by Steph Nuss
Not what I expected at all.
“A guy stands you up and you watch The Expendables? A movie full of men,” I stated, amused.
She shot me a half smile and shrugged. “I wanted to watch good guys kill the bad guys.”
“Understandable.” I untied my boots and stretched my legs up onto the coffee table next to hers. “What’s in the blender?”
“Orange juice margaritas,” she replied, never taking her eyes off the TV. “We were out of margarita mix.”
My stomached clenched at the idea of mixing orange juice and tequila. “Sounds awful.”
“Might as well drink how I feel,” she mumbled, spooning another bite of ice cream into her mouth. “What’s wrong with me? Did he show up, see me and leave, or did he forget? When did dating become so difficult?”
“I don’t know, but there’s nothing wrong with you.” Grabbing the pint from her hand, I scooped up a bite for myself and smiled. “Everyone gets stood up.”
“Oh, whatever!” she quipped, taking a long sip from the straw in the blender. “Have you looked in a mirror? I bet you’ve never been stood up!”
“You’d bet wrong,” I said, smiling.
She curled her legs up underneath her as she turned to face me. “Go on …”
The last topic I wanted to delve into tonight was my dating life in college as a teenager, but I would if it meant cheering her up. “Well, for starters, I didn’t look like this when I was younger.”
“Wow, I’m surprised you could get your big head into the apartment,” she teased.
“You know what I mean,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t have the shaggy hair or any muscles. I had a buzz cut, and I looked like a twig weighing in at ninety-eight pounds.”
“Okay,” she laughed, squinting her eyes at me. “I can’t really picture you like that, but I’ll try.”
Sighing, I leaned my head against the couch and studied the ceiling as mental flashbacks from those early college days entered my mind. “The first girl to stand me up was this blonde who cheated off me during every statistics test. I offered to tutor her, and she took me up on it. We set up a time to meet at the library, but she never showed. She continued cheating off me. The second girl was one I thought actually liked me. She’d always ask me to explain what the professor was talking about, which I took as her flirting with me. I asked her out to see a movie; she agreed but never showed up at the theater. The third girl was in a sorority. She invited me to a frat party after I helped her ace a test, but when I got to the party, she wasn’t there and her boyfriend ended up pouring a beer on my head. The fourth—”
“Justin,” Tessa interjected softly. She placed her hand on my right cheek and turned my head toward her. Her skin felt so soft and warm, I had to mentally tell myself not to cover her hand with mine. Her beautiful eyes glistened with sincerity instead of pity, which made me want to grab her neck and pull her in for a kiss. “How many times have you been stood up?”
“Seven.”
She smiled weakly and ran her hand through my hair. “Some girls are assholes.”
“As are some men,” I replied, unable to resist touching her. I pressed a quick kiss to the inside of her wrist and then let her go. “You know it’s not your fault he stood you up tonight, right?”
She nodded silently, smiling back at me.
“Then don’t give him the power to make you feel awful.”
Taking a deep breath, she brushed a hand through her curls and exhaled. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to do something besides sit here and drink and eat ice cream? We could go out. You were so excited to wear that dress tonight, I’d hate for you to waste it on a night in with Sylvester Stallone and his mercenary buddies.”
“No, I want to stay here,” she laughed, leaning her head against my shoulder. “Because they’re hot mercenaries!”
“My bad,” I chuckled.
She lifted her head, leaned in and kissed my cheek. I gazed into her bloodshot eyes, warning me of her apparent drunkenness as my eyes drifted down to her soft pink lips and settled.
Do not kiss her, Jameson.
Her own gaze studied my face and ended up on my mouth.
Don’t kiss me either, Tessa. I won’t be able to stop if I get a taste of you.
“You’re the best, Justin.” Skimming her fingertips over the scruff of my beard, she giggled. “I like the facial hair you have going on right now, too. The way it feels against my skin …”
Holy shit.
“So rough yet soft at the same time,” she continued, like she had no idea of how effective she was. “It’s a good look on you.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you approve.” I grabbed her wrist abruptly and pulled her hand away from my face. I stood up fast, before she could make another move, and glanced down at her. Confusion marred her face, causing a dull ache to pound in my chest as I tried to get us back on even ground. “Should I make us some more orange juice margaritas? Maybe we can find another action movie to watch.”
“No,” she yawned, raising her hands above her head. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”
“Okay.” I picked up the ice cream container and the blender and carried them into the kitchen. I tossed the empty pint in the trash and rinsed the spoon and blender jar in the sink, storing them in the dishwasher.
“Could you unzip me?”
Turning around, I found Tessa standing near the hallway with her back to me, her long hair pulled over her right shoulder. Her sweet words sent a shiver down my spine, and I had to remind myself that she was drunk. No matter how much I wanted this with her, I wouldn’t take advantage of her.
Not now. Not ever.
“Sure.” I wandered over to her and reached for her zipper, hands slightly shaking. The peachy, cherry scent of her made me smother a groan, and I felt my control weakening.
What is she doing to me?
As I unzipped her dress, I tried to think about less arousing topics like my grandma, work, and orange juice margaritas. In an attempt to respect her privacy, I stopped before her bra strap, though the zipper traveled all the way down to the small of her back.
“All the way, please,” she requested, smiling back at me over her shoulder. “The zipper gets stuck.”
I unzipped it the rest of the way, feeling tortured in my jeans the farther south I went. The smooth, pale flesh of her back peeked through along with the gray lace of her bra, and I grew eager to see her without the dress. The heat coming off of her made me want to bend her over the kitchen island and trail kisses down her spine before ripping the dress off completely.
“Thanks!” she said, holding the dress in the front.
“Goodnight,” I offered, admiring her backside one last time before she entered the hall.
“Sleep tight!” she cheered drunkenly.
I’m tight all right.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, I woke with a hangover from hell. My cheeks felt like they’d been lined with cotton balls. Every time I blinked, an obnoxiously painful set of fireworks went off behind my eyeballs and they weren’t pretty. The headache pounding through my temples made getting out of bed for yoga nearly impossible, but I did it.
I threw on a tank and yoga pants, gathered my hair up into a ponytail and slipped on my tennis shoes. I grabbed my coat and purse and walked out into the hall, where I heard voices.
Who would be here this early in the morning?
Sliding my arms into my coat, I rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw Justin sitting at the island having coffee with a woman wearing only a towel. Her dark hair was still wet from a shower, and her face appeared absolutely flawless even without makeup. I had no idea who she was, but I instantly grew self-conscious of my yoga look, knowing without a doubt that I looked terrible this morning.
“Hey,” I muttered, walking over to the fridge without making eye contact with either of them. “Don’t mind me. Just grabbing a water.” As I crossed by them quickly, the distant scent of
my shower gel filled my nostrils, and anger poured into my veins. Did she use my stuff? Who the fuck does that?
“Tess—”
“Gotta go. I’m going to be late for yoga.” I grabbed a water bottle and slammed the fridge door. I rushed out of the apartment even though I really wasn’t running late. Seeing him with another woman, especially one that oozed sex appeal like her, made me forget all about my hangover as a new pain settled in my chest and my stomach twisted into a million knots. Did he invite her over after I went to bed last night? After I practically threw myself at him, he denied me and made a booty call instead? Why else would she be hanging out in the apartment wearing just a towel?
I ran all the way to Jones Jym in the freezing cold to stop my mind from wondering about the two of them. How could Justin be so stupid? He was turned on last night. I knew it. He knew it. The bulge in his pants knew it! What was his deal? Why couldn’t he see how much I wanted him? Instead, he called another woman. Maybe I really wasn’t good enough for him.
A few blocks away, my phone beeped with an email notification. A new message from a different guy interested in setting up a date sat at the top of my inbox. Without another thought, I clicked on it, read his profile and then replied agreeing to dinner.
Third time’s a charm, right?
Wrong. I only set up that date to rid my thoughts from Justin and the woman in the kitchen, which only pissed me off more.
“Hey, Tessa,” Maverick called, as I stormed through the doors of the gym. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” I sneered, narrowing my eyes at him. “What’s up is that I live with the stupidest smart guy! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with him?”
“Whoa,” he said, pulling me off to the side. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and I hugged him back as I burrowed my head into his shoulder. “What happened?”
“It’s stupid,” I said, shaking my head. Tears filled my eyes and before I knew it they were falling onto my cheeks.
“Tessa,” he whispered, brushing my tears away. “Tell me what happened so I can go kick his ass.”
“Mav, I really don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled, drying my face with my hands. “I just want to go to yoga and forget about men altogether.”
“Will you at least talk to the girls about it?” he asked, eyeing me closely.
I nodded and gave him a weak smile. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
***
We were seated in meditation, but I was far from relaxed. With my eyes shut, I kept replaying this morning over in my head and comparing the woman to myself. Where I had fair skin, she had naturally sun-kissed skin like Justin’s. She had an organic, sexy rasp to her voice that I lacked, which made me even more envious of her since she didn’t sound like she smoked a carton of cigarettes a day.
“Okay, now let’s move into downward dog,” the instructor stated in a soft, annoying voice.
“I can’t do this today,” I complained, stretching out flat against my mat. Lying on my back, I stared up at the ceiling, fully intent on staying like this for the rest of class.
“If I have to do this,” Elly muttered, struggling into the position. “You have to do it.”
Shaking my head, I disagreed. “I’m hungover.”
“I’m pregnant!” she exclaimed, laughing. “I win.”
“Not happening today, Jennings,” I said, in a sour tone.
“So, Justin left the bar early last night and you guys got drunk?” Bayler teased. “Did anything else happen? Please tell me something happened!”
“Unfortunately, no.” I swallowed around the ball in my throat and crossed my ankles. “He came home. I’d already been drinking from being stood up—”
“Wait, you were stood up last night?” Harper asked, completely confused.
“By who?” Paige continued. “The Milo guy?”
“Yes, Milo,” I stated, rolling my eyes. “Anyway, when Justin got home, I was already pretty tipsy, and feeling sorry for myself. He told me about all the times he’s been stood up, and I ended up giving him a kiss on the cheek and running my hand through his hair. He practically jumped off the couch like I was some infectious disease he couldn’t wait to get away from, even though I could tell he was turned on.”
“He probably—”
“Oh no, it gets worse,” I stated, twirling my ponytail around my finger. “This morning, I woke up and heard voices in the kitchen. When I walked in, I found some bitch in a towel sitting at the island with him having coffee. Her hair was still wet from a shower, and she smelled like me!”
“Ladies!” the instructor barked. “Quiet, please!”
Elly furrowed her brows and shook her head. “Are you saying Justin had a girl over last night?”
“Yes!” I whispered loudly. “After he unzipped my dress for me—”
“Nice,” Bayler smirked. “I can’t believe he didn’t jump you after that. Fletcher knows when I ask him to undo my dress, it’s on.”
“Right?” I reiterated. “Most guys do.”
“We’re not talking about most guys here though,” Elly explained.
“Elly’s right. This is Justin,” Paige stated, as they all changed into the next pose. “He’s not going to take advantage of you, drunk or not.”
“And I can’t see him making a booty call either,” Harper continued. “He’s too nice to make a booty call.”
“Well, how else do you explain the woman this morning?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “She didn’t magically appear out of thin air. He had to invite her over after I went to bed.”
“What did she look like?” Elly asked and then huffed out an exasperated breath. She turned her attention to her belly. “I love you, kid, but I don’t like you kicking me in the bladder.”
“You okay?” I asked, rubbing her back.
“The kid’s just really active this morning,” she said, turning onto her back next to me. “Go on. What did she look like?”
I sighed. “She looked like Mila Kunis’ doppelgänger!”
Paige and Elly started laughing, and then Paige asked. “Are you sure it wasn’t Whitley?”
“She does look like Mila,” Elly smirked.
“Who the hell is Whitley?” I asked, brows furrowed, matching Bayler and Harper’s.
“Whitley lives across the hall from Justin,” Elly explained.
“How have you lived there for a month and not met her?” Paige asked, shaking her head.
I sat up and stared at the four of them. “I don’t know. I haven’t even heard of her until now. How do you two know her?”
“We don’t really know her,” Elly said, rubbing her belly. “I’ve only seen her once, but I’ve heard Mrs. J. mention her a few times when she’s brought food over.”
Mrs. J., also known as Janice Jameson, was Elly’s neighbor before she and Carter moved into the penthouse in their building. Mrs. J. liked to spoil us all like we were her other grandchildren.
“Doesn’t she have a kid?” Paige asked.
“Yeah, I think his name is Zane.”
“Okay …” Bayler moved into the next pose and then continued, “That still doesn’t explain why she was at Justin’s place this morning … in a towel.”
“I think you need to ask Justin about it,” Harper said with a smile. “He’ll tell you why she was there, and he’s not going to lie to you. It’s your place now, too. You have a right to know why someone was using your stuff in the shower.”
“Did she use your razor, too?” Bayler asked with a cringe. “Because that’s gross.”
“I don’t know,” I answered, feeling annoyed. “I didn’t check before I left.”
“Well, throw it out if she did.”
I laughed, shaking my head at her. “Thanks, Bayler. That’s the best advice I’ve heard all day.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling proudly.
Elly reached for my hand and placed it on her belly. “Are you going to be okay?”
I felt Baby
Jennings kick against my hand and smiled. “Yeah, I already have another date set up for Sunday.”
All four of my friends’ eyes glared back at me, clearly trying to kill me with their stares.
“I know!” I cried, covering my face with my hands. “But I was pissed off at Justin this morning, and I had a message from a guy wanting to grab dinner.”
“Please tell me this is the last one,” Elly warned. “I don’t know if I can take listening to anymore of your awful dates.”
“Yeah, I’m going to close my account on the dating site after the dinner date.”
“Thank God!” Paige, Harper and Bayler muttered in unison.
Elly pulled my hand away from my face and shot me a comforting smile. “We love you, Tessa, but we already know which guy will make you happy. You just need to give him the opportunity to do so.”
“Talk to him,” Harper reiterated. “Maybe Whitley just needed sugar for her coffee.”
“The minute she got out of the shower?” Bayler asked incredulously, shooting her sister an annoyed glare.
“Hey, I’m trying not to jump to conclusions here,” Harper stated.
Bayler rolled her eyes. “And the rest of us are trying to be realistic. Please, do join us.”
Harper shoved Bayler off her mat and smiled at us. “All I’m saying is that Mav would be pissed at me if I accused him of sleeping with a woman before talking to him about it. It’s all about trust. If you can’t trust him, it’s never going to work.”
“She’s right,” Elly said, nodding. “Carter would be mad, too.”
“Ugh,” Bayler groaned. “I learned my lesson with Fletcher.”
“You’ll feel better after you talk to him,” Paige insisted.
They smiled at me, which did nothing to ease my anxiety as I thought about how Justin might react. He’d probably be hurt, and the last thing I wanted was to become the eighth woman to let him down. “I’ll talk to him later.”
***
Saturday afternoon, I walked onto the basketball courts and was met with a strong, hard shove from Maverick. He pushed me up against the wall and pinned me there, his angry eyes glaring at me.