I really want to know. I want to hear his answer almost as much as I want to kiss him.
“My father stepped back from the business after my mother died. He likes to check in now and then to make sure I’m not running it into the ground, but he’s enjoying retirement. After she died, he could never recover the passion to go back full time.”
Why did I have to ask? I’m an idiot.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“We agreed to answer questions, Mandy,” he reminds me, comforting me with a simple smile.
I’m okay again.
“Quickfire round.” He stands up straight, winking at me, and rubbing his palms together like he’s about to win a jackpot.
He’s completely oblivious to what that wink did to my balance and my head coats in a fog.
Jesus Christ, Alex. What are you made of?
“Favourite colour?” he starts.
“Purple.”
“Mine’s navy.”
“That’s boring.” I scrunch my nose.
“Don’t judge. What age were you when you had your first kiss?”
I ignore the lump in my throat and answer despite it. “Fourteen. You?”
“Twelve. Again, don’t judge. Hormones hit me early.”
I don’t judge. I imagine he’s always been devilishly handsome.
“A time of year you hate the most. Christmas? Halloween?”
I want to say the day I gave everything away, but I don’t.
“My birthday. I hate my birthday. Too much fuss over another ordinary day.”
“Do you have an issue with getting older? Are you secretly an old woman in a really hot body?”
I blush again.
Damn you, Alex.
“No.” I nudge him playfully. “I turn twenty-six on May fourth.”
Without even hesitating he says, “May the fourth be with you.”
“And also with you,” I answer just as fast.
We both break into a laugh, snapping the tension I felt about where these questions could go.
“You’re beautiful, Mandy.” He has stopped laughing and is staring at me. His eyes are serious, and nothing about what he said is a cheesy chat-up line.
In my best effort to break his gaze and to take back the breath he has stolen from me, I avert my eyes.
“When’s your birthday?”
He hesitates, looking at his feet briefly.
“Thirty years old on April twelfth.”
I smile, but then something gnaws at me.
Today is April twelfth.
“Alex,” I gasp. “Why didn’t you say something? Happy Birthday.”
“Because I hate birthdays too. But thank you because I’m liking this one more than most.”
I hope it’s because he’s with me. I hope I’m making this birthday a better one for him.
I tilt my head in the door’s direction. “Come on. Let me buy you a drink for your birthday.”
I circle to walk back inside, but warm fingers wrap gently around my wrist.
When I turn back, he is no longer leaning against the balcony railing. He’s so close I can feel his breath sweep across my face.
“It’s not a drink I want.”
My neck is craning up to look at him, my throat exposed, and I’m sure he can see me swallowing back my nerves.
“Mandy, will you come with me?”
My face falls, my eyes narrowing, and all hopes drop to the pit of my stomach. If he thinks he came here tonight to get birthday bumps, then he chose the wrong woman. Maybe the silk robe gave him the wrong impression after all.
He shakes his head, his shoulders collapsing with a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It came out wrong. Can I show you something? It’s in this building.”
My hopes rise back up to my chest from my stomach.
“It doesn’t involve a no-pants-dance, does it?”
“A no-pants-dance? You’re weird.” But he laughs, still shaking his head.
“Thank you. I think it’s my favourite quality about myself.”
“I think it’s becoming my favourite too.” He laces his fingers with mine, tugging me along behind him.
When we step back inside, I wonder how long we’ve been out on the balcony because the entire room has transformed. The tables are in the same position, but the lights are dim, and coloured spotlights move and shine down on what is now a dance floor. The band no longer plays easy listening music but party hits. The space is now a club, and it’s like all the sweaty nightclubs I remember, but the people are better dressed and their sweat smells like Chanel and Armani.
I don’t see Garry or Claire as Alex guides me through the crowd, his hand on the small of my back, and the spot burns like his hand is going to melt through it. He keeps it there until we pass through the swinging double doors into a busy, hot kitchen.
“Good evening everyone. Never mind us,” Alex says, intertwining his fingers with mine.
“Good evening, Mr. Hale.” Someone chirps from across a counter, but I can’t see their face behind a pot of steam.
How the hell do they know who he is?
“This way.” He pulls me closer, rounding out into a corridor.
We stop at the end, and he presses the button for the elevator.
“Where are we going?” I question, genuinely curious.
“You’ll see.” He smiles at me, his thumb rubbing along the flesh of my palm.
When the elevator doors open, we step inside, and the space seems large.
Until it doesn’t anymore.
The doors shut, and the space rapidly gets so much smaller. It’s too small for the bubbling of feelings pounding inside my chest.
I don’t dare look at him. He’ll see it. He’ll see my want for him. He’ll see how much I’m aching for him to touch more than my hand. I can tell he is staring at me, but I don’t move, and I thank the gods I inherited my stubbornness from my mother.
“You ready?” He asks as the doors open again.
I think my heart has stopped. I simply nod because if I speak, I fear I will say something stupid.
We walk to the end of another corridor, and he pushes down on the handle to open the emergency exit. Immediately, a soft breeze creeps across my skin, causing goosebumps to play along my arms. When my eyes adjust, I can’t help the sharp intake of breath, and something resembling a shriek.
“Alex.” His name comes out in a loud whisper.
I’m walking into the most enchanted garden. Flowers adorn every hard surface. It makes the grey concrete of the rooftop appear soft and magical. Flowers are everywhere I turn, and I spin around slowly to appreciate it. They hang down over the walls, overflowing in baskets, and some grow so much they spill up into the night sky, obscuring the lights of the town. The whole top floor is decorated with archways of roses, walls of pansies, and pots of wildflowers.
Someone has spent a lot of time, love, and effort on making this rooftop how it is.
It’s so beautiful.
He laces his fingers with mine again, bringing me back to him. For a moment, I forget where I am. He guides me towards the railing at the edge.
“Oh my God!” I thought the view from the balcony was pretty, but this is breathtaking. “It’s amazing.” I take slow steps towards the railing, drinking in the surrounding sights.
He wants me to see all of this. He wants to share this with me, and I don’t know why.
“Do you always bring strangers up here to show them this?” I beam up at him. I don’t care. I only care he has brought me.
He rubs his thumb over my knuckles. “No. I used to come here a lot.”
“Used to?”
He takes a deep breath and turns to look at me. In his eyes, I can see pain and angst, as if it’s hard for him to say the words.
“My mother planted these flowers. I was born in this building. It was an apartment complex, and it was my parents’ first home when they married. It went up for sale about a year before my mother died and my fath
er bought it. He wanted her to have this rooftop again. He loved her so much, he bought the entire building for a rooftop.”
My heart swells because he has given me a sneak peek into another side of Alex, and it makes my heart hurt. But his pain makes my hand twitch. I don’t want him to hurt. I want to wipe it away. I want to touch him until he doesn’t hurt anymore.
So, I do.
“Thank you for coming here with me.” He looks down at me as I press my palm to his chest, and his entire frame stiffens beneath my touch.
“Thank you for taking me here.”
I can’t take my eyes off him.
“I think I like birthdays now,” he says.
“Me too,” I whisper.
I breathe in sharply as he raises his hand and feathers his fingers along my cheek. He’s staring at me with so much intensity I think my chest is going to crack. Then his fingers travel from my cheek to under my chin and he tilts my face up, so I am looking straight at him. I’m sure the pounding I can hear is my heart, but I don’t care, and I don’t want him to stop.
Ever.
“I think I want to kiss you, Mandy.”
His face comes closer, and heat spreads from his touch, making my head spin.
I say nothing. I edge my mouth up a little higher, hoping I can pull him closer. His other hand comes up to hold the side of my head as his mouth meets mine. He stills there, our lips barely touching. But the brush of his lips has an effect so powerful I think I will crumble right here on the rooftop. He pulls away, and I hear him take a long breath. I can’t open my eyes. I’m stuck in one spot and I never want to leave it. I never want his hands to leave my face. And before I have a chance to open my eyes again, his mouth covers mine.
As we move together, my breath hitches and a groan comes from deep in his throat. He kisses me harder. As if the slight pant of my breath makes him lose any control. I give back everything he is giving. And he is giving me so much. I feel everything, our desire, want, and need, wrapped up in one kiss. My arms drape around his neck because I need his support to steady myself. Soft movements and gentle caresses swallow our moans.
“Mandy,” he breathes against my mouth, both our chests heaving frantic gasps. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop kissing you.” He brushes his thumb over my swollen lips.
One kiss.
One kiss changes everything.
I blink, fearing tears will come before whispering, “Then don’t stop.”
Chapter Eleven
I sit at my desk in my classroom on Wednesday afternoon. The kids are content with the colouring sheets I provided, chattering amongst themselves.
I’ve knocked my head in ways to stop thinking about Alex and that rooftop, but he consumes my every move now. With the touch of his lips against mine, he sunk into me, digging deep until my stomach filled with heat.
Goddamn that man and his arms. Those arms wrapped around me so tight they lifted me off the ground to bring my mouth closer to his. I shiver, remembering how his hands wandered over my body. Frenzied. Everywhere and nowhere all at once.
We went our separate ways that night. My lips were swollen, and my hair wasn’t in the perfect position I put it in before going to the restaurant.
I didn’t sleep because I was giddy as a teenage girl who had been kissed for the first time. I stared up at the ceiling, unable to focus on anything else as Claire snored happily in a drunken slumber next to me.
When I slept, it was restless and when I woke to a text message, my heart felt like it had flipped.
Alex: I know they say you should wait three days to contact a lady after you’ve kissed them, but to hell with that rule. When can I see you again?
I quietly squealed, turning over and clenching the phone to my chest.
Maybe he couldn’t sleep either?
The thought made my cheeks flush.
I waited until the afternoon to reply, not wanting to seem too desperate. But my fingers twitched all morning.
Me: I don’t go out on school nights. Too much of a good girl. But I’m free next weekend.
I put my phone on the kitchen counter, but it rang before I could go back to reading the newspaper. Seeing his name, I went into full panic mode. I hadn’t planned on actually speaking to him.
I couldn’t not answer. I texted him less than a minute ago. And it’s not as if his tongue wasn’t back my throat twelve hours before. But I didn’t speak to him much when we did that.
Claire came strolling into the kitchen, fresh out of the shower. “Answer the damn phone.”
“It’s Alex,” I whispered as if he could hear me.
Claire’s eyes narrowed, looking around as if expecting an explanation I couldn’t give.
“And? Answer him.” She waved her hands frantically. “I’ll be in the bedroom getting ready. I have to get back soon anyway,” Claire said, before walking away.
I filled my lungs.
“Hey,” I answered, hoping I sounded cool and not like I was seconds away from hyperventilating.
“So, how much of a good girl are you exactly?” His voice was thick and husky and my legs immediately went to jelly.
I sat back in my chair. His greeting surprised me. I didn’t mean for my text to come across as flirty.
Damn it, Mandy.
First the robe and now the innuendo text message. I really needed to start checking myself.
“Sunday to Thursday, I’m the best.”
Shit. Everything I said to this man made me think of all the things he could do to me on Friday and Saturday.
“So last night was a glimpse into the not-so-good-Mandy?”
“Maybe.” I twirled my fingers in a loose curl, stopping myself almost immediately.
What had I turned into?
“Today is Sunday, which means you have to be good. I hope you don’t mind me being forward here, Mandy, but I can’t wait another week to see you.”
Thank Christ. I wasn’t sure I could wait that long, either.
“Late lunch?”
I smiled, unable to stop my hands from trembling. “I’d love to.”
An hour later, after Claire helped me pick out a red sundress and I stopped hyperventilating, the doorbell rang. Though I tied my hair back in a ponytail, some pieces still fell around my face. It wasn’t summer yet but it was still warm and the humidity was a nightmare.
I calmed myself and shook my hands of their tremble.
I didn’t think it was normal to get so nervous. How could one man make my insides turn so hot I couldn’t think straight?
I opened back the door, and at the sight of him, I knew the feelings I had the night before were far from fleeting. I almost forgot how gorgeous he was. All strong, tanned, blue eyes I thought I could see through, and short dark hair but long enough to be beautifully messy. I remembered running my fingers through it so easily when he wrapped his arms around my waist. And those arms. Surely, it’s illegal for him to have such a powerful effect with just his arms.
Everything about him was hard ridges, and I imagined even harder under those clothes.
Woah! Since when did I start thinking of him naked?
I needed a drink.
Of him.
It was intense.
Too intense, too quickly, and I needed to get a grip.
“Hi.” I smiled, stepping out so I could close the door.
He was tall. My heels made it a little easier to look at him at the party. I craned my neck back as he stepped closer, looking down at me with one of those breathtaking smiles. It was even sexier when I knew it was all for me.
He cupped his hand around the back of my neck. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his lips against my forehead. My shoulders relaxed and my head spun. He smelled so good.
“You look beautiful.”
I blushed like a little girl. “Thank you.”
He took my hand in his and we walked towards the car.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I brought some
one along.”
Okay. That was a little weird.
He chuckled at my reaction as he opened the door for me to get in his car. When I did, I got a wet tongue and fur along my cheek. Heavy panting came from the back seat.
“Bandit,” Alex scolded, getting in on the driver’s side.
I turned in my seat, seeing the happiest fur-ball.
Alex flashed me a cautious smile. “God, I hope you like dogs.”
I couldn’t help smiling so wide my face hurt. “Are you kidding? I love dogs.” I wanted my own, but there was a time I couldn’t look after myself.
Turning in my seat and up on my knees so I could lean over to the back. “Hey, boy. You are so gorgeous. Yes, you are,” I cooed, giving him a good rub. His tail wagged against the leather seats. “What is he? There’s definitely a German Shepherd in there.”
“His mother was a German Shepherd. Not sure what the dad was. He ran the minute he knew she was pregnant.”
“Asshole,” I hissed, laughing again as the dog tried to lick my face.
Not today, buddy. This makeup took too long.
“Sorry, I had to take him with me. He got neutered last week, and he’s needy. If I left without him, he’d howl the house down.” Alex reached his hand back to pet his head. “Poor bastard.”
I bit my lip to stop the laugh. “Well, at least now he can’t be a dead-beat dad like his father.”
“Silver lining, eh.” He patted the dog’s head again. “Sit, Bandit,” Alex said sternly. “Leave her alone.” The dog let out a small whine but did as he was told.
I turned back on my seat and strapped the belt across me. My heart stopped when Alex leaned over and kissed me. Soft and quick, but sweet heavens. My chest exploded.
By the time he started the car, I was trying to figure out how to get the stupid grin off my face.
He brought me for lunch, and we sat outside so Bandit could join us.
We sat under the canopy, out of the sun. The restaurant was old school, and it made me warm with nostalgia.
“I’ve never been here before. It reminds me of our family restaurant back home.”
I looked around at the tables with the blue and white striped tablecloths. The opened blue shutters were exactly like my dad had done at home and I loved the small-town feel. I hadn’t been home in so long, and it made me miss it.
Losing Love (What Will Be Book Series) Page 7
