Maybe I’ve had too much wine, but Theo’s—doing something for me tonight. Sexually. I haven’t had sex with someone in a while. Too long, really. I know he’s going through the same thing. I’m guessing we’re both full of repressed urges that are bubbling closer and closer to the surface.
The server returns a few minutes later with more wine. He refills each of our glasses and then takes our orders. Theo asks for pan-seared scallops. I order garlic chicken. The server tries to engage me in light conversation, but I offer up one-word answers until he finally takes the hint and leaves.
“That guy won’t let up,” Theo says, still sounding a little growly. “What a dick.”
“I’m not interested in him,” I tell Theo, reaching across the table to rest my hand over his.
Theo’s gaze lifts, meeting mine, and now he’s the one who’s smoldering. We look into each other’s eyes for a too long to be thinking friendly thoughts moment. “I think I’m drunk,” he finally says, slipping his hand out from beneath mine.
Blame it on the alcohol. That’s a good excuse. Though he’s probably right. I’m just—putting feelings onto Theo that have no business being there.
Right. Of course. That’s it.
As the evening continues, we make a few mistakes.
First, we drink too much.
Second, we laugh. A lot. Plus, a man who makes me laugh? One of my absolute weaknesses.
Third, we don’t eat enough bread. I’ve always heard that bread soaks up alcohol quickly, but Theo is exhibiting excellent control when it comes to food tonight and I’ve been avoiding carbs lately so…
Yeah. Here we are, arguing about leaving a tip for our server. Theo wants to give him five bucks.
“That’s not enough,” I tell him, letting my irritation shine through. “Just because he flirted with me…”
“Fine. I’ll leave him five dollars and you leave him your phone number. That should be more than enough tip for him,” Theo says grimly.
What in the world?
“I’m not giving him my number.” Now I’m kind of pissed. “Why would I do that?”
“He’s totally into you. I’m surprised he’s not sporting a boner every time he gets near our table,” he bites out.
“Please.” I wave a hand. “I’m not interested.”
“You’re extra nice to him,” he throws at me like a jealous boyfriend.
“It’s called being polite, jackass.” I grip the edge of the table, glaring at Theo. “There is a difference, you know. Or are you going to be like all those other guys?”
Well. Those were fighting words I just tossed at him.
“What the hell are you talking about? What other guys?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean,” I say.
I watch as he scratches out a more than generous tip for our server onto the receipt and signs his name with a flourish, dropping the pen onto the table. He grabs his credit card and slips it into his slim black wallet before opening up the jacket he just shrugged back on and tucking the wallet into the pocket within.
“I don’t know what you mean, Kelsey. Spell it out for me,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
Ooh, I’m angry. I don’t even know why. Wait, I know why. I don’t like what he said. What his words implied. “Men I’ve been with in the past always believe I’m flirting with every man I talk to when I’m only being nice. Cordial. It’s annoying. I haven’t once flirted with the server tonight, Theo, but you accused me of doing exactly that. And it’s not fair.”
Grabbing my purse from the ground, I rise to my feet, tossing my napkin onto the table. “Thanks for dinner. I owe you.”
With that, I turn around and exit the restaurant’s patio.
Within seconds I hear Theo call my name. I ignore him, picking up the pace as I head for where I parked my car. It’s completely dark outside, and there aren’t very many streetlights that line the roads, so I’m squinting as I hurriedly walk, hoping that I’m going in the right direction.
Did I mention that I’m still fairly buzzed? And there’s no way I should be driving home. I live too far. In a small, shitty studio apartment in Monterey. I don’t like talking about my place to anyone. Not even my friends. It’s the worst.
More than anything, that awful apartment depresses me.
“Kelsey!”
I turn right onto the next street, knowing without a doubt I’m going in the wrong direction. But I don’t care. Forget the car. My mission is to get away from Theo. Maybe I should call an Uber. I can get home and have someone drive me to pick up my car tomorrow.
Though it might get marked by the meter police. And if it sits long enough, especially on a Saturday, it’ll probably get towed.
Whipping out my phone, I realize that’s a chance I’m willing to take.
I bring up the Uber app when I feel fingers curl around the crook of my elbow, stopping me. I whirl around to find Theo standing close. Too close. He’s breathing hard too, like he’d just been running after me.
“There you are,” he says between heavy breaths.
I try to tug my arm out of his hold but his grip is too tight. “What do you want?”
“Why’d you leave so fast?”
“I’m mad, Theo, okay? Don’t you get it?”
He frowns, his dark eyes full of worry. His hold on me gentles, and oh God, he slowly slides his fingers up my arm, a scattering of goose bumps following in their wake. “I’m sorry. I’m a little drunk. I’m mad too. At that stupid server. And you.”
“Why are you mad at me? I’m here with you tonight,” I remind him.
Theo snorts. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him do that before. “As my friend.”
“What’s wrong with that? That’s what we are, right?”
Right?
The word echoes in my head as we continue staring at each other. My breath start to accelerate too, and it’s amazing, how his hand on my arm somehow steers me closer to him. I don’t know how he did that. I don’t know what’s happening right now either.
He dips his head down.
I tilt my head back.
Our gazes are locked. My breath lodges in my throat when I see how he watches me.
Like he…
Wants me.
Eight
Theo
Yeah, no. Can’t do it. Can’t kiss Kelsey and ruin everything. Our friendship. The easy camaraderie we share.
It was fun tonight, eating dinner with her, drinking and talking and laughing. The stupid server had to keep staring at her for too long and it set me on edge. Worse? I was jealous. Jealous of a guy who doesn’t even know Kelsey, who obviously thought she was sexy as fuck and couldn’t stop looking at her. Can I blame him? No. Was I being ridiculous? Yes. She’s here with me. She came to dinner with me.
And then I had to go and ruin everything.
I let go of her and take a step back, needing the distance. She takes a gulping breath. Exhales with a shudder. My gaze drops to her chest.
Stop it!
I lift my traitorous gaze to hers—her eyes are glazed.
“We’re in bad shape.”
She blinks at me. “What do you mean?”
“You’re drunk.” I point at her. “I’m drunk.” I tap my thumb against my chest. “We can’t drive.”
“This is why God made Uber,” she says with a finality that must sound logical to her, but nope. Not working for me.
“No Uber.” I shake my head. “I can’t leave my car here all night.”
“Pick it up in the morning.” She starts tapping on her phone, and I swipe it right out of her hand. “Hey!”
“Let’s go sober up somewhere.” I glance around, my gaze snagging on intersecting street up ahead. Just around the corner is Sweet Dreams. “We can get coffee.”
“Sweet Dreams is closed.”
“Damn it.”
“Theo, there is nowhere to sober up.” She glances around, her expression brightening when she faces me. As if something sudden
ly hit her. “Wait a minute! I know where we can go. Stella’s apartment.”
“Uh, will Stella be there?”
“No, she lives in her nonna’s house now. No one lives in the apartment above Sweet Dreams, though most of the furniture is still there. I hear her brothers use the apartment sometimes, so it’s pretty much fully stocked.” She makes a gimme motion with her hand. “Hand over the phone so I can text her.”
I reluctantly hand it over. She starts typing, and I watch her, momentarily entranced. Damn it, she’s beautiful. Why didn’t I kiss her again?
“Okay, yes.” She’s nodding and typing at the same time. I can hear the whoosh of a text being sent and received, again and again. “Stella said we can crash out at her apartment.”
“You have a key?”
“She hides one. I know where it’s at. Come on.” Kelsey grabs my hand and we start walking toward the very street I was just staring at.
Within minutes we’re at Sweet Dreams. Stella’s old apartment sits above the bakery/café, and we go around the back of the building, heading up the narrow stairway that leads to the apartment. There’s a tiny black mailbox hanging on the wall beside the door, and Kelsey reaches behind it, withdrawing a key dangling from a little chain.
“Ta da,” she announces, waving the key in front of my face.
“That doesn’t seem very safe,” I say, watching as she sticks the key into the deadbolt and unlocks it. “Leaving the key behind the mailbox.”
“No one has found it so far,” she sing-songs, wagging her butt back and forth as she turns the handle and opens the door. “Come in.”
I follow her into the apartment, blinking against the bright overhead light when she turns it on. The apartment is tiny. Sparsely furnished. There’s a couch, end table and a small coffee table in the living room, along with a flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. Kelsey goes to the lamp sitting on the end table and switches it on.
“Turn off that light.” She points at the fixture on the ceiling and I do as she says, grateful the harsh light is gone. “How about we watch a movie?”
“Or we could go to bed,” I suggest.
Her eyes flare for the briefest moment. Like she believes I’m suggesting we go…have sex. And that she’s…interested.
Say what?
“I didn’t mean, like, go to bed and get naked.” I chuckle nervously, banishing the image of a naked Kelsey from my brain. “I meant, uh, that we should go to sleep. You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. Or isn’t there another bedroom?”
“Theodore.”
I meet her gaze, feeling like an idiot. A feeling I’ve never experienced with Kelsey before. “Yeah?”
“It’s like…nine o’clock on a Friday night. We’re not going to sleep yet.” She plops onto the couch and pats the empty space right next to her. “We’re going to watch a movie.”
Keeping my gaze on her, I shrug out of my suit jacket and drape it over the back of the couch. Loosen my tie, then yank it off. Undo the buttons at my wrists and roll up my sleeves. Kelsey turns on the TV, then proceeds to log into her Netflix account, but I can tell she’s also watching me.
Huh.
“Come on. Help me pick something out.” She sounds impatient and I go to her, settling beside her but not too close.
Close enough to feel her warmth. To smell her perfume. When she turns to look at me, her hair brushes against my arm and I want to groan.
What the hell are we doing? What the hell am I thinking?
“I’m sorry about our argument earlier. And how I stormed off,” she says, her voice small. “I became—irrationally angry.”
“I’m sorry too. I was a jealous asshole,” I say, meaning every word.
She slowly shakes her head. “I don’t know what you have to be jealous about. I wasn’t even paying attention to that guy.”
I refuse to get into it. Is this what it would be like, becoming involved with Kelsey? Would I be jealous of every guy who looked at her with undisguised interest? Would I become a possessive asshole ready to fight every jerk who dared look her way?
Nah. I’m just—wary. On the defensive, thanks to Jessica cheating on me. With my cousin.
I need to stop thinking about her. And Craig. Who cares? I don’t care.
We scroll through the Netflix menu until we finally settle on some new creepy movie with true horror vibes. I hate scary movies, but Kelsey seemed dead set on it, so I don’t argue. Instead, I sprawl my legs wide, throwing my left arm along the back of the couch. If I wanted to, I could reach out and tug on the ends of Kelsey’s hair. Run my fingers through it. See if it’s as silky-soft as it looks…
She’s sitting on the edge of the couch and glances over her shoulder, smiling at me. “Don’t you look comfortable.”
I shrug one shoulder. Trying to act like this is no big deal.
Really? Her nearness is driving me out of my mind. We’ve spent plenty of time together, but always in public. At restaurants. Conferences. Cocktail parties. That sort of thing. We’ve never been at each other’s house. Or rode together in a car. We’ve kept our interactions fairly neutral.
There is nothing neutral about this location. It feels like a hookup pad. There’s a bedroom in this place. Pretty sure there’s maybe two? And yeah, if there are two bedrooms, we could each sleep in our own bed and act like this night is no big deal. Just two friends sleeping off a drunken evening. Get up early and head on to our respective homes and pretend it never happened.
Or we could share a bed, get naked and get down to business.
I’m thinking I prefer option two.
“Want a snack?” Kelsey asks, her sweet voice pulling me from my dirty thoughts.
“A snack?” I’m frowning. “I thought no one lived here.”
“What do you mean?”
“If no one lives here, then there shouldn’t be any food, right?” I send her a pointed look.
“I texted Stella and asked if she left any snacks behind.” Kelsey pauses the movie she literally just started and leaps to her feet, looking very pleased with herself. “She said we have a few options.”
She dashes into the tiny kitchen and I can hear her rummaging around. The tear of a plastic wrapper. A microwave door opening and closing, then the distinct beeping as she hits buttons and the microwave hums to life.
The scent hits me right before it starts to pop.
Popcorn.
“You want a Coke?” she calls.
“Sure.”
She fills a couple of glasses with ice and cracks open two cans of Coke, and I can hear the glugging sound of the soda as she pours them into our cups. Every little sound is heightened in the otherwise quiet of the apartment. I don’t even hear any traffic pass by on the road outside. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world, about to indulge in shitty microwave popcorn and Cokes—I haven’t drunk soda in almost a year, but screw it—watching a scary movie so I can have nightmares later tonight.
It’s worth it, though. To spend the rest of the evening with Kelsey. Snuggled up with her on the couch. Sharing a bowl of popcorn with her.
“You need some help?” I ask as I stand and stretch my arms above my head, a little groan leaving me when I feel the ache and strain in my muscles. I’m tired. It was a busy week. I always look forward to the weekend, yet I find myself still working. For once, maybe I should ignore my laptop and my inbox and just—relax.
“Please,” she says when I’m already in the kitchen. “Grab the drinks. I’ll get the popcorn.”
We return to the couch, the drinks on the narrow coffee table in front of us. Kelsey settles even closer beside me, the bowl full of popcorn resting in her lap. I reach for a handful at the same time she does, our fingers sliding against each other in the warm popcorn, and everything in my body goes on high alert.
Who knew popcorn could be considered erotic?
Yeah. I’m drunker than I thought.
“Sorry.” She removes her hand from the popcorn and grabs the
remote, pressing play on the movie. “I can’t believe we’re hungry after eating all that food at dinner.”
“Popcorn is my favorite,” I admit, grabbing a handful and shoving it in my mouth.
“It’s mine too!” She turns to look at me with wide eyes. “I love it. Kettle corn is my utter weakness.”
“Yeah. Same. I live for that shit they make fresh at festivals.”
“Right? It’s hot and sugary, yet salty too?” A low murmur of approval escapes her. “Delicious.”
My mouth is dry from that sexy noise she just made, and I cough, nearly choking on the popcorn I’m still eating. “So.” Cough cough. “Delicious.”
Again, I’m an idiot. What is this woman doing to me? Why am I suddenly having these feelings?
There’s nothing sudden about these feelings, jackass. You’ve just been suppressing them. You’ve been attracted to Kelsey for a while. For months. You have a favorite porn star who looks like her, for God’s sake. Face your fucking feelings for once and tell her.
Nope. Can’t do that.
We watch the movie in silence, the only sound munching popcorn or one of us sipping our Cokes. I’m trying to concentrate on the storyline, but I can’t. Kelsey is too damn distracting. The way her brows lower when a scene from the movie becomes tense, her full lips pursed. The little squeal she makes when a knife arcs through the air, landing right in a gasping woman’s chest.
I cover my eyes a little too late when that happens. Scary movies freak me out. When I was ten, a friend of mine invited me over to spend the night. He was a horror movie lover. He learned to appreciate them thanks to his parents, who also had a strange fascination with them. We all settled in to watch a movie called The Fog.
That shit scarred me for life. Vengeful sea ghosts out to right the wrongs brought against them one hundred years later by slaughtering as many people as possible during the course of one night? No thanks. Ten-year-old me was freaking the hell out.
Wedding Date (Dating Series Book 6) Page 6
