Living with Her One-Night Stand (The Loft, #1)

by Noelle Adams

  “Yeah. I figured. No problem on my part.”

  She let out a sigh. “I don’t think we should do this too often.”

  His body tightened again, just slightly. “Why not?”

  “Because… because we haven’t really gotten past where we were at the beginning. We want different things. And sex with you is… is really fun. But if we do it too often, I’m not going to be able to keep it casual.”

  It was kind of embarrassing to admit that, but she lived with Lucas, and honesty was the only way she knew how to deal with relationships.

  His lips parted just slightly. “Ah.”

  “Yes. Having sex with a guy all the time is going to make me think relationship. And I know you don’t want that.”

  So the truth she discovered was that she was still a little silly. She realized it then. Because part of her was holding its breath, waiting to hear his response. Hoping just a tiny bit for a denial, for him to change his mind.

  For him to tell her that he might want more than sex from her.

  There was a pause that fed her hopes, but then he said, “Yeah. That makes sense. No sense in confusing matters.”

  So there it was.

  Just sex.

  No relationship.

  He didn’t want commitments.

  He didn’t want normal life responsibilities.

  He didn’t want obligations that would make him do something—anything—he didn’t want to do.

  He wanted to ride the tide. He wanted to only go where it took him.

  He wasn’t ever going to work to get somewhere else.

  “I do like the idea of occasionally having fun with you like this,” she said, pleased her voice was controlled, natural. “But I think we better not make it too often.”

  “So… how often?” He slanted her a questioning look. If she didn’t know better, she would have said it was urgent, as if her answer really mattered to him.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ll have to kind of… feel it out. Maybe we should just say we can have sex if it feels right and we both want to and neither of us has anyone… anyone else.”

  “I’m not going to have anyone else,” he said softly. “And I’m always going to want to have sex with you. No matter what. So just let me know if it feels right to you. Any time.”

  She swallowed hard. He was leaving it all to her. Which made sense. He could do sex casually. She couldn’t. Not much anyway. And not for long.

  “Okay,” she said with a smile that didn’t waver. “Sounds like a plan.”

  She wondered how long it would be before she felt like having sex with Lucas again would be safe.

  He’d told her they could have sex any time she wanted.

  At the moment, she really had no idea how long she would last.

  TWO MONTHS LATER, LUCAS was wondering when Jill would ask him to have sex again.

  Since their weekend at the wedding, they’d only had sex once—four and a half weeks ago. He still didn’t know what had prompted it, but she’d knocked on his door at about two o’clock in the morning one night and had gotten half a stilted question out before he’d dragged her into his room, into his bed.

  They’d had sex over and over again that night. He’d known she was likely to withdraw when the sun came up, so he’d made it last as long as his body could handle.

  The memory of that night—of all three nights he’d spent in bed with Jill—still came to him far too often, making him sweat, making him pant, making him hard.

  He understood why she was being careful, but she wasn’t dating anyone else. She didn’t really seem to be trying to find a relationship as far as he could tell since she hadn’t had a date in the past two months. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t keep having sex.

  It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she treated him like a boyfriend. He liked hanging out with her. He liked talking to her. He liked doing things with her. He liked having sex with her.

  They were two reasonable adults, and they could handle any awkward consequences that might come up.

  He didn’t like the distance he could feel between him and her.

  And his body really didn’t like being deprived this way, especially when it saw Jill every single day, little and clever and gorgeous and soft and absolutely irresistible.

  Occasionally he even thought about moving out of the apartment even though he had more than two months left in his lease. It would be easier if he didn’t see Jill at all. Maybe then he could finally get her out of his mind, out of his life.

  But he never did.

  He really liked it in Blacksburg, in this apartment, with Jill.

  He didn’t want to move yet.

  He just wanted to have sex with her again.

  He wanted to have sex. Full stop. And he hadn’t. At all. Not with anyone other than Jill.

  Not since his first time with her.

  He had no idea why.

  It was annoying.

  Sex just wasn’t serious to him, and since he never made any promises to women, he was never in the position to take advantage of them or betray their trust. He could have sex with anyone he wanted.

  But he couldn’t.

  At least he hadn’t.

  Not in ages.

  More than once, he’d gone out in the evenings, determined to find a woman to sleep with. His body needed the release, and he was hoping being with someone different would finally break these strange invisible bonds Jill had tied him up with.

  He’d gone to a bar. He’d chatted up more than one woman.

  And nothing.

  He hadn’t left with any of them. He hadn’t been able to rouse even the slightest bit of interest for them. He probably could have forced himself to go through with it anyway. He assumed (hoped, prayed) he still would have been able to get it up. But he couldn’t bring himself to use another human being that way—as a body, an object to be utilized in an attempt to work out his own issues.

  He’d never had sex when both he and the women hadn’t been equally into it, and he wasn’t going to start now, just because he was in this weird emotional prison shaped and controlled by Jill.

  Soon she would want to have sex with him again.

  Surely she would.

  Please God, he hoped she would.

  No amount of jerking off in the shower could take care of the degree of lust for her he was suffering on a daily basis.

  It was a Saturday evening, and he should probably have gone out to try to distract himself. But Steve had come home with some new party game that used video elements and cards, and he bullied everyone into playing it with him. Jill’s friend Chloe had come over too—she was loud, dramatic, and always made everyone laugh—so there were five of them playing the game, drinking beer and eating snacks, and Lucas had a ridiculously good time.

  He’d never thought he was a game player, but maybe he was.

  They stayed hanging out until late, and Michelle and Jill walked Chloe out to her car after midnight, when she was finally ready to go home.

  Lucas was on one of the couches, leaning back with a beer in his hand.

  Steve was sitting beside him, and he was grinning as he said, “Admit it, man. You’re gonna miss us when you leave.”

  He’d been having a good night, but for some reason the casual words hit him hard. Lucas felt a kick of pain in his chest.

  When he didn’t answer, Steve frowned. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing,” Lucas said quickly. “Just drank too much.” He’d had three beers, but that wasn’t anywhere near enough to affect his ability to think or function.

  It was something else that had hit him.

  Something emotional.

  He was going to miss them. Not just Jill—all of them.

  He didn’t want to leave when his six months were up.

  He didn’t want to leave at all.

  He was on the verge of settling here, and he knew what would happen when he did that.

  H
e would be invested.

  He would be vulnerable.

  He would get hurt.

  “You must be getting old if a few beers put you in this kind of stupor.”

  Lucas didn’t respond to that. He didn’t know what to say.

  Steve must have been thinking about their conversation because after a minute of silence he said slowly, “Why don’t you stay?”

  “What?”

  “Why don’t you stay? After your six months are up, I mean. I don’t think Chloe is going to be able to move back in yet, so we’ll have that empty room. Why don’t you stay?”

  “Eh.”

  “What does that mean? You like it here, don’t you?”

  “Sure.”

  “You’ve been having a good time with us. Don’t try to convince me you’re not.”

  “I am. I like you all.”

  “And you’re into Jill, aren’t you?”

  Lucas straightened up with a jerk. “What?”

  Steve gave him a little smirk. “You heard me. I’m not totally clueless, you know. You’re into Jill. It’s pretty obvious. I think she might have a thing for you too, so why don’t you do something about it?”

  Lucas had genuinely no idea that anyone other than Jill knew anything about what was going on between them. He’d never been obvious with his feelings—even before when he’d thought of himself as wanting what everyone else wanted—so he wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that Steve had picked them up so easily.

  “I don’t do relationships,” he said at last, when it was clear Steve was waiting for a response.

  “I know that’s what you’ve been saying, but I don’t get why you have to stick with it. If you’re into her, what’s the harm in changing your mind?”

  “Are you really going to give me advice about relationships, when you spend half your time fighting with your own girlfriend?” Lucas’s voice was light, not bitter, but he used the words intentionally to redirect the focus of the conversation. Away from him.

  Away from answers he didn’t have, couldn’t say.

  “Stop changing the subject,” Steve said, not taking offense the way he could have. “What’s your problem with relationships? You’ve always been a decent guy and not some sort of player or user. Weren’t you engaged for a while?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did she burn you real bad?”

  “No.”

  Carly hadn’t burned him at all. Their breakup had been mutual.

  And a relief.

  “Then what’s your deal?”

  Lucas let out a long breath, wishing he was capable of explaining in a way that other people could understand.

  “Relationships make things serious,” he said at last.

  Steve frowned. “Yeah? So what?”

  Lucas didn’t answer.

  “Relationships make what serious?” Steve asked after a minute.

  Lucas tightened his lips. “Life.”

  The word lingered in the air for a long time. Lucas was uncomfortable, exposed in a strange way.

  Finally Steve leaned forward, starting to get up. “Shit, man, I don’t know. I guess I don’t know anything about it. But that doesn’t sound right. That doesn’t sound right to me at all.”

  He stood up, clapped Lucas on the shoulder, and then started collecting the bottles of beer scattered around the room.

  Lucas just sat there for a long time, nursing his last swallow of beer.

  LATER, LUCAS CAME OUT of his room in his underwear, after having taken a shower before bed. Michelle and Steve’s door was closed, so they’d obviously gone to bed already.

  But Jill was still up, sweeping the floor in the living room where they’d gotten crumbs from their snacks.

  He stood and watched her for a moment, the way she worked so busily, straightening cushions, making the room look neat and comfortable and inviting again.

  Turning a shared apartment into a home.

  She was wearing a pair of leggings and a long sweater, and she looked tiny, curvy, like Jill.

  When she became aware of his presence, her eyes widened. “Hey. I didn’t hear you come out.”

  “I was just getting some water. You don’t have to do all that yourself, you know.” He gestured toward the broom she still held.

  “I know. I don’t mind. I like for things to be nice when I wake up in the morning. I hate mess waiting for me when I get up.”

  “You want me to help?”

  “Nah.” She smiled at him, relaxed and friendly and like he was nothing in the world to her but her roommate. “There’s nothing else to do.”

  “Okay.”

  She seemed to notice that he was just standing there because she came closer, pausing about a foot away from him. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Her brows lowered. She was looking at him the way Steve had earlier. “Are you sure? You look…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Like something has gotten under your skin.”

  She’d gotten under his skin, and he couldn’t get her out.

  But it was even more than that.

  He couldn’t fully process it himself, much less put it into words.

  “You had a good time tonight, didn’t you?” she asked after a minute. Her eyes were almost gentle.

  “Yeah. I did.”

  “Me too.” She paused for a beat, dropping her eyes and then raising them again. “I’m glad you moved in with us.”

  His heart made a crazy leap. It wasn’t his body. It was his heart. “Thanks,” he mumbled gruffly.

  She moved even closer and reached her hand out toward him. For a moment he thought she was making a move, that he might get to take her to bed tonight. Again. At last.

  But she reached around his side to that stupid scar on his back and traced the line of it with her fingertips.

  The light touch triggered so many sensations in his body, so many emotions in his soul. He shuddered with it, wondering how he was even capable of feeling so much, so deeply.

  This felt serious.

  He was vulnerable. So incredibly vulnerable right now.

  He wanted this moment to last.

  “Lucas,” she breathed, her fingers still caressing his scar. She couldn’t see it since it was on his back, but she seemed to know exactly where it was.

  “Yes,” he managed to say in a rasp.

  Her eyes were huge and deep and so tender. “Can you tell me what your bam was?”

  His mouth opened. The words were in his throat. Everything in him wanted to tell her, wanted to share it, wanted her to carry some of what always weighed him down.

  Wanted to explain why he’d put his life on hold two years ago and was afraid to start it up again.

  But the words didn’t come out.

  Nothing came out but a strange choked sound.

  She waited. A full minute she waited.

  Then she dropped her hand. Dropped her eyes. “Okay,” she murmured. “Good night, Lucas.”

  She was disappointed. He knew she was.

  And he hated that fact.

  But he hated the idea of telling her even more.

  THE NEXT DAY, LUCAS was looking at his email. For the first time in a long time, there was work involved in doing so.

  He presently had five emails in his inbox from people wanting him to help them with their money.

  Michelle and Steve had evidently told everyone they knew how much he’d helped them with their budgets. Now other people were wanting him to help them too.

  Three of them were fairly simple, involving people with limited income and nothing complicated in terms of taxes. Like Michelle and Steve, it would be just a couple of hours of work. Lucas would have helped them simply as favors to his friends, but everyone had offered to pay him.

  The other two had small businesses, so the work involved would be more involved.

  And Lucas was actually considering agreeing.

  For the first time in ages, the i
dea of working didn’t feel like a tedious nightmare to him. He’d enjoyed helping Steve and Michelle. And these projects didn’t sound painful. He could just go over to their places, sit at a table, and talk them through everything.

  He was still doing fine with his savings. He could live for more than two years on what he had left. But he liked the idea of having something else to think about. He liked the idea of doing something productive.

  It was a new thought. A strange thought.

  But maybe it was a good thing.

  Making up his mind, he answered all five emails, telling them he’d be happy to help them and saying he’d give them a discount on his rate since they were friends of Steve and Michelle.

  He was just finishing the final email when Steve and Michelle came out of their bedroom and into the living room.

  Michelle went to pick up her purse, and Steve said, “Hey, we’re going out to get something to eat. You want to come too?”

  Lucas hadn’t thought about dinner yet, but he liked the idea of going out. So he said, “Yeah, sure. That would be great. Should we call Jill and tell her?” It was after five, so Jill should be on her way home from work soon.

  “I already texted her,” Michelle said. “She’s walking back from work now and is going to meet us outside.”

  Pleased with this news, Lucas closed his laptop and found his shoes. He left the apartment and walked downstairs with Michelle and Steve. When they got outside, he saw Jill down the block.

  She wore a skirt and a sweater vest with a white shirt beneath it. She was carrying the big leather bag she always took to work. She waved when she saw them, and Lucas’s heart did a ridiculous little leap.

  Damn.

  Damn.

  He was so excited to see her.

  There was a lot of traffic in downtown Blacksburg at this time of day, and there was a steady stream of cars passing by him. Because he’d been distracted by Jill, he hadn’t realized that he was standing on the edge of the sidewalk, not far from the curb.

  He got a glimpse of a large SUV passing by him just then, and he flinched and turned to look at the quickly approaching vehicle.

  His heart dropped immediately, and the blood drained from his face in a cold chill of terror he simply couldn’t control. He took several steps away from the curb and forced himself to focus on Jill, who had almost reached them.