“It’s nice. All the lights. What’s that?” He was pointing at the Blessed Virgin in Mrs. Maratelli’s front yard, currently draped in festive multi-colored twinkle lights.
“Um, that’s a Bathtub Madonna. Well, that’s what we call it. I don’t even know if it has a real name. Bathtub Madonnas are an old-fashioned Catholic thing. Mrs. Maratelli is eighty.”
“You know your neighbors by name?”
“Sure. I’ve lived here all my life. So have a lot of them. You don’t know any of your neighbors?”
“Well, with security—”
“Say no more. I get it.” Which she didn’t, but she could pretend to be sophisticated enough to understand his life.
Her hand was still in the crook of his arm. She’d made no move to take it away, and he’d made no move to shake her off. Despite the bone-chilling cold, she could feel nervous sweat prickling along her hairline. It was that third beer. It was still swimming in her head, giving everything a weird dreamlike quality. At least, she thought that was the beer. Through the flush of heat on her face, she felt the sting of something cold and wet.
“Oh.” Tilting her head back, she watched the snow start to fall around them, soft and silent. “It’s snowing.”
“I told you so.”
“Alex, do not ruin this magical moment by saying ‘I told you so.’”
“Magical?” She didn’t have to look at his face to know that eyebrow was arched dramatically, or that he’d aimed another one of those deadly, teasing grins in her direction.
“Snow is always magical.”
And this snow was particularly magical. The night was twinkling with a thousand lights around them, and her hand was still resting on his arm as the snow drifted down around them, catching on their clothes and hair.
When she looked at him, Alex was watching her, his expression unreadable.
“This is me,” she murmured, drawing to a stop at their wrought iron gate and finally letting go of him.
He looked up at the house. “It’s dark. Is anybody else home?”
“Dad is at Uncle Richie’s on City Island.” She smiled back over her shoulder as she moved through the gate and up the walk. “I wasn’t making him up.”
“Do you have aspirin?” His words came out in a rush as he followed behind her.
“Aspirin?”
“Those beers might give you a headache tomorrow. You should take some aspirin before you go to bed. It might help.”
Right. Beer. That had to be why he looked like some sort of mysterious, modern-day dark angel, standing there on the bottom step of her front stoop, the collar of his black wool overcoat turned up against the cold, his eyes fixed on hers. There’s no way she’d be having these trippy, fanciful ideas about him if she wasn’t a little buzzed, right?
She turned and unlocked the door. “Come on in. I’ll get you some aspirin.”
“I didn’t mean for me. I meant for you.” But he followed her inside.
No one had been home to turn on the lights since night fell, so the only light on was a small decorative wall sconce, next to the coatrack bench in the front hall. When she turned to face him, he straightened away from the door and took a step toward her. Her nerves and anxiety exploded at once, waging a battle as they raced through her bloodstream. Frozen, she stood rooted in place, unsure if she wanted him to stop where he was or come much, much closer.
He took a step closer. Her stomach clenched in almost painful anticipation.
“Wuff.” Spudge let his weight fall against her ankles like a sack of flour.
Alex backed up and looked down, chuckling. “Who’s this?”
As she ducked down to scratch his ears, she let her hair fall forward to cover her face and hide her confusion. That was a moment. It had flared up as clear and bright as day. She had no idea what might have happened next, but it hardly mattered, because her geriatric dog had lumbered in and put an abrupt end to it.
“This is Spudge.”
“Spudge?” he asked, unbuttoning his coat and hanging it on the rack. “Where did that come from?”
“I have no idea. He came with that name as a puppy and it just stuck. Spudge sort of fits him.”
“Yeah, it does.” Alex leaned down and ran a hand across Spudge’s bony head. “Hey, Spudge. You’re the Hufflepuff, I take it?”
“You remember that?”
He straightened back up. “I remember.” He was staring at her again, that focused gaze that made her whole body erupt with nerves. “Let me guess. You’re a Ravenclaw.”
Right.
“The kitchen’s back here,” she said, a bit too loudly as she abruptly turned away.
She led the way to the back of the house, not even pausing to draw a breath, not exhaling until she’d passed through the dining room and flipped the light on over the sink. She left the overhead kitchen light off. It would be like shining midday sun into this weird little bubble she’d fallen into, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to do that yet. In this dim half-light, she didn’t have to face the reality of what might be happening head-on.
Alex rested one hip against the kitchen counter as she retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and filled them at the sink. After sorting through a million half-empty packs of cough drops and expired antacids in the pantry by the basement stairs, she found the aspirin. Alex was still there, leaning on the counter, when she turned, pills in hand.
Not even back in the beginning, when she’d been fighting her forbidden crush on him, had she ever gotten as far as imagining him in her kitchen. It was like trying to imagine Prince Harry in your corner bodega. He just didn’t belong there, no matter how much mental photoshopping you engaged in.
But there was Alex, leaning against the scuffed, silver-flecked white Formica counter her great-grandmother had chosen, his very expensive black shoes standing on the ugly harvest gold linoleum floor her grandfather had laid down. As she approached him, holding out a glass of water and two pills, he set his phone down on the counter and reached out a hand. He was wearing a snug black sweater, something that looked luxuriously soft to the touch and painfully pricey. Even his dark denim jeans looked expensive. Alex, so beautiful, so golden, so out of reach.
But he was the same guy who’d bounced between multiple million-dollar homes with no one there to talk to but his nanny. Who’d happily gone away to boarding school at twelve just to have some company. He was the guy who’d confessed to her, an hour ago, that he’d nursed a secret and hopeless crush on her since they’d met.
His eyes, so vivid green in the daylight, were dark in the shadowy room. They never left hers as she tossed her aspirin back and downed half her glass of water in one go. Okay, he hadn’t been wrong about the water. She was wickedly thirsty. Because of the beer. Which was why it was probably a dumb idea to have invited him inside. And why it was an even dumber idea to stand here in the dark, in her empty house, practically willing something to happen.
Carefully, she set her glass on the counter, sensing him watching her over the rim of his own glass.
“Looks like it’s starting to stick,” she said, glancing at the backyard through the window over the sink. Back to talking about snow. Excellent, Jess.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him set his glass down, too. “Maybe we’ll get some accumulation.”
Her eyes had accustomed to the sight of him in her kitchen but the sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. When she brought her eyes back to meet his, all the other warring thoughts and conflicting emotions simply fell away, as insubstantial as smoke. He lifted his eyebrows, a question. She ducked her chin, a nod.
Alex made some small movement in her direction, no more than a straightening of his tall athlete’s body, a shifting of his weight toward her, and she was moving in response. All it took was her own step forward, just a matter of will, and they connected.
Snow, cold water, warm scotch...sensations tickled across her lips at the first soft brush, the slight urging to open. For a moment, they just swayed there, barely moving, scarcely breathing, the shock of ending up here drowning out every other thought or sensation. Then his mouth moved over hers and she forgot everything else.
His tongue, warm and tasting of scotch, stroked along hers, the caress setting off a dark lick of fire deep inside. His arm slipped around her back, pressing her body up against the length of his. She gave herself permission to touch anything she wanted, at last. Her palms shaped the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders under that soft black sweater. Her fingers traced the tight tendons of his neck, and then she went higher, plunging deep into that glorious hair, gripping, holding his head to hers, as the kiss deepened.
He made some small sound of surrender, falling into her, pressing her back against the counter. Then his mouth was momentarily ripped away from hers as his hands gripped her waist and he lifted, setting her on the counter. Their height difference vanished, but before she could look him in the eye from this vantage point, his mouth came back to hers, hungry and hard. Greedy, she took as much from him, indulging in something she felt like she’d been craving in desperation for years.
His hands were everywhere, and nowhere she needed them. On her face, in her hair, gripping the back of her neck, sliding down the length of her thigh. But her nipples hardened and she ached between her legs and he wasn’t there. Not yet.
Wrapping her calves around his hips brought him flush to her center, driving a soft huff of mingled pleasure and pain from his throat. His hand slid from the back of her knee up the length of her thigh to her ass, squeezing, dragging her closer. This time, the sound he made into her mouth was nothing but low, animal pleasure. As he angled his mouth across hers, his teeth scraped along her bottom lip, the sharp-edged pleasure of it cutting like a knife through the lush soft warmth of the kiss.
Her insides felt combustible, like all it would take was a single touch from him in the right place, and she’d go up like paper in an open flame. She writhed against him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and pressing her breasts to his chest. His large hand splayed across her rib cage, fingertips barely brushing the underside of her breast. A caress of her skin through her sweater, his hand gentling her, before he slid it higher to palm her. She arched in anticipation, her breasts aching for his touch.
“Wuff,” said Spudge, from somewhere down near Alex’s feet.
Slowly, their lips parted, letting in air, and a tiny bit of sanity. Drawing back, she opened her eyes and looked into his. Lust slowly gave way to confusion. His eyebrows drew together just the way she felt her own doing.
“Um,” she whispered.
“I don’t—” he murmured.
He took a step back. Her hands dropped away from his shoulders, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter instead. She looked down, needing a moment to clear her head, even though it seemed impossible.
“I...there’s someone. A guy.” She hadn’t thought about Peabody all night, but he still existed, and right now, she was struck with a disorienting sense of guilt. Did she owe him her loyalty when they hadn’t even met?
Alex scowled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I’m sort of...”
Did he have a girlfriend? Is that what he was trying to say? He’d been at dinner with her tonight, though, hadn’t he? He’d told her so. That was so much worse than whatever nebulous understanding she had with Peabody.
At that moment, his phone, lying forgotten on the counter, vibrated. They both looked toward it. It was from someone named Georgia.
I had so much fun tonight! <3
Jess slid off the counter, her feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. “You should probably go.”
“Right.” Alex snatched up his phone and stuffed it in his pocket.
Alcohol and secrets and a magical snowfall made for one heady drug and she’d just fallen head over heels under its spell.
Alex threw her one tight half smile. “I’ll see you around.”
The cold caught up to her all at once, chilling her to her bones. “Okay.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
She stayed where she was, hands gripping the kitchen counter to hold herself up, feeling cold and alone as she heard the front door slam behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
Lina was perched on the corner of Sally’s desk, chatting with Sally and Hassan, when Jess made her way to the front office at the paper.
“Goodness, what happened to you?” Sally cried when she saw her.
Jess’s hand flew to her face. She knew she didn’t look her best this morning, but she hadn’t thought it was that bad. “I, um...”
“You look like you didn’t sleep a wink last night,” Sally fussed.
“Right. That’s it. Terrible night’s sleep. Lina, can I talk to you?”
“Sure!” Lina was chipper and smiling this morning, a far cry from yesterday.
When Lina didn’t move, Jess jerked her chin in the direction of the break room, on the other side of the newsroom. “Alone?”
“Oh.” Lina hopped off Sally’s desk. “See you later, Hassan.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Lina asked when they’d reached the empty break room. “You look really freaked out.”
Nervously, Jess began tidying up the random salt and pepper packets left over from people’s takeout. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“With the good stuff, of course.”
Turning back to Lina, she gripped the edge of the counter behind her with both hands, bracing herself to force the words out. “I made out with Alex last night.”
Lina’s eyes went wide. “What?” Then she squeezed them shut and shook her head. “Forget the good stuff. Start at the beginning, because I need to know everything that happened.”
“I’m still not sure myself.” But Jess did her best, starting with Alex unexpectedly blowing into the bar, all the way through kissing him in her dark kitchen, to the badly timed text from his maybe-girlfriend, to his abrupt departure.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“That came out of nowhere, huh?”
The time had come to spill every sordid detail. She swallowed hard, eyes on the floor. “Um...not exactly.”
Lina was silent for a moment. “Okay, what are you not telling me?”
“Just...” Jess stopped, flinched, then took a deep breath. “We sort of did it once before. In college.”
“Did what?”
“Made out.”
“What? When?”
“It was just a dumb thing that happened at some stupid party.”
“What happened after?”
“Nothing happened. Because I thought...and then he thought... Anyway, we got our signals crossed. But it didn’t matter because by then, we hated each other.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you never told me about this, Jess. I told you all about Chase. You brought me Ben & Jerry’s and sat with me while I cried.”
A pang of guilt had her shifting uncomfortably. Keeping that ill-advised college encounter to herself hadn’t seemed like a big deal before. Denying it to herself meant denying it to the rest of the world, too. But she’d never thought about how that would make Lina feel.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted to forget it ever happened.”
“I guess I get that. So...you and Alex, huh?”
“Did you miss the part where his girlfriend
texted in the middle of it?”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I know he had dinner with her last night. And I know she’s texting him emoji hearts.”
Lina frowned. “Right. That’s pretty bad. I’m sorry, Jess.”
Jess huffed and waved her hands, like the memory was smoke, and she could just whisk it away. If only it were that easy. “It didn’t mean anything. We obviously have some physical chemistry and it got a little out of hand. I should never be alone with him when we’ve been drinking.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. I have Peabody, anyway.”
Lina rolled her eyes. “Right, that guy you’ve never even met.”
“Yet.” Although this morning, the thought of meeting Peabody didn’t cheer her the way it usually did. He felt almost like a character in a book she’d read, instead of someone she’d been talking to for weeks. “Enough about stupid Alex and his stupid girlfriend. How are you today? You seem much better.”
“I am. I went home and felt sorry for myself for the night, but now I’m done crying about it. Time to find a new story.”
“Good for you.”
“Thanks for yesterday. That was just what I needed.”
“I’m here for you, Lina. You know that. You’re my best friend.”
Hiking one mocking eyebrow, Lina drawled in exaggeration, “Such a good friend that you withheld the juiciest piece of gossip of our entire college career?”
“Guilty.” Jess laughed and covered her face with her hands. “Next time I make out with my mortal enemy, I promise, you’ll be the first to know.”
* * *
Jess was deep into an online city archive, pulling parking stats from past years, when she sensed someone approaching her desk. One glance from the corner of her eye told her it was Lauren. Great. Just what she needed.
“Hi, Lauren.”
Lauren’s face was a wall of disapproval, which was nothing unusual. “Jessica, can you come with me?”
“Is it important? I’m in the middle of something.”
Lauren’s eyes flicked dismissively to her computer monitor. “Leave that. Mariel needs to speak with you.”
The One I Love to Hate Page 15