She’s pissed and looks past me.
“Carmyn, I’m sorry, all right? I’m just not used to people regretting their night spent with me for the same reasons you are. It’s something new to me, and I guess I didn’t handle it well.”
Her face softens and her eyes meet mine, although her jaw is still set.
“I had fun with you then, and I had fun with you tonight.” This is the first time I can honestly say that I really enjoyed myself without taking a woman back to her place. “Friends?”
“Oh, so you want to be friends now?” she asks. Not sure why that surprises her.
“Well, we’re not dating, and you have yet to see the last of me, so what should we call it?”
“Acquaintances.”
I chew on that for a second as Ava rolls up. “I can deal with that.”
Carmyn nods and starts toward the car.
“Carmyn?”
She looks over her bare shoulder at me, lips puckered in question.
“I’m going to be the best damn acquaintance with benefits you’ve ever had.”
She opens the door, a ghost of a smile on her face.
I turn around to go inside and settle my tab with Gina. Tonight is going to be the first time in a long-ass time that I spent a night with a woman in a bar and didn’t fuck her. Well, I guess I did fuck Carmyn, but that was a different night. Things with Carmyn are already back-ass-backwards, but I’m pretty sure Carmyn won’t do it any other way.
And I kind of like it.
“I’m learning you can’t plan chemistry with someone else.
It’s either there, or it isn’t.”
—Carmyn Rafferty
AFTER my last class of the week, I head over to the library to meet Dallas.
He groaned when I mentioned I wanted to get an early start on our project. “A Friday night spent in the library? You have got to be kidding me, Rafferty.”
I smiled, throwing his own words back at him, “’Dibs on your group, Rafferty.’”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “There’s still plenty of time to get started on this project. Why don’t we go out for a beer instead?” The wicked grin spreading across his tan, stubbled face tempted me, but I’m a planner, and whether he knew about it or not, my Friday night was always going to be spent starting on this project.
“You wanted to be my partner, and you got it. So either we work when I want to, or I’ll ask Keating to swap me to someone who will.” I’m not really that mean, but I will hold this over his head every chance I get. Especially since he pulled that hairy-mole bullshit on me.
I reach the stairs to the computer lounge when my phone vibrates in my pocket. It better not be Dallas trying to cancel on me.
I pull it out and see it’s Mom’s number from her current rehab stint.
Just great.
I cancel the call. She calls me a lot more when she’s in rehab. I wait until the phone notifies me of the message and check it.
“Hi, Carmyn.” Her voice carries her accent, but the usual slur when she’s been using is absent. “We need to talk. I’m in rehab. I’ve been sober for fifteen days now. Please call me back.” She gives me the number—she gives it to me every time she leaves me a message. I won’t call her back, though. I’m happy she’s getting clean, or trying to be because it never seems to last long outside of rehab. I’ve tried to help her through her programs before. Part of her healing is to make amends to those she’s hurt. And she tries to say she’s sorry, but she always ends up blaming me for the divorce.
Still, after all these years.
I just can’t do it anymore. Nothing changes. Until she quits blaming me and takes responsibility for her actions, nothing ever will.
I take a deep breath, calming myself before climbing the stairs up to the computer lounge. I find Dallas in the far corner, leaning his chair against the wall on its back two legs. His hair is pulled back with a wet look, like he just got out of the shower, and he’s wearing a light blue V-neck T-shirt that is low enough to offer me a peek of the tattoo below his collar bone. And his tattooed arm is resting behind his head. Even the detail on the underside of his arm is amazing. I’m almost transfixed by it.
A smile stretches across his smooth lips when he sees me, and he drops the chair onto all four legs.
I rest my bag on the floor next to the table. “You look awfully comfortable. Have you been waiting long?” Oh my God. He smells amazing. He did just get out of the shower. Based on his smell alone, I’m imagining myself doing wicked things to him right here in the library. Okay, it might also be the way he was leaning back. And the low-cut shirt. And the way he smiles when he sees me. The fact that we’ve already slept together does absolutely nothing to ease the sexual tension. I am so in trouble.
“Not long enough to come up with a viable argument to convince you we should be somewhere else tonight, so I guess we’ll be working, your highness.”
I laugh and sit at the computer next to him. “All right. Do you already have a company in mind?” I pull out my notes and the project requirements from my bag.
“I was thinking Samsung would be a good one to analyze. They’re global and have multiple product segments. We could probably pick two or three and that should give us a broad-enough range without taking on too much.”
I stare at him, impressed. For some reason, I figured I’d be doing most of the work. “What’s your major?”
“Finance.”
“You have to take strategic management for finance?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not taking this class for fun.”
“Right. Okay, yeah, I like Samsung. Let’s go with them. Do you want to start with their segments, then, and I’ll start gathering their history?”
“That works.” Dallas adjusts his seat forward and turns on the computer.
I keep looking at him out of the corner of my eye. He does this thing where he rubs the stubble on his chin when he’s thinking. From kissing him the night he won in darts, and then again the night we … Well, I know that his stubble is long enough to be past that sharp phase. It’s prickly enough to let you know it’s there, but it’s not scratchy to where it’s trying to give you a sandpaper facial.
I get as much useable data from this webpage as I can and look over at Dallas again, catching him staring at me. “What?”
“You chew on your bottom lip when you type.”
Ha! He’s been watching me too. “Well, you rub your hairy chin when you read.”
His grin tilts lopsided at me. “I like the way it feels underneath my nails. It’s relaxing.”
I laugh. “That’s random.”
“No, it’s not. Try it.” He reaches for my hand, but I pull it back.
“I am not rubbing your facial hair. That is just … weird.”
“It is not. And no one is watching or is even going to care if they do see you do it. Just touch it and I’ll leave you alone about it.”
I fist my hand in my lap under the table because it’s twitching to betray me and touch his face.
“Carmyn,” Dallas says with a blank face and a serious tone. “Touch. It.”
Oh my God! Now he sounds dirty. I widen my eyes at him, and he grins at my response.
He lowers his voice to a sultry level. “Carmyn, I’m going to need you to touch it. Right now.”
I laugh so hard that the people at the computers across the room look over. I duck my head behind the monitor and cover my mouth. I know he’s only messing with me, but that voice, oh Lord! I don’t think I can deny him when he talks to me like that. I peek over the monitor to check if the people are still looking over here. They’re not. “Okay,” I say and reach out.
He grins and tips his head back, giving me full access to his chin.
I stroke my fingers up his chin and along his jaw, and then bend them so the nails catch the stubble on the way down. The soft but firm hairs catch under my nails and tickle my nail beds. It’s actually soothing, something I’d like to do while lying in b
ed as I’m trying to fall asleep.
I jerk my hand away. I should not be having these thoughts. And I should definitely not be having these thoughts about him. A one-night stand was all I planned. Sure, he blackmailed me to hang out with him the other night, and he managed to wrangle his way in as my project partner, but that doesn’t mean I should be acting this way around him. If anything, having him as my project partner should urge me to act more professional.
“See?”
“Yeah, it’s soft and not soft at the same time.”
“Sort of like your lips,” he says with a low, deep voice.
My eyes widen and I shake my head to avoid him catching the heat rushing my cheeks.
“So, I think I’m about done with my segments. What are you doing after this?”
“I have a Beta Alpha Psi activity.”
He frowns like he sucked on something sour.
I chuckle. “You’re welcome to come if you’d like.”
“I’ll pass.” He waits for me to finish my section, and then we turn off our computers together. “You sure you don’t want to skip your activity and come with me?”
“I better not. Ava will kick my ass. She’s the president.”
“Ah,” he says and stands, leaning toward my ear. “Too bad we won’t be spending the rest of the night the way I preferred.”
Chills break out along my arms. That one statement holds so much promise, I’m slightly regretting it along with him.
He grins as he grabs his notebook and then walks away. He doesn’t ask me to do something with him tomorrow night, which must mean he has other plans. I brush off the slight disappointment as I grab my bag and trek across campus to the dorms.
OUR Beta Alpha Psi activity is a CPA managing partner who’s coming to talk to us about the industry. Ava has been excited about this one for a while because the guy comes from a bigger firm in the area. Events like this are important because although these people are going to school to get an accounting degree, most of them don’t really know what an accountant does. Or that there are tons of other career possibilities for an accounting degree holder. Plus, it’s good for making connections with people within the field. Another reason why I couldn’t miss tonight’s activity. I’m interested in working for this firm after graduation.
My plan is to work with a public accounting firm for a couple of years, and then move to a company’s internal accounting department. Eventually, I’ll move on to a bigger company and work my way up to CFO.
Our guest speaker goes over the normal day-to-day activities as well as what it’s like during tax season when the hours are long and packed. I appreciate his honesty, but also his enthusiasm for the specialty.
After he’s done answering questions, we help ourselves to the pizza and Coke. I grab a slice and sit back down.
Denton sits next to me, a plate resting on his lap. “So, what’s your plan after your bachelors?”
I smile up at him. I like a guy who likes planning. “I’ll get my MBA, my CPA, and then work for a larger firm for a while. I’d eventually like to work my way up to CFO.”
“Wow,” Denton says, impressed.
“What about you?”
“I plan to get my masters in accounting. I’m thinking I’d like to work in the construction industry. The accounting interests me with the percent complete stuff and everything else specific to the industry.” Denton’s not the typical guy you’d expect to see in the accounting program. Most of the guys are slightly balding and are pretty close to what you’d expect to see as a future accountant. Denton has dark, luscious hair that’s a little bit longer, brushing along the edges of his ears, and eyes as green as grass. I’ve always found him cute.
“Really?” I ask. “I was glad when percent complete was over with. You can have it.”
He laughs, and his boyish good looks have Ava looking over here. She winks at me. She approves. She thinks he’s cute too.
“So, I’ve been thinking—what are you doing tomorrow? Would you like to go out to dinner?”
I tilt my head at him in question. “Are you asking me out on a date?” I admit I’m flattered, even a little surprised he’s asking me.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I guess I am. Would you? Like to go with me, that is?” He’s so cute when he’s nervous. Aw, I make him nervous.
I haven’t been on a first date with anyone in such a long time, I’m not sure I even know how to date anymore. Ava is over by the table giving me the stink eye that I better say yes. I like a guy who has plans for his future. And Denton does. Why not? “Dinner?” I ask. I can probably swing a dinner.
“Yeah, or if there’s something else you’d rather do, we could do that instead.”
“No, dinner’s fine.”
He smiles, and his straight, white teeth catch my attention. Pretty teeth. Not quite the lips Dallas has, though.
Whoa! Where did that come from?
“Okay, seven? Or is that too late?”
“Seven’s good.” I get off work at five, so that’ll give me time to get ready. “Meet me by the fountain in the quad?”
He laughs and nods. “Yes, the fountain. Good times at that fountain.”
“Whatever,” I say and blush.
DENTON is a gentleman throughout the date. He opens doors for me, lets me order first, and his conversation is interesting. Even the Italian place he picked is really good. It’s just … that’s all it is. Maybe it’s too soon after Becker to start dating.
Even if they are plan-worthy.
After dinner, Denton walks me back to the quad and I’m pretty sure I have to tell him. “Thanks so much for everything. I had a good time. And don’t hate me for saying this, but I don’t think I’d be fair if I didn’t. I just wasn’t feeling it. I have fun with you, but it’s more like friends.”
He inhales and looks almost relieved. “Yeah, no worries. I felt it too. Or the lack thereof.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. Thanks for coming out with me. I honestly thought you would tell me no.”
“You did? Why?”
“I don’t know. You’re just so pretty and I’m sure you get asked out all the time. I honestly didn’t think I’d be the one you’d say yes to, so thanks for that.”
“Actually, I don’t get asked out a lot. And Denton—how can you say that? You are so good looking. Even Ava talks about how hot she thinks you are.”
He raises his eyebrows.
Oh God. She’s gonna kill me. But serves her right. It was her bright idea I sleep with Dallas, and she was the one giving me the Quasimodo eye when Denton asked me out. It’s not the end of the world to put a little manly heat in her corner every once in a while. If he’s so datable, then she should date him.
“Well, thanks again for everything,” I say. At least I got the first date after the whole Becker thing out of the way.
I don’t count all the stuff that happened with Dallas as “dating,” because we’re not … it’s not … We’re not dating.
“If you really want something, you have to go after it.”
—Dallas Brown
I’M at the shop working on Aphrodite when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I finish my weld and pull off the gloves and helmet to dig out my phone. A text from Nate:
U need 2 call me
Really? What the hell is so goddamn important that he couldn’t just leave me a message or tell me in a text? If he’s wanting to bitch at me about the twenty bucks I owe him for last night’s beer run, I’m kicking his ass. He’ll get his money. Just not right fucking now.
I stuff the phone back in my pocket and replace my gloves. The phone vibrates again. “Shit.” Glove off agian. I should turn the damn thing off, but I don’t want to risk missing a call from Carmyn.
It’s Nate calling me. “What the fuck, man? I’m working.”
“Have you heard about Carmyn and Denton yet?”
Those two names in the same sentence make me ill. I try to keep my cool. At least as long as I
’m on the phone with Nate. “No, what about them? And why is there even a them?”
“Patrick told Howie that Denton asked her out on Friday at the Beta Alpha Psi activity. And they went out last night.” Howie’s a Fiji brother.
“No fucking way.”
“Believe it, man. I just called Landon from Denton’s house, and he said Denton did go on a date last night.” My brothers don’t know the whole story about Denton and me, but they know I fucking hate him. And they know something is different for me with Carmyn. I never talk about girls with the guys, but I sure went on about “Carmyn this” and “Carmyn that” at the Rusty Nail last night. A little too much to drink, but my boys aren’t stupid.
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll be by later.” I disconnect, clean my gear up as swiftly as I can, and jump on my bike.
I’m stunned by how furious I am. I told the little bastard to stay clear of me. And the first thing I start to really want, Denton comes sweeping in like some goddamn knight in shining fucking armor.
By the time I get to Denton’s frat house, I’m fuming. My boots slap against the dirt driveway angrily as I make my way up to the house. I bang on the door and balance from one foot to the other like a man itching for a fight. The poor kid who answers the door looks on me with wide, scared eyes. “I need to talk to Denton. Tell him to get his ass out here right fucking now.”
The guy turns and hustles back inside. I wait. Pace across the wood porch planks in front of the door.
Denton steps out. “Dallas? What are you doing here?”
“What the fuck are you trying to pull?”
He frowns. “What are you talking about?”
I grab him by the back of his neck and walk him down the stairs. We’re going to have an audience, but they don’t need to hear every damn thing we say. “With Carmyn. What shit are you trying to pull with her?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Did you or did you not ask her out? Did she go out with you?” my voice rises at the end.
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