The Right Guy

by Kate O'Keeffe

  And when he kissed me on the dance floor at that club? Well, it was all right, I guess.

  Maybe less than all right? You got me; not at all.

  Let’s see, how can I put this? Kissing Rob is a little . . . underwhelming. Sorry, but it’s true. In fact, it might even be a little worse than underwhelming. If I was forced at gunpoint to describe what it felt like, I would probably have to say it was a little like kissing an oyster. Not that I’ve ever kissed an oyster, of course. Because, gross. But if I had, I bet it’d be just like kissing Rob: wet, slimy, not in the least bit sexy. Altogether a bit ick.

  But still, here I am, sitting with the guy in a totally romantic spot, wishing I were safely tucked up in my bed, alone, sound asleep.

  I drain my water glass, and Rob takes it from me, placing it on the table in front of us. He runs a finger down my bare arm. “How about we take this to my room?”

  Is it just me or is that line cornier than an extra-large tub of popcorn?

  I look at him and blink, trying to see only one of him. I squint. Yes, that works.

  There’s no denying he’s good looking. He’s not wearing the orange shirt tonight, but that doesn’t matter. We locked eyes when he was wearing it last night, and that’s what counts, according to the prediction. And I’ve learned that his eyes are green, so really, he ought to be “the one.”

  Only, I don’t have “the feeling.” You know the one: the butterflies whenever you think of him, the way one smile can turn your legs to jelly, the way he’s stuck there, in your head all the freaking time?

  Yup, I’m sorry to report that when it comes to “the feeling,” Rob is a big, fat zero.

  “Thank you so much for the invitation, but I don’t think so.”

  He places a couple of fingers under my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes. “Taylor, babe. Don’t you feel it like I do? You and me, we are meant to be.”

  I press my lips together to try to stop my laughter from erupting. I fail spectacularly, my body racked with peals of laughter. “Did you try to make that cheesy line rhyme?”

  He doesn’t share my amusement. In fact, I think I detect an expression of annoyance on his face. “If you want it to rhyme, then yeah. Whatever you want, babe.” He shoots me a meaningful look. “Whatever you want.”

  Really Kosmic Kandi? This guy?

  Certain he’s persuaded me with his not-so-subtle promise of “whatever I want,” he stands up, his hand outstretched. I take it—more because I know I’m not exactly steady on my feet right now than as assent to his offer—and we walk out of the bar together.

  “Your room is on the third floor, right?” he asks.

  “It is.”

  “How about I walk you there?”

  “Sure.”

  We reach the elevator, he presses the “up” button, and we wait. He takes my hand in his, and I look over at him. Despite everything inside of me screaming he’s not the one, I’m trying my best to get on board with the idea of him. Rob is cute. He’s handsome and put together, and he clearly works out. Like, a lot. He’s been telling me. I never knew how important it was to build my core strength up before I turn thirty. Thanks to Rob and his detailed explanation, I now do.

  That’s got to be a good thing, right?

  The elevator pings, and the doors slide open.

  We step inside, and as the doors slide closed, he pulls me into him and kisses me once more. I concentrate on the psychic’s prediction—and do my best not to think about mollusks.

  I know I should be enjoying this, I know I thought I wanted this. But I don’t. I so don’t. Despite all the tequila, all the flirting, Kosmic Kandi and her prediction, I don’t want this.

  I don’t want him.

  “Rob,” I say, my voice muffled by his thick oyster tongue in my mouth. Which, believe me, is just as awful as it sounds.

  “What is it, babe?”

  The elevator comes to a halt, the doors sliding open with a ping.

  My jaw drops open when I see who’s standing right in front of us, the look of thunder I saw at the restaurant still on his face.

  Jake.

  CHAPTER 13

  Jake

  I take one look at Taylor and know she’s totally tanked. She’s swaying a little, the straps of her top have fallen off her shoulders, and her lipstick is smudged. I don’t want to think how that happened, but by the state of her, I could take a pretty good stab at a guess.

  And she’s with Rob. He’s got his arm around her waist, a smug look on his pretty-boy face. It makes my blood boil.

  I shoot him a look intended to wither. “Let go of her.”

  “Piss off,” he replies.

  So not the answer I’m looking for right now.

  “Come on, babe. Let’s go,” he says to Taylor. He takes her by the hand and tries to push past me.

  I block his path, placing my foot next to the door to keep it open. “I said, let go of her.”

  “Look, man, this has got nothing to do with you.”

  “You see, man, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  We glare at one another.

  My jaw locks.

  I feel a hand on my arm. “Jake. It’s okay.”

  I glance at Taylor, and my face softens. Despite looking like she’s just walked through a hurricane, she’s more achingly beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. My heart contracts.

  “Do you know what this guy’s like? Do you know I saw him flirting with other women at the bar last night?”

  She blinks at me, swaying some more. I reach a hand out to steady her.

  “It doesn’t matter. He was just walking me to my room.”

  Her words come out a little slurred, but they’re clear enough for me to shoot a victorious look at Rob.

  “Babe,” he implores, his hand slipping around her waist once more. “We were going to discuss it, remember?”

  Taylor waggles her finger in the air like she’s scolding him. It’s cute. I almost smile. “Not happening.” She shakes her head.

  I step aside for him to leave. Which he does, his tail between his legs, pausing to tell me what a jerk I am.

  Yeah, I can live with that. Asshole.

  With Rob stomping off down the hallway, his plans for the evening suddenly changed, I turn back to Taylor. She’s returning her straps to their rightful place and pushing her hair behind her ears. She steps out of the elevator and scowls at me. Yeah, that’s right. The woman I’ve just saved from making a huge mistake with a guy not worth the dirt on her shoes is scowling at me.

  “I could have taken care of myself, you know,” she says.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She glares at me. “Whatever.” She walks away, veering too close to the wall. She wobbles on her heels and rights herself.

  I know one thing for sure, I’m not leaving her alone in this state.

  In a few short strides, I catch up with her. “Where’s your room?”

  She needs to get to bed, sleep this off.

  She stops and looks at me. She bites her lip. “I can’t remember. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  I don’t know whether it’s because she’s such an indignant drunk or the relief she’s not going back to that guy’s room, but I laugh. After a moment’s hesitation, Taylor laughs, too. At first, it’s obvious she doesn’t want to, and then she gives into it, resting her hand against the wall for support.

  “Three forty-three,” she says as she wipes her eyes.

  “Your room number?”

  “I’m sure of it. Or, at least, I think I am.”

  I glance at the nearest door. Three thirty-nine. “Come this way.”

  We walk—well, I walk, Taylor kind of totters—down the hall until we find room three forty-three. I wait as Taylor fumbles around in her purse, searching for her key. The look of concentration on her face is enough to melt me.

  “Aha!” She pulls a card out of her purse, examining it. “No, that’s my credit card.” She slips the card back into her purs
e and fumbles around some more.

  “Want some help?”

  I’m kinda expecting another one of those tanked, defiant looks from her again. She surprises me by saying yes. After a second, I find the keycard, slot it into the reader, and the little light turns green.

  “Yay!” Taylor exclaims like a little kid and falls against me.

  I grab her around her waist and help her into the room. It’s dark when we enter, and there’s no sign of Lacey, her weekend roommate.

  I know what you’re thinking right about now. Knowing how I feel about her, what she means to me, Taylor and I alone in her room can lead to some pretty interesting possibilities. Possibilities I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

  Not gonna happen. This woman is totally smashed.

  I’m not that guy.

  “Where’s Lacey?” she says, dropping her purse on the closest bed.

  “She’s probably still at the club with the others. Once I’d noticed you’d gone, I left soon after.”

  Here eyebrows ping up to meet her hairline. “You did? Why?”

  “To make sure you were okay.”

  “But, but you said you weren’t going to rescue me.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess I messed up then.”

  She plunks herself down on the bed and slips off her shoes. I watch as she closes her eyes and smooths her face with her hands. She pushes her hair behind her shoulders and leans back against the bed, letting out a soft sigh.

  They are such intimate gestures, done without an intended audience, I’m sucker punched by the way she moves. I have to fight the suddenly overwhelming desire to lay down next to her.

  Yup, it’s time to leave. Now.

  “I’ll, ah, I’ll get going,” I say, backing away from her. “You going to be okay?”

  She pushes herself up on her elbows to look at me. I try not to notice the soft expanse of skin across her shoulders, the way the silky material of her top falls against the soft roundness of her breasts.

  I briefly allow my eyes to skim over her body. From her long, slim legs to her luscious curves, everything about her is freaking perfect.

  Yeah, I’m not exactly doing a great job of leaving right now.

  She pushes herself up off the bed and walks toward me until she’s at my side. Without her high-heeled sandals, she only comes up to my shoulders. With this proximity to her, I shift, uncomfortable. Why does she have to stand so close? Doesn’t she know it does things to me? Things I don’t want to think about while she’s in this state?

  I clear my throat and try to think of something—anything—other than the fact Taylor and I are alone together, in her hotel room, and she’s standing so damn close to me I could touch her.

  “Jake, I—” She breaks off and bites her lip. The look on her face tells me she’s struggling with something—and I hope like hell it’s nothing to do with Rob.

  My heart hammering, I breathe, “What is it?”

  “I wasn’t bringing him back to my room.”

  “Kinda looked like it to me.”

  She shakes her head. “I thought he was something I wanted, but I was wrong.” As she gazes up at me, something in her expression tells me she’s telling the truth.

  “He’s not good enough for you.”

  She places her hand on my chest, and I jump, an electric shock coursing through me. “If Rob’s not, then who is good enough for me, Jake? You?” She slips her hands up around my neck and tilts her face up. Her eyes are hooded, and I’m powerless to stop myself from pulling her into me and crushing my lips against hers. It’s just like it was on those church steps this afternoon, her scent, her taste, the feel of her is everything I imagined, everything I’ve wanted for so long.

  “Taylor.” My voice comes out like a low growl.

  Things have begun to stand to attention, as it were, and it’s all I can do to stop myself tearing her clothes off and taking her on the floor. And my God, do I want her. But not like this. Not with a woman who’s downed enough tequila to fell a small elephant, a woman who probably even only half knows what she’s doing.

  No way.

  When it happens, she’s going to know it. Really know it. And it will be totally spectacular.

  With a level of control I didn’t think I was capable of with this woman, I pull away from her. “No, Taylor.” My voice is deep, hoarse.

  The look on her face changes in an instant. “But, I thought—?” she whispers, her brow furrowed. “Why?” The confusion in her voice gets me, right in the chest.

  I lower my eyes from hers. I can’t watch what my rejection is doing to her. “Just no, okay?” I regret the harshness in my voice the second the words shoot from my mouth. But I need to be firm, I need to make this stop—no matter how hard this is for me to do.

  I clench my eyes shut, balling my hands at my sides. I wish I could tell her how much she means to me, how I’ve longed to be with her since that one incredible kiss on the swing all those years ago. How hard it’s been to stay away.

  How no other woman could ever compare to her.

  I know I can’t.

  Even though it’s taken all my strength to turn her down. I know it could wreck everything, everything we have together.

  And that’s the last thing I want to do.

  CHAPTER 14

  Taylor

  I turn away from Jake, hoping he doesn’t see the hurt in my eyes, knowing he can’t miss it. On unsteady feet, I walk away from him and into the bathroom. Without another word, I flick on the light and close the door, leaning up against the fluffy hotel robe hanging on a hook. I let out a shaky breath, humiliated.

  Jake rejected me. Jake. After that mind-blowing kiss on the church steps this afternoon, he’s turned me down. My mortification bites, twisting my belly into a reef knot. Did I misread him? Did I get this whole thing wrong?

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’ll be honest, what I see staring back at me ain’t pretty. My hair’s a mess, makeup’s smudged beneath my eyes, and lipstick’s smeared around my mouth. I’m a total mess. Probably not even a hot mess. Just a straight up, old-fashioned one.

  No wonder.

  And I know I don’t look like the type of woman he goes for. The blonde, totally put together, skinny type. #Californiababe. I’ve good boobs and a butt, with curves where God intended. Why would he be interested in someone like me?

  If only I hadn’t drunk all that tequila, my feelings for Jake could have remained locked tightly away in their little box. Just the way it should be.

  I hear the click of the bedroom door and snap my head in its direction. My humiliation is now complete. Jake has rejected me and left the building.

  Super.

  I pull out a tissue and wipe what’s left of my lipstick from my mouth. I wish I could wipe this whole disaster of a night out. Start again. Not drink those shots. Not get tangled up in something I didn’t want with Rob. Not expose my feelings to Jake.

  I pull my top over my head, unhook my strapless bra, and slip my clothes off. I step into the shower and close the glass door. Switching it on, I allow the water to run over my face, draining down me.

  Eventually, after scrubbing myself clean and drying off, I comb out my long, wet hair and wrap myself up in one of the hotel’s robes. I take a breath, my hand on the doorknob. Before I chicken out, I swing it open and look around.

  The room is empty, just as I thought.

  My heart sinks. I don’t even really know what I’d hoped for, but somehow a room without Jake in it isn’t it. Even if he’s made it clear he’s not interested in me, that the kiss we shared this afternoon was just him messing around, playing the part for that couple.

  God, I’m such a fool. A fool with dangerous, inappropriate feelings for my best friend’s brother.

  I pad across to my bed and sit down heavily on it, looking out at the lights of the resort and further out to sea. There’s a quiet knock at the door. Lacey must have forgotten her key. I hop off the bed and open it. My heart leaps into
my mouth when I see who it is, a tentative smile on his handsome face.

  “Jake. Wh-what are you doing here?” I stutter, wondering if I’m having some sort of tequila-induced hallucination. I mean, didn’t he just leave here in disgust?

  He holds up a paper bag. “Thought you could do with these.” I take the bag and peer inside. “Alka-Seltzer, Advil, and a can of spiced tomato juice for your hangover. Sounds terrible, but that combination has totally worked for me.”

  I smile, looking up at him through watery eyes. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about ‘thanks?’” He shoots me a cheeky grin, the kind I’ve known since I was a kid.

  I blink my tears away. “Sure. Thanks.”

  We stand in the doorway in silence for a moment. The room is no longer spinning, although I have a distinct sense I’m not quite centered back in my body fully yet. “Did you want to come in?” I ask when he doesn’t walk away. “Don’t worry, I won’t you know again.”

  His expression changes to something I can’t quite read, replaced by a fresh smile a moment later. “Sure. Just for a bit. You need to sleep this off.”

  I stand back, pressing myself up against the door. He steps inside, his bulk filling the room, rendering it smaller than it was a moment ago. He plunks himself down on my bed in that habitual, easy going, “we’ve been friends forever” kind of way. It’s familiar, and I feel myself relax a notch. That is until the memory of him pushing me away has me tightening back up, my belly twisting.

  There’s nothing quite like toe-curling humiliation to make a girl sober up, and fast.

  “Take the Alka-Seltzer and Advil now, ’kay?”

  “Okay.” I go to the bathroom to do as instructed, holding my nose as I down the fizzy concoction. I swallow a couple of Advil, but there’s no way I’m braving that spiced tomato juice.

  “Better?” he asks when I return to the room.

  “Too early to tell.” I sit down on the other bed, my body tense. Silence falls once more. It’s anything but comfortable. “Jake—” I begin.