by Ward, Alice
Throat clogged with emotion, I racked my brain, trying to find the words to say, an apology, a heartfelt condolence, but instead, my mouth took off on its own agenda. “Tell me about it?”
Oh, God. That was dumb. Like he wants to talk about his ex. Like I want to actually hear about another slutty chick that didn’t have the decency to come out and end her relationship before throwing the guy she supposedly cared about under a bus. As if my own betrayal wasn’t enough for my morbid curiosity.
“Not a lot to tell, really,” he said with a slight shrug. “We were young, wanted different things. I had my band, she wanted a life that I couldn’t give her, so she found someone that could. She’s married now to some attorney, lives in New York—the place she always wanted to go—and expecting a baby in June.”
“You-you keep in touch?” I asked, the high pitch of my voice giving away my shock.
“Sort of.” He shrugged. “She’s on my Facebook. I don’t really talk with her though.”
Again, the words flew out of my mouth before my brain had the sense to stop them. “Do you still love her?”
“Aye,” he said with a slight nod. “But it’s different now. I’m happy for her. I’m just ready to find my future, the life I wanted, even back then. I’m living part of it with the band..." He trailed off and then went silent.
“But you want someone to share that life with,” I offered, somehow instinctively certain that I knew where he’d been going with his confession.
He shot me a weak smile. “Something like that.”
CHAPTER SIX
The only way our ride home could have been more awkward would have been if there had been two other passengers in the truck: Sean, and whomever Jace’s ex was. They might as well have been with as thick as the tension felt between us.
I tried my best to mind my own business and stare out the passenger window, but in Texas, the dark is a little boring. There’s not much to look at, other than the black sky, black road, and headlights on the pavement. So, eventually, my mouth got me into trouble... as usual.
“If you’re so adamant against cheating—at least I’m assuming you are because of your ex—why did you kiss me anyway? When you knew I was engaged?” I asked, my words penetrating the silence like nails on a chalkboard.
Jace’s facial expression matched my analogy, to a tee. “What do you mean?” he asked, sounding almost hesitant.
I certainly wasn’t used to that side of him.
“Just, I got the impression that you have a serious thing against cheating, so then I’m confused. I know I kissed you back... but why did you kiss me in the first place?”
For the longest time, the only sound in the cab was the steady thunk-thunk of the wheels eating pavement. But finally, he inhaled and then shot me a glance. “What I was hoping you would take away from our little story time was that if I, a guy who was hurt by cheating, can come to terms with what happened between us—which wasn’t even sex... maybe you should, too.“ Again, he gave me a look, a very pointed one, at that.
Between his words, that look, and the thought of a bedroom romp with Jace Richardson, my heart accelerated and my core clenched. Oh, dear God, I really did want this. More than I even realized. And maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t wrong to move on. Hadn’t I already? Even before the kiss? Even before Jace had stepped into my life?
I’d like to think so.
But it was those questions, along with the charge of our brief conversation on the way home, that kept me silent for the next several miles as I tried to avoid looking at him and speaking to him. I just forced myself to stare out into the blackness, refusing to admit defeat over the boring nothingness outside.
It was a hell of a lot better than the alternative—making a fool out of myself by jumping across the truck and ravishing this man that, for whatever reason, seemed to hold the key to unlocking something inside me that honestly, truly kind of scared me. A freedom and an impulsiveness that I’d avoided for my entire life.
Because big things only come to those that wait and plan tirelessly.
And jumping into bed with Jace Richardson certainly wouldn’t qualify as either... not that any part of my body seemed to particularly care because even just hearing the word “sex” fall from Jace Richardson’s lips made for a very moist ride home. It also sparked some forbidden thoughts. Those lips that had uttered that forbidden word caressing places they shouldn’t. My legs wrapped around parts of him that I shouldn’t be thinking about. Sweat dripping...
Oh, dear God.
I prayed for a quick drive home, but somehow, Jace must have known I was thinking about him. Either that, or I was just being super obvious and easy to read. Or maybe I was just paranoid. Whatever the case, my body went into complete mutiny mode as he touched my bare thigh, which only served to cause the moist area between my legs to pulsate and tighten. And it only got worse when he pulled the truck over to the side of the road.
After putting the truck in park, he held onto the steering wheel, his fingers clenching and twisting the protective wheel cover. “Andrea,” he whispered softly, still not looking at me. “I didn’t mean anything by that. Honestly. It’s just... I didn’t kiss you to hurt you, or Sean. I really did try to stay away, to let things work out like they were meant to... but you...”
Finally, he turned to look at me, his entire body shifting to face me. “There’s something about you, your fire, your strength, your passion, even your damned stubbornness.” Smiling, he shook his head, but the seriousness of his expression didn’t fade in the slightest.
“It’s like knowing that you shouldn’t put your hand on the stove because you know it’s hot, but you can’t help yourself.” His words were coming faster, almost rushed as he leaned across the cab and closed some of the distance between us. “I can’t help myself around you. I’m doing my damndest to give you space, to let you deal with your relationship. But I’m not a patient man, Andrea. Quite far from it, actually. When I see something I want, I give everything I’ve got to obtaining it, to making it mine.”
By the time he’d finished his confession, he was so close that I was sure he could hear my heart hammering away against my rib cage. And, as my chest heaved with excitement, I thought: This is it. He’s going to take me, right here in his truck, in the middle of nowhere, underneath the endless Texas sky.
His fingers reached for my face, but instead of touching me, he lifted a swatch of my hair. Slowly twisting it in his fingers, he examined that bit of hair as if it were something to be treasured. And then he lifted it to his face. Instinctively, my face moved closer to his, so close, I heard him inhale me. The intensity of it all became so thick that I thought I might spontaneously combust.
Until, finally, he spoke. “But for you, my dear Andrea,” he said, his tone deep and husky. “I’ll wait. I’ll be the man I’m not and give you time. Just don’t ignore what your body and heart are telling you for too long. Don’t give yourself a chance to regret all the wasted time between us.”
Oh, God, he wasn’t going to kiss me. He wasn’t going to ravish my body or take me with the intensity and passion that rested behind those words. The fire burning in his chocolate eyes and in the core of my body wouldn’t be quenched. Even with the guilt tugging at the back of my brain for even thinking he would or should have done any of those things, I couldn’t help but notice the sinking disappointment curdling inside my gut as he turned back to the driver’s seat and put the truck in drive again.
As the miles stretched on, me so hot and bothered that I couldn’t calm my breathing, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t help but think of how confident he’d sounded about the prospect of us, of what we could have. Could it really be just that simple as letting go and moving on?
Everything except my guilty conscious said it could be.
***
By the time we’d reached campus, I’d worked myself into a confused, hormone-crazed ball of energy. The worst part was, I didn’t know what to do with it all. I ha
d wanted Jace to kiss me, to touch me, to do anything but put that small amount of distance between us as he walked me to my dorm room door. But he’d placed the ball in my court, and as much as I wanted to give into everything my body was telling me to do, I was afraid of it. Afraid of the consequences. Afraid that I might make the wrong choice. Afraid that Sean would come back and I wouldn’t have anything left to give him.
And so, instead of giving him the green light, instead of aligning what my body and my brain wanted, I stood there like an oaf as he lingered by my door. “Thank you, again. For everything,” I said, the words sounding so far off and distant in my own head because every part of me wanted to say something, anything else. “I had a great time.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, that killer smile of his looking a little sad as he ran a finger over my collarbone.
My eyes fluttered shut as I shuddered from his touch.
As he turned to go, the next set of words from his lips floated around in my head. “Just remember what I said.”
Those words would haunt me a million times over that night, they would spin around, like a record stuck on repeat. I would try and drown them out with cleaning and laundry, and even a quick shower. I would try to shove them aside as I pulled out my notes and tried to work on the long overdue column for the campus paper. But nothing would work, not even climbing into my bed and pleasuring myself.
My fingers, pinching my hard nipples would only serve to strengthen the truth in his words. The slick wetness of my pussy would only solidify the validity of his conviction. And my toe-curling orgasm would only concrete the evidence that he was right. My body wanted him, ached for him, needed something that I somehow knew only he could give me.
But first, I needed to get my life in order and back on track.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day felt like a new beginning, a new chance at life, a future that I could create, just for myself and not anyone else. And it all started with cleaning the disaster area I called my side of the room. How in the world I’d ever let it get that bad was beyond me, especially since I had always been known for my obsessive cleaning disorder, that’s what Becca called it anyway.
By the time she woke, I had washed and put away most of my laundry, cleaned out all the wadded up tissues strewn on the floor, and taken all the take out boxes and ice cream containers out to the garbage. I was just starting on the dusting when she started to stir.
At first, she roused slowly, barely even registering the cleanliness around her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and made her way to the restroom. But about the time the door shut, she doubled back and turned around to face me. “Oh my God, chick,” she said, her mouth hanging open. “You cleaned! It looks..."
“Like me?” I offered.
“Definitely,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“Thanks.”
Her grin only grew as she swept her eyes over my clean tank top and jean shorts, high ponytail, and lightly done make up. “Does this mean you’re joining me for coffee today?” she asked, the hope on her face evident.
“Sure,” I said with a lighthearted smile of my own. “But we have to make it a quick one today. I’ve got a lot of making up to do.”
“You got it,” she said, giving me a goofy salute. “I’ll be ready to go in half an hour?”
I nodded my approval just before she disappeared into the restroom. As Becca showered and got ready for the day, I dug into my studies. I’d come pretty close to failing a test the week before, and I would fail the next one, for sure, if I didn’t get some actual reading done.
“You ready?” Becca asked when she emerged from the bathroom, the steaming rolling out the door behind her like some kind of special effects.
I tucked my notes into my textbook and then closed it. “Sure,” I said, standing and pushing my chair in.
We headed to the coffee shop and chatted about mundane things that we’d chatted about all four years that we’d known each other. I knew she was holding it in, waiting for the right moment. No sooner than we’d ordered our coffees and found a seat, just as I’d predicted, the questions started.
“So, where’d he take you?” she asked, propping her elbows up on the table and then resting her chin in her hands. When I didn’t answer right away, she waggled her eyebrows. “Come on, you can’t leave me out of the loop here. I am the one that called him to rescue you from your pit of despair.”
I should have known all along that this had all been a ploy on Becca’s part to get the down and dirty details on my day with Jace.
After giving her a stare down that would have beat out anyone except her, I finally caved. “Fine,” I said, blowing out a huff of air. “We went to an amusement park.”
“Did you ride the merry-go-round?” she asked, her eyes glinting with a softness that only true romantics possessed.
“No, the Ferris wheel.”
“Oh, that’s just as good,” she said, leaning even further forward. If she wasn’t careful, she might split her body in half. “Did he kiss you?”
I squirmed in my seat a little.
“He did! Oh, how romantic.”
“You know,” I said, lifting my eyebrows at her. “I never would have pegged you as a hopeless, Becca.”
Oh, that did her in. She pulled her lips into a tight scowl and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll have you know, there’s a romantic in all of us. There’s nothing wrong with believing in true love and love at first sight and fate and all that jazz.”
It took everything I had in me to suppress the laugh bubbling up in my chest but I held out long enough for her to simmer down a bit.
“Now,” she said, squaring her shoulders as she settled into her seat again. “Finish my story. Where were you? How did it happen? Was he as amazing as every girl dreams he is? Tell me everything.”
“Well,” I said, not sure how much of our day trip I should divulge. She may have been my best friend, but some of the stuff that he’d told me that day had been private information. I didn’t want to betray his trust. “He didn’t kiss me on the Ferris wheel. Actually, he didn’t kiss me at all. I kissed him. And it was right after lunch at this adorable pizzeria.”
I paused and Becca nodded eagerly, egging me on.
“We—uh—I got really mad at him over something kind of stupid and then he chased me down and pinned me up against the wall... . and then I kissed him.”
“That’s it?” she screeched, crinkling her face.
I gave a slight shrug and focused on the drink in my hand. “Pretty much.”
I could feel the weight of Becca’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Well, there’s more... I’ll get it out of you eventually,” she finally said, sitting back in her chair. “When do you see him next?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “He basically left it up to me. Said he’d give me time to heal, or something like that.”
“So what are you waiting for?” she asked, kicking me under the table.
I kicked her back. “I have some things to take care of before I go and get involved with someone, Becca. Like, passing this week’s exam and turning in that column.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, again examining my response. “Alright,” she said. “But if I get even the slightest inkling you’re stalling, I’m calling him myself. That, or I’ll make you a burnt offering to every woman on campus that would give their left arm to be in your position.”
***
After coffee, Becca had gone off to class. I didn’t have any courses until later, so I headed back to the dorm to work on the entertainment piece I’d completely missed the deadline for. It went surprisingly well, considering how long ago I’d done the interview. Then again, I had spent quite a bit of one on one time with the vocal guitarist. And writing the column made me realize that I really did want more of that, more of him. The only question was, how much more?
I was just contemplating that question when my phone dinged from across the room.
I decided not to answer it at first because I really had been in the zone, and I wanted to get the article to Marcus before my first class for the day. But when the next little bleep came, I realized that, whoever it was, wouldn’t leave me alone until they received a response from me so I abandoned the column and grabbed my phone off of my nightstand.
I opened the messaging app to find a text from a number I didn’t recognize.
What time do you want me to pick you up?
I tapped out my response: Who is this?
Your date.
I smirked at the phone, as if the person sending the messages might be able to see it. It was a local number, and there was only one person on campus that would offer to take me out on a date.
Oh, and would this date of mine happen to have tattoos and a guitar?
Yes, he does. And he’d really enjoy your company tonight.
Hmmm…first, he has to tell me how he got my number.
Best friends are amazing sources for obtaining necessary information. Like phone numbers for the hot girl on campus.
Good to know. I should thank her because dinner sounds great.
How about seven?
Sounds great. See you then.
Still smiling at the phone, not really sure what to think of our flirtatious little conversation, but flattered by the fact that he’d put forth the extra effort to ask Becca for my number, I realized that I didn’t have a reason to stall at all. In fact, in just twenty-four hours, I’d managed to pick up the pieces and turn my life back around. All that was left to do was turn in the completed column.
***
In just a little less than an hour, I walked through the door to Marcus’s office. My stomach was in knots, and I was sure my knees would give out at any second, but I was there with the completed column in hand. I could only hope that he’d accept it and let me keep my position.