His lips gave the barest twitch. “I only take necessities when I travel.”
I tipped my head to look at him. “You don’t live in Wellsford?”
“Just visiting. But I’m here six weeks. At least.”
Six weeks. It shouldn’t have made a difference. I had come here for the express reason of proving to myself I could do what I wanted. And I’d wanted Van.
Mission accomplished.
Damn it. I’d intended to be the one who walked away but now it seemed like he’d beaten me to the punch.
I struggled up, swinging my legs around to sit on the side of the bed.
“Where are you going?” Van sat up too, his fingers tightening on mine.
“Bathroom.” I wriggled free of his hold. I dropped a wink. “I’ll be back in a minute for round two.” It would be more fun to leave him hanging. At least he wouldn’t forget me for a while.
Van grinned appreciatively. “Sounds like a plan.” His gaze traveled down my nakedness. Then something flickered in his eyes as he came to my knee and his smile faded. “When you come back…uh…there’s something we need to talk about.”
“Sure thing.” I clutched my T-shirt to my chest. I was right to leave now.
I didn’t bother stopping at the bathroom but went straight for the living area, retrieving my skirt from the floor on my way to the door. I was pulling it over my hips when I heard Van moving in the bedroom.
“Jess?”
I muffled a curse, pausing to scoop up my sandals, my heart thudding in my throat. I needed to go before Van spelled out the twenty reasons why this had been a bad idea. That was always what “we need to talk about something” meant. Hell, I had a hundred reasons of my own why this was a bad idea. I didn’t need to hear his.
“Jess!” Frustration gave Van’s voice a hard edge as he called out again.
No hesitation. I opened the door and escaped into the night as fast as my knee would carry me.
By the time I climbed back up to my balcony, I was giggling to myself, high on adrenaline. Had I really just burst into Van’s apartment, fucked him, and left? I stifled another snort of laughter. And I had classes tomorrow. What the hell was I going to do if I saw him on campus?
A tingle of warmth fluttered through my belly, followed by a twist of regret that stopped my amusement in its tracks. This was for the best. Better to finish it now while I was on top. I was renowned for throwing myself into things—rash, impetuous things. That was how I was. All or nothing.
And where Van was concerned, nothing was the only solution. I liked him. He was funny and caring and hot as hell. He did things to me, evoked feelings I thought had been damaged beyond repair. But Van’s apartment was a reflection of his clutter-free life. He was transient. No baggage. He only took care of the important things. Like condoms.
I was clutter. I came with a whole lot of extra baggage. In the end I would only burden him, exactly as I did Cole.
Chapter Seven
Jess
Ergh.
I had to pretend I didn’t notice Madison emerging from Cole’s bedroom the next morning. I buried my face in my muesli, chowing down so fast milk spattered all over the counter.
I mopped it up, hoping to avoid…
“You need a ride to class?”
Too late, Cole came to the door, rubbing at his chest. His naked chest.
“Ah. No thanks.” I grabbed up my bag and hightailed it out the door, vowing to get the hell out of dodge a little earlier tomorrow morning. Nobody deserved to have their day start with the knowledge their brother had gotten laid.
Especially when my own night had been achingly satisfying on one level, and hollow and uneasy on another. I didn’t regret going to see Van, but there was the manner of my leaving. I cringed at my own moxie. I’d never thought I was one of those fast and free kind of girls.
Hell, I didn’t even know his last name.
Jayne would know, except I wasn’t in any of her classes on a Monday, so I didn’t have an opportunity to find out more information about the mysterious Van.
I caught up with Tash in between lectures and we stopped in the cafeteria to grab coffee. The conversation was a little awkward to start with, Tash no doubt feeling bad about spilling the beans to Cole. I couldn’t have cared less. My new living arrangement was already a lot more interesting than living with Mike and Brad. Ick, Brad—someone I hadn’t given a second thought to since leaving Mike’s house yesterday.
“It’s not your fault. It’s Cole. He hates seeing me have any fun.” I leaned back in my chair. “God, you would have thought I was living under a bridge, his face when he saw the house.” I did a grotesque imitation of Cole’s expression.
“Yeah, he can be a bit over the top.” Tash started to come around. “But…” she paused and glanced at me. “I do kinda think he made the right call about Mike’s house.”
“There was nothing wrong with it.” I reserved my right to defend my choice of accommodation to the bitter end.
“It was a bit of a dump,” Tash maintained.
“More than a bit.” I snorted.
We looked at each other and kicked into laughter. It felt good to let go—all of the pent-up frustration at my brother’s high-handed treatment, the exhilaration after seeing Van last night, spilled out in a bout of laughter that just wouldn’t quit. I clutched at my sides, my eyes streaming. I couldn’t care less that everyone in the cafeteria was staring at me as if I was crazy. I probably was.
“So, we’re okay.” Tash wiped at her eyes when the hysteria quieted down to a few stilted chuckles.
“Absolutely.” I shook out my hands, feeling so much better now. “In fact, you know what? We should get out this weekend. Go crazy.” My excitement rose as I got that feeling—that hard, repressed feeling—like my insides were going to burst if I didn’t do something. “We could try out those kayaks we saw for hire last week, or go camping in the mountains?” I loved being spontaneous. Coming up with an idea and just doing it. No holding back. My foot jiggled against the floor, my brain scrambling for ideas. “I’ve always wanted to do a tandem sky—”
“No,” Tash cut in, her abrupt refusal surprising me into silence.
Frustration bubbled up into my chest. “Why not?”
Tash gave me a look. “You always do this. Every time Cole stops you from doing things you shouldn’t, you get all antsy and want to drag me and Jayne off to do crazy shit.”
“What’s wrong with that?” I huffed out a breath, trying to keep hold of my temper. “What’s wrong with being a little wicked now and then?” Even as I said the words, my hit and run on Van flashed into my mind. I shook my head. It wasn’t the same. The trip to Idaho had only failed because we’d run out of petrol. And the aborted casino visit would have gone better if Tash hadn’t trusted me with all the money…
“Because you never think it through.” Tash broke into my thoughts. “You know I love you to bits, Jess. You’re my favorite kind of therapy. But I can’t keep picking up the pieces.”
“I’m not asking you to.” I grumbled, slumping in my seat. “How about if I make it something boring then? Shall we knit an afghan for an orphanage in Botswana…would you and Nana Jayne be up for that?”
“Absolutely.” Tash flashed a grin. We’d been friends too long for either of us to get offended easily. Especially when I was in this kind of mood. “Now, what about this guy from the party?” Tash’s brow furrowed with concern. “I think we should call Jayne and find out more about him.”
I shrugged. Part of me had expected Van to come leaping out of the woodwork at some stage today. I had given Tash a very edited version of the party, leaving out all the bits that had happened afterward. Tash would definitely not understand. Hell, I didn’t understand half of it myself.
“I’ll see Jayne at the clinic, I guess.”
I stuffed my notebook back in my bag with a grimace. Yet another round of pointless workouts and being rapped on the knuckles for not sticking to the prescribe
d physical diet.
Oh. Fucking. Joy.
At least I’d see Jayne there. Maybe I could find out more about the yummy professor. Starting with where the hell he was hiding.
Chapter Eight
Jess
“You!” I hissed out, my hand stuck on the door handle of the treatment room.
It was no wonder I hadn’t seen Van around campus. He was the shiny new toy the physio staff had been talking about. He was the physiotherapist they’d been pushing me to see.
All of the tumblers clicked into place as I figured out where I’d seen Van before. The thumbnail photo at the top of his introduction letter, the one I’d thrown in the trash four weeks ago. Van, AKA Vance Sheffield. Tash and I had joked about licking his smarmy smile right off his face.
My gaze flicked to the real deal, in full living color. His photograph did him no justice. No wonder I’d missed it.
Which didn’t make me feel any better.
In fact I felt a hundred times worse when I realized Van must have known who I was. I pressed a fist against the lurch and roll of my stomach. He had to have read my file.
“You knew! Didn’t you?”
Anger rose in a wave of ice, splashing over me like a cold sweat as I advanced on him. Van said nothing. Just watched me with a guarded expression. Silence wasn’t going to let him off the hook. One tiny smirk and I’d clock him.
“Well? Did you?” My voice grew harder. “Did you know who I was when you came to my party? When you fucked me?”
Van’s head snapped up and he glanced around the hallway.
“Keep it down,” he hissed, hauling me into his room and snicking the door shut.
I ripped my arm free of his hold.
“Just answer the question!” I let loose with my anger, holding nothing back. Fuck it. I’d liked him. Really liked him.
Van backed off to stand at the other end of the office, giving me space.
“I didn’t intend for it to happen,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair.
“I’ll bet.” Sarcasm dripped in great steaming globules. “Yeah, I heard you protest real loud when you took me to bed.”
“You wouldn’t let me say anything,” Van threw back. “I tried to tell you. Several times, in fact.”
“I only covered your mouth with my hand. I didn’t staple it shut,” I said scathingly. “Although now I wish I had.”
We shared a look. Van wiped at his mouth and I knew neither of us had forgotten anything about that night. It had been a wicked, wonderful thing.
“Of course I didn’t say anything.” Van’s voice softened as he came closer. “You’re beautiful. And I wanted you.” He stopped just shy of touching me, hands outspread. “You wanted me too.”
“I really don’t remember.” I sniffed, hoping he’d mistake the heat staining my cheeks as embarrassment and not what it really was. Pure unadulterated lust. Even after knowing who he was and what he’d done, there was something about Van I found hard to resist.
The air around me shifted and I knew he’d moved closer still. Fire crept from my face, down suddenly aching nipples, curling low in my stomach. I kept my gaze on the floor, determined not to look up.
“Want me to remind you?” His voice was low and purring, and I felt myself melting into it. I could see his mouth forming those words in my mind, the smolder in his eyes. Total invitation.
I swallowed with difficulty, trying to hold on to my anger. Everyone knew anger drove other hormones. And I was so damn angry right now, all I wanted was to shove Van to the floor and fuck his brains out. Violently.
“I didn’t think so.” He moved away with a dry chuckle.
His retreat allowed me the room I needed to clear my head. I leaned back against the door, looking across at him. He wore blue jeans and a fitted business shirt all buttoned up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Hard muscled thighs clung to the outline of his pants. Not stretchy pants like other therapists wore. No. His clothes were designed to show off every hard ridge of muscle.
Damn him.
Van so didn’t deserve to register on my hotness meter. But then, he must’ve known I was coming today. He’d worn these for me?
Anger sparked back to life as I understood how subtly I had was being played.
“So, now we have that out of the way, shall we talk about your place on my treatment program?” he asked.
I stiffened as Van hammered home the final nail in his coffin. The real reason he’d come after me at the party.
Anger bubbled out of the well of anger that lay deep inside me, the seething heat of it spilling up through my gut, spreading out through my chest. I crossed my arms to hold it all in.
“Surely you don’t think I’m going near your program now?” I stared down both barrels at him. Cool and calm topped screaming banshee any day. I had learned that the hard way. “You’d be going against your oath. Sleeping with a patient?”
“You’re not a patient.” Van’s mouth twitched, adding a splash of fuel to the slow-burning fire in my stomach. “I don’t take on clients. I train the staff to carry out the program.”
“So that’s how you get around this?” I waved my hands, indicating the room and myself.
A shadow crossed his face. “I’ve never done that before.”
I forced back the bitter taste welling in my throat. He was just like Cole. Controlled and controlling. A keen edge of disappointment cemented my resolve.
“Well, count me out of the program. I won’t be part of it. Not now. Not ever.”
Van’s jaw tightened, revealing the first tic of displeasure. “Can you at least tell me why?”
“I can give you a thousand good reasons,” I said, dropping my hands, tired of it all. A stupid program wasn’t going to fix my leg. I was always going to have scars, a limp, aches and pains. Why couldn’t they accept that like I had? “It’s bullshit. Some special program is supposed to fix me?” I snorted. “Been there. Done that.”
I’d only agreed to meet with Vance Sheffield today because I was worried I might end up back in surgery if my leg muscles continued to spasm. I had been lying through my teeth to the clinic staff about it getting better. Joining Van’s rehabilitation program had been my last chance, but there was no way I was going ahead with his treatment now.
Breath hitched in my chest. I didn’t want Van to view me as a patient. Like I was less than whole. I needed to be more than an injury.
“You’ve been doing the same treatment for two years,” Van kept on and I scowled. He was so confident he was right. That he knew better. “There’s a lot more I can do. My program is designed for people like you. The success rate—”
“Oh, keep going, buddy. You’re saying all the right things.” Acrid resentment burned up through the back of my throat. Van didn’t see me at all. Just the injury.
“Would you really cut your nose off to spite your face?” His air of reasonableness crumbled, hints of frustration cutting through his professional, medical mask. “Why not give my program a go? It might be good for you.”
I let out a short laugh. “Good for me? Oh, yes. I must do what’s good for me.”
How many times had I heard those words when it came to doing things I didn’t want to do. No. Van had conveniently forgotten the fact I was a woman. I sure as hell wasn’t going to hang around to be reminded of that any more.
“You’re being obtuse.” The vein in his jaw thumped under his skin.
“Using a big word doesn’t change the fact you’re not listening. I’ll do what’s best for me. And what’s best for me is not to do it.”
“You know that’s not true, Jess.” Van tried another tack, his tone softening. He even slid a nice hint of regret into his voice.
He was good.
But I’d heard it before. I shook my head.
“Says you. And everyone knows physiotherapists are wannabe doctors in disguise.” It was a bitchy comment and I wasn’t proud of it—but hey, he’d started this.
Van threw
back his head and let out a chortle of genuine laughter.
“You know nothing about me.” His gaze bit into me. “The last thing I want is someone helpless and needy, relying on my every word to tell them what to do. So try again, little girl.”
“Not so little you didn’t take up the offer to fuck me,” I threw back.
Van straightened, standing opposite me like a gunslinger, pulling a trigger-happy glare. I grew short of breath, my lungs constricting as his gaze heated, slipped down past my lips, flicking across my body. I guessed what he was thinking. What we were both remembering. Naked and twined around each other, skin slick with sweat…the thrust of his cock, his whispered urgings a background to my screams of pleasure…
Warmth flooded my limbs and my eyes took their own little wander down memory lane. I paused at his hips, the sexy spot where his waist dipped in, marked with twin freckles I’d wanted to lick…
“Obviously, that was a mistake,” Van said.
I snapped my attention back to his cold, hard stare. My cheeks heated but I refused to drop my eyes.
“Well, at least you’re being honest.” I was proud of how icy and remote my voice sounded.
“Shit. Sorry.” Van tugged at his hair, his expression turning remorseful. He leaned against the desk, looking up through his lashes at me. “I’ll level with you. Okay? I just want you to do the program. You’re sexy and independent. Do you really want to rely on your brother for the rest of your life? I want to help you so you can ultimately help yourself.”
I blew out a breath as he changed tack again. Nice. Sexy. Honest. Conniving. I was getting whiplash trying to keep up.
“Of course you do.” I didn’t bother hiding my sarcasm. “You’re a consulting physiotherapist. That’s what you do.”
Especially when he was a hot, sexy therapist who’d stacked the cards in his favor. Would I have slept with Van if I’d known what he was? No…maybe… At the end of the day, it didn’t matter because he hadn’t bothered to find out.
“Last chance Jess.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “You either come on the program or you’ll miss out.”
“No thanks.” I didn’t need to think it over.
Her Release (One Night Stand Book 3) Page 5