping his arms around Kendra to pull her in for a kiss. Blaire is talking to Aaron in a low voice, who’s still sitting on the couch, but more upright and with his feet on the floor and his knees spread to make room for Blaire to perch on the coffee table while she talks.

  Ava stands off to one side, observing both pairs, and I stand in the kitchen doorway watching her. She’s taken off her shoes, and what I thought was her looking at the other people is actually her trying to decide where she can sit without disturbing anyone. The problem is, both couples are blocking her access to the furniture.

  I stand and watch for a moment, until she lifts her gaze and her eyes connect with mine. Her mouth curves in a secret smile, like we’re sharing a private joke.

  I smile back. Because how can I not?

  When I clear my throat, Marcus stops sucking on Kendra’s tongue for long enough to look at me. “Aaaand that’s our cue to leave.” He separates from Kendra to find his flip flops and slide them on, then raises a hand to me. “Thanks for the pizza and beer. See ya later.”

  Kendra waves at me over her shoulder as Marcus steers her toward the door. “Night!”

  Standing, Blaire tugs on Aaron’s hand until he gets off the couch and shuffles his feet into his shoes. Blaire comes over to me and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for letting us steal Ava for the night. We had so much fun!” Then she goes and hugs Ava before hooking her arm through Aaron’s and heading for the door.

  Which only leaves Ava and I, still locked in a weird staring contest.

  “Thank you,” she says at last, “for getting them to leave.” Her is voice soft, and my eyes are drawn to her lips again. “I did have fun, but I’m tired and my feet hurt.”

  “You should sit down. Do you want anything? Are you hungry?”

  Her skirt flares out as she turns to sit on the couch, settling in one graceful movement with one leg drawn up under her. “No. Thirsty, though. Water would be amazing.”

  “Coming right up.” Ducking back into the kitchen, I grab a bottle from the fridge and bring it out to her.

  She cracks the lid and sucks down a quarter of it in one go.

  I slide onto the couch as well, keeping a respectable distance between us, but not going so far as to claim the other end. I’m drawn to her, I want to be close to her, but I also don’t want to be the creepy guy in real life that I already am in my head.

  Because the sight of those berry-colored lips wrapped around that water bottle and her throat working as she swallows has dirty thoughts running through my head.

  I tear my eyes away from her, reaching for the remote to shut off the movie. It’s almost to the credits, and no one has been watching it for a while. The dim glow of the menu is all that illuminates the living room, making it feel so much more intimate than it should.

  Which is stupid. We’ve spent weeks on this same couch with the same low light.

  But the quiet, the lack of a movie or show to focus on, somehow this feels … different.

  If Ava notices, she gives no indication, finishing her water in silence, then standing and stretching. Her arms lift high above her head, her tits pressing against the fabric of her dress, and my eyes go right to them. Like gravity, their pull is impossible to resist.

  When she drops her arms, I manage to drag my eyes away.

  “I’m wiped,” she says, her voice just above a whisper. “I’m going to go to bed. Night, Danny.”

  I turn off the TV and stand. “Me too.”

  She glances at me over her shoulder as I follow her into the hallway, the nightlight casting her features in high relief.

  When she stops in her open doorway, I stop too. “You had a good time tonight?”

  She nods, her lips turning up in a soft smile, her dark eyelashes sweeping down over her cheekbones. “Yeah. I haven’t gone out like that in …” She leans back against her open doorframe, tipping her face up to think. Then she huffs a small laugh and shakes her head. “Well, I can’t say I’ve ever done anything quite like that before.”

  Leaning against the wall, I smile down at her. I like her like this. Happy. Relaxed. Sweet.

  And it makes me wonder if she’d taste sweet. Where she’d taste sweet. Would I taste the remnants of whatever she drank tonight on her lips? Her tongue?

  With a mental record scratch, I derail that train of thought. Hard stop. Not going there.

  When she clears her throat, I realize I’ve been staring at her mouth. Blinking, I straighten up and drop my arms to my side, schooling my features into what I hope is a normal, non-lustful expression. My tongue’s inside my mouth and said mouth is closed, so at least I have that going for me. “I’m glad you had a good time. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Her lips part, drawing my attention once more, and she seems to hesitate before saying, “Goodnight, Danny.”

  Before I can move, she slips inside her room and closes the door, the soft snick almost echoing in the silence of the hallway.

  Because of course she’s going to close the door in her pervy boss’s face. Who can blame her?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ava

  I wait, breath suspended, my left hand pressed against the wood of the door, the other still wrapped around the handle. After a few seconds, Danny’s quiet footsteps retreat down the hallway to the bedroom he shares with Eli.

  Letting out my air in a rush, my shoulders sag, and I let my head drop forward to fall on top of my hand on the door.

  That look.

  I recognize that look.

  Grayson looked at me just like that so many times before he gave in and kissed me.

  I was too tempting. That’s what he said. Too tempting for too long, and he couldn’t help himself.

  And I did nothing to stop him.

  Because at the time I wanted him to kiss me. I enjoyed it.

  Lifting my head, I step back from the door and sink onto the bed, raising a hand to my lips. What is it that draws unavailable men to my mouth? They’re just normal lips. Faded lipstick notwithstanding, there’s nothing remarkable about my mouth. I’ve stared at myself in the mirror often enough to know that much.

  With a sigh, I push off from the bed and carefully peel out of the dress, replacing it on the hanger. It needs cleaning after sweating in it on the dance floor with Kendra and Blaire, so I separate it from the rest of my clothes, staring at it for a long moment before continuing with my bedtime preparations.

  Blaire was on a mission to find me a man tonight. If her constantly shoving me in the direction of attractive men who happened to glance our way weren’t enough of a clue, she outright told me when we got to the club. “We’re on the hunt tonight,” she said.

  I giggled. “What’s on the menu?”

  She grinned. “Meat.”

  Kendra snorted. “Blaire. Be nice.”

  But Blaire’s smile just grew wider. “I am being nice,” she insisted. “Ava’s not going to get any on this tour. Marcus is happily taken, and while I don’t mind sharing Aaron or Mason”—she gave me a considering look—“Ava doesn’t strike me as the type to get in on our arrangement.” She leaned closer to me. “How do you feel about fuck buddies, Ava?”

  I choked on my own spit, since we were still waiting for the bartender to make our drinks, and she sat back and crossed her arms, glancing at Kendra as though my reaction settled everything.

  Kendra shook her head. “Ignore her. We just wanted to take you out to have fun. But if single guys come over, we’re shoving you in their path since you’re the only one not with anyone already.”

  Before I could ask about the exact nature of Blaire’s relationship with Aaron and Mason—because she said she didn’t mind sharing them, which sounds a lot like she’s with both of them, but that seems … unusual—the bartender handed us our drinks, and Blaire hooked her free arm through mine and pulled me away from the bar. After that it was a bl
ur of lights and loud music, bodies twisting and gyrating to the pounding bass, and the only conversation had to be shouted.

  And then the attractive men started showing up, plying us with offers of drinks, dancing, a ride home. I refused the drinks and the rides, but danced with most of them.

  It was awkward at first. I didn’t grow up dancing. The running pseudo-joke when I was a teenager was that dancing makes you pregnant. Just dancing all on its own.

  Of course the joke was grounded in a serious disapproval for the activity, so even though we all laughed about it, none of us danced.

  But the cocktails I drank—only two, because that’s enough to make me loose and goofy—helped me relax into the rhythm, moving my hips to the beat, trying to imitate the women around me. None of the guys I danced with seemed to notice my ineptitude, or at least they didn’t care if they did notice.

  Blaire and Kendra were always close by, ready to rescue me if anyone got too handsy or wouldn’t take no for an answer when I refused to go anywhere else with them.

  But none of those guys stared at my mouth.

  And if I’m being honest, Danny doesn’t stare at my mouth like Grayson did either. Danny’s stare is much more intense, making my lips feel tingly and heat wash up my body. Like my whole body is answering his gaze, pleading for him to touch it. God, how I wished he would touch me when we stood in the hall … Which is no surprise. I’m undeniably attracted to Danny. Everything about him is more intense than Grayson. More dangerous. More thrilling.

  Grayson was … nice. Smart. Kind.

  Unless you consider that he was cheating on his wife. And the way he acted when I told him I was pregnant.

  So … Grayson is actually an asshole.

  I freeze as the realization hits me, my hands still clutching the shirt I was in the process of putting on in front of me.

  Maybe that’s my problem. I attract assholes. Men who have no business getting involved with me.

  My married professor.

  My boss.

  And I’m the dummy who keeps getting drawn to them. With Grayson, he made me feel special. Important. Smart. He asked my opinions and listened to my answers as though I were a respected colleague rather than a student. I thought …

  Well, I thought that his wife neglected him. And that they were on the verge of breaking up anyway. I thought that we’d stumbled across each other and would be together forever. That he’d leave her for me. That he was in the process of leaving her for me.

  He’d never said as much. Not directly. But he’d hinted enough that I’d fooled myself into believing it.

  At least Danny’s just my employer. And while he’s the father of the child I care for, he’s single. No wife in the picture here.

  And despite the way he stared at my mouth, he isn’t actually pursuing me. Not the way Grayson did. And how I wish he would …

  Shaking myself, I push the thought away and finish putting on my shirt, ready to climb into bed. Anything between Danny and me would ultimately blow up the same way things did with Grayson. Well, hopefully not exactly the same way. But with me needing to find a new job, at least.

  I stare at the door for a moment, considering whether to bother washing my face and brushing my teeth. I’m tired. But my mind is racing.

  If I go out there, will Danny hear me and come back out? Act on the promise in his eyes? Or will I be left alone?

  I know what I wish could happen …

  But I decide not to tempt fate and slide into bed.

  I steel myself before leaving my room the next morning, taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, then walking to the kitchen, prepared to come face to face with Danny and his mouth staring.

  But when I get there, he’s singing a silly song to Eli about toast as he spreads butter on the subject of his song. Which is actually harder to brace myself against. He’s at his most attractive when he’s like this with Eli.

  When I enter the room, he spares me a glance and a smile, but the kind of smile you’d give anyone to say hello in the morning.

  Still watchful, waiting, I pad to the fridge and pull out a strawberry Greek yogurt and pop a slice of bread in the toaster for my own breakfast. Danny cuts Eli’s toast in half and sets it on a plate along with banana slices and blueberries that he arranges in a silly face.

  It’s so cute watching him do things like that for his son. A huge contrast to the frowny, grumpy man I met that first day. He’s lighter now, sillier, his frown more often replaced by a small smile or at least a pleasant, neutral expression. I’ve grown to like him more and more as the days go by.

  After giving Eli his breakfast, Danny grabs a shaker cup and dumps a scoop of protein powder into it, adding water and ice and shaking it up. “How’re you feeling this morning?” he asks as he takes a seat next to Eli.

  “Gweat!” shouts Eli, making us both grin.

  “You sleep good, little man?” I grab a spoon from the drawer and peel back the lid of my yogurt, leaning against the counter while I wait for my toast.

  Eli nods enthusiastically and takes a bite of a banana slice, crumbs and butter smeared around his mouth.

  When Danny meets my eyes, I once again brace myself for his gaze to dip to my lips. But it doesn’t.

  Not once throughout breakfast. Or after, when he leaves for his morning workout.

  Did I just imagine that last night? Was it a trick of the light? Or is my infatuation so intense that I’m just manufacturing attraction on his side?

  Greeeaat. As though falling for my married professor weren’t bad enough, now I’m in unrequited lust with my boss. I’d slap my own forehead at my stupidity, except I have an audience.

  I dig into my yogurt, dragging my eyes away from my super hot boss and his adorable son.

  While my relationship with Danny is friendlier than with the parents of the other kids I’ve babysat for, that might be normal considering I’m a live-in nanny. Right? I mean, I’m kind of part of the family, even if I’m paid a salary to be here.

  Maybe that’s all it is—Danny’s a nice guy and doesn’t want me to feel awkward. He followed me and asked about my night because he wants me to be friendly with Blaire and Kendra so that being on the road will be easier on me. I’m more likely to stick around if I feel like I’m part of the group, rather than an outsider or just the hired help, after all.

  That must be it.

  I have an overactive imagination and a bad case of inconvenient attraction. The combination of tiredness and lingering fuzziness from the alcohol made me see things that weren’t there.

  Danny’s feelings for me are entirely platonic. Which should be a relief.

  But somehow it isn’t.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ava

  The next few days are busy with packing and planning. Eli and I come to a band meeting where Blaire passes out the itineraries for the first leg of the tour.

  We’ll be traveling for three months, and I spend all my free time researching the places we’ll be staying to map out activities to do with Eli while his dad is busy.

  Any imaginings of attraction or anything other than a friendly relationship with Danny fall away in the stress and activity of going on tour with a band.

  I’ve been researching things to do with Eli to keep him entertained. The first stop is in Seattle, where there’s a cool Children’s Museum and several other places for kids. I’m looking forward to taking him exploring.

  We fly out on a Wednesday afternoon. Eli does awesome on the flight, which is only a few hours, running up and down, climbing all over his dad, looking out the window, and occasionally consenting to watch a couple of episodes of Daniel Tiger on the iPad. Eli cuddles up on the plane’s couch—which still blows my mind that there’s a couch on a plane—between Danny and me to watch his show. Danny meets my eyes over Eli’s head and lets out a sigh. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

  Eli’d been climbing him like a monkey for the last half hour while he’d been trying to have a conversatio
n with Marcus about something.

  Danny and the band are busy the next day with setting up in the arena and sound checks for the show that night. Even though Kendra had said she’d spend the days with Eli and I, I think she’s still excited with the newness of being on tour with her boyfriend, so she goes to the sound check too, leaving Eli and me on our own for the day.

  Everything goes great until it’s time to leave the Children’s Museum. I’ve used all my tricks, giving him warnings ahead of time that we’d be leaving soon, trying to prepare him for the transition from playing to heading back to the hotel for a nap.

  “Noooo!” he shrieks when it’s time to leave, the blood-curdling sound piercing my ear drums and those of everyone in a fifteen mile radius.

  “Shh, shh, shh. Eli.” I crouch down on his level. “I know you’re having fun. But I told you it would be time to go soon. We’ve been here for three hours.” I keep my voice calm and steady, but if anything that only makes him scream harder. Wordless and high pitched, steam whistles have nothing on this kid. I could go for some of the band’s sound blocking in-ear monitors right about now. Holy crap. This kid’s scream could break glass.

  Tears roll down his cheeks, and I reach for him. But he shakes his head and stomps his foot, angry and red faced. Mouth open for another blood-curdling shriek.

  “Eli.” I make my voice firm. Still calm, but with an edge to it to convey that I mean business. “It’s time to go. I need you to calm down and come with me. We’re going back to the hotel to have lunch. I think Daddy will be there soon. Don’t you want to see Daddy?”

  “Nooo! Pway!”

  With a sigh, I glance around, catching the commiserating looks on the faces of parents at the edges of the room. At least no one thinks I’m torturing the kid.

  I hold out my hand. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get some lunch.” I infuse my voice with as much cheerful cajoling as I can manage. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you hungry?”