by R. C. Martin
I know the feeling.
“Okay, I really have to run; but I will see you tonight—wait, will I see you tonight?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, lifting my shoulders guiltily. “If no one pushes for us to go out tonight, Trevor and I might just hang out at his place after the guys play.”
“Mmmhmm. Hang out. Sure,” she teases. “Well, if that’s the case, maybe Rome and I will have to break-in the kitchen without you.”
“It doesn’t really count if you bring the food into the kitchen already made.”
“Says who?” she asks before sticking her tongue out at me.
“Hey, Corny!” I call, looking around Logan at my brother. “Were you planning on saying hello to your sister, or did you expect your girlfriend to do that for you?” He shifts his attention from Trevor to me and rolls his eyes before he stands and heads my way. I smile at Logan who returns the expression as she sips at her latte.
“You two looked like you needed a few minutes,” he tells me as he comes to stand beside Logan. He leans across the counter that separates us and I meet him halfway so that he might greet me with a kiss on my cheek. “I’m actually going to come have lunch with you after yoga. I think you’ve got some things to fill me in on.”
“A couple things. You know, nothing major,” I say demurely, scrunching my face. “And I’m guessing you have a couple things you want to tell me about, too.”
“Yeah,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “Some minor life changes. No big deal.”
“You guys are weird,” pipes in Logan. We smirk at each other, both of us amused and flattered that she thinks so. “Walk me to my car?”she asks Roman, reaching for his hand.
“Absolutely.”
“Don’t forget your drink,” I tell him, nodding toward the cup on the counter.
“Thanks.” He turns to leave just as he’s taking his first mouthful and then stops dead in his tracks after he swallows. “Gross. Babe—?”
“Whoops!” she chirps, swapping cups with him. “My mistake. I took the wrong one.”
“Sure you did.”
She ignores his mild irritation. “Bye, Skank,” she calls out over her shoulder as they head for the door. “Text me.”
“I will.”
Brandon walks into the cafe just as Roman and Logan walk out. He spots Trevor and stops to greet him with a handshake and a word. Trevor says something to make him laugh and I smile, even though I don’t know what’s funny.
“You know,” Lori begins to say, startling me from my thoughts. “If you looked smitten up in the dictionary, I’d bet you anything that you’d find a picture of your face wearing the expression you are right now.” I tear my eyes away from Trevor and force myself to look at the woman beside me. “You’re practically glowing. Love looks good on you,” she tells me, pinching my cheek.
I chuckle before I say, “Thank you. It feels pretty damn good, too.”
“So, can I take that comment, your smile, and the fact that he’s still here, an hour into your shift, to mean that you’ve finally told each other how you really feel?”
I open my mouth to answer but I’m interrupted before I can speak. Brandon and Trevor approach the counter at the same time, Trev with his sketchbook and pencil pouch in hand. “Wings, I’ve got to go. I have to pick up a couple things for the shop before I open. I’ll be back to get you at three?”
“Yup,” I confirm, making my way around the counter to say goodbye. I push myself up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. “I love you,” I whisper into his ear.
“I love you, too, baby.” He kisses my shoulder and I loosen my grip on him so that I can get a proper kiss goodbye. He presses his lips to mine once. Twice. Three times. “Yeah, we’re not going out tonight,” he mumbles before kissing me again. I giggle as he kisses me once more and then pulls himself away from me. “I’ll see you soon. Bye, guys,” he says, parting with a wave.
I watch him go, feeling completely pathetic and lovesick for missing him before he’s even out the door. When I turn around to head back behind the counter, I find both Brandon and Lori staring at me with satisfied smiles on their faces. “Oh, yeah. I told him,” I say, answering Lori’s question from earlier.
“Hell, yeah! I think you deserve a treat,” says Brandon, holding up the paper bag he’s got rolled up in his hand. “How does a cinnamon apple croissant sound?”
My eyes grow wide as my mouth instantly starts to water. “Oh, my god—yes, please!”
Judah and I stay for our weekly meeting before he escorts me to his Porsche and we drive down to Denver. Since we missed the morning traffic, and Judah has a bit of a lead foot, our drive is under an hour. He spends most of his time on the phone making business calls, for which I am grateful; but I can feel it every time he looks over at me. I try and ignore the butterflies I get when he does.
I won’t lie to myself and say that I’m not nervous to be alone with him away from the office. While I’ve gotten quite used to working alongside of him, being out in public with him is different. He’s made himself crystal clear when it comes to me and what he wants. Every time we’re out, he does something or says something to try and remind me. The hard part is that I feel as if it’s in my nature to respond to his advances. It’s like…breathing. I’ve been doing it so long, I hardly think about it. But I have Roman to think about now.
Roman. My boyfriend.
I’ll never forget last night; the way he looked at me when I took his hand—and again when I asked him what was going on between us—and again when I started to cry. I’ve always been captivated by his eyes. I can’t explain why, but they’ve always had the power to pull me in. Even when he didn’t like me. Now that he does—every time his gaze rests on my face, he makes me feel like he sees so much more than even I can see. With one glance, he makes me feel beautiful and desired, but also unique and special and precious. One glance. If I could choose to be anywhere doing anything, I would choose to be in his arms, underneath his gaze. He wouldn’t even have to kiss me. We wouldn’t have to talk. I’d be happy to just watch him watch me the way that he does.
It sounds kind of creepy, but it’s true. Not only is it true, but it’s so unlike me. It doesn’t really make sense how I’ve managed to get to this place where Roman, of all people, is all that I want. I guess that’s what makes us so…complicated. This wasn’t my plan. Until last night, I wasn’t even sure if I was ready for a boyfriend. Actually, truth be told, I still don’t know. The last time I got myself tangled in a bitchy situation I got hurt. I’m not even sure if it was worth it. All I have to show for it is a half-assed friendship with the guy and months of me becoming someone who resembles an adult.
Well, the adult part isn’t so bad.
The point is, I don’t really know what I’m doing—but the thought of being without Roman, or going back to how things used to be between us, makes me sick to my stomach.
Is this what love feels like?
Everything seems to be happening so fast these days. It’s been exactly three weeks since he agreed to be my fake boyfriend and, twenty-one days later, Trevor and Daphne are not only a couple, they’re moving in together! And Roman and I haven’t grown to be just friends, we’re falling in love. That first part doesn’t surprise me. Not really. They’ve had a sip of the Kool-Aid and now they’re addicted. I’m glad, though. It’s about damn time they got their happily-ever-after.
As for Roman and me—
“Logan?”
I look beside me in the driver’s seat, pulled from my thoughts at the sound of Judah’s voice. I find it empty. I quickly turn my head the other way and see that my door is open and his hand is held out for me. As I let him help me out of his car, I wonder how I managed to miss the point in time when we stopped.
“Are you alright?”
“Um—”
He squeezes my fingers comfortingly. The instant my stomach starts to tingle, his touch seems anything but calming. I yank my hand away from his, feeling guilty about the w
ay my body responds to him. Every. Time.
Great, I’ve been a girlfriend for twelve hours and already I suck at it.
“I’m fine. Sorry. I just zoned out for a minute.”
“It’s me who should apologize. It was rude of me to make so many calls. I really needed to get those things taken care of.”
“Don’t worry about it. Really. So, this is it, huh?” I walk towards the building, hoping he’ll follow without feeling the need to touch me again. Not surprisingly, he got amazing parking in the middle of downtown Denver. Only Jude. “It’s not what I was expecting,” I say, looking up. It’s an old brick building, tall and narrow, sandwiched between a hotdog joint and a barber shop.
“He was here first,” he replies, his amusement evident in his tone. “His gallery occupies the second and third floor.”
The elevator is temporarily out of order so we have to take the stairs. I try not to imagine Jude staring at my ass the entire time we climb, but I know he is. They always do. When we’ve reached the top, he opens the door for me and my jaw falls the moment I walk inside. Right in front of me, I see a painting that I need. I feel Jude’s hand glide across my back, persuading me in a different direction, but I pay him no mind.
The painting looks like it’s just arrived, sitting all by itself propped up against the wall below the empty space I assume it’s going to hang. It’s only partially covered, the cloth that’s draped over it has slipped onto the floor, leaving half of the image exposed. The sound of my heels on the cement floor makes every step I take echo until I stop and carefully pull aside the rest of the covering.
It’s a impressionist painting of a woman sitting at a bar. It’s painted as if the artist was standing behind her, admiring her. Her back is against the bar, her elbows propped up on the counter. Her head is turned to the side and it looks like she’s dressed for a party straight out of The Great Gatsby. It’s painted in various colors that remind me of dusk and I imagine that the woman is the first to arrive at the venue and she’s waiting for her friends to join her. Or her lover.
“That one just arrived this morning.” I turn at the sound of his husky voice. Immediately, I spot the old man who walks with Jude. He’s got brown skin and curly white hair. He walks with a limp and a cane. For a second, I feel horribly rude for making him come out here for an introduction. It’s not long before I change my mind. When he smiles at me, I feel my face light up with a knowing grin. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he loves what he does. I bet he spends hours wandering around his collection. “Haven’t had a chance to mount it yet,” he says, nodding at my painting. “Although, something tells me I won’t have to now.”
I return his smile with one of my own before my gaze drifts back toward my first find. The canvas is huge. It would be a wonderful centerpiece on the wall that I’ve been designing over the past week. I want to cover it in various pieces of art, each in unique ornate frames of mismatched shapes and sizes.
“I’m Fredrick, by the way.”
“I’m so sorry,” I gasp, turning to shake his hand. “I’m Logan and apparently easily distracted today.”
“Nonsense,” he says kindly. “You came right in and followed your heart.”
“It is beautiful. I’m almost afraid to ask how much you’re wanting for it.”
“We’ll take it.”
Jude takes a step closer to me and rests his hand on my back. I look up at him, fully prepared to challenge him on his blind purchase. Then our eyes meet and my words dissolve in my mouth before I can get them out. He’s looking at me like he wants to eat me and, as much as I don’t want to admit it, it’s actually really hot. All at once, the heat of his palm spreads like wildfire all over my body and I feel like I might suffocate if I don’t pull my eyes away from his. He beats me to it, turning to address Fredrick.
“Anything she wants today, she can have.”
“What?” I mutter, dumbfounded.
“Let me go get one of my guys to take this one off the floor. I’ll be right back.”
I barely register Frederick’s departure, too distracted by Jude’s declaration. “Did you forget that we have a budget?”
“No. If we exceed it today, consider anything extra a charitable donation to The Archibald.”
“Jude—”
“You love it. I love the way you were drawn to it. I want you to have it.”
As he speaks he pulls me closer, his gaze traveling back to the canvas. For a second, all I can think about are the things he’s saying to me. He’s being very generous. Too generous. These paintings aren’t for me. They’re for The Archibald. Even if they were for me, I wouldn’t need him to pay for them. I wouldn’t want him to. Art that’s worth well over a thousand dollars is not a cocktail purchased to snag a woman’s attention. Furthermore, I don’t want him trying to vie for my attention.
“Logan?” He speaks my name softly, but his deep, dark voice can be felt as his chest vibrates with the sound. The fact that I can feel his voice brings me back to my senses and I think of Roman—I think of Roman and my heart reminds my body that I’m currently in the wrong arms.
“We should find out how much this one is,” I say, stepping away from him. “I’d like to keep track of how much we’re spending.”
“Logan—”
“I have a boyfriend,” I say, turning to face him directly.
“Yes. I’m aware.”
“Then what are you trying to do, exactly?” I ask, suddenly irritated with him for flirting with me so boldly.
He clasps his hands together behind his back and takes a step toward me. “Your relationship status may have changed, but what I want hasn’t.” He smiles slyly before he continues. “I can offer you more than he can. Apparently, I’ll have to prove it. Like I told you before, I usually get what I want, Logan.”
I think back to when he first used that line. Then, I thought it was dangerously attractive. What girl wouldn’t like hearing an Adonis like him talk about wanting her with such blatant disregard to any and all obstacles that might stand in his way? But I happen to like the obstacle that’s standing in his way.
“It’s too late,” I say with a shrug. “I’m with Roman, now. I can’t be bought—or stolen, for that matter.”
“In which case, I’ll just have to borrow you.”
What the hell?
My eyebrows shoot up in shock as I’m appalled and offended by his proposal. “I’m not a cheater,” I state adamantly.
“Today, you aren’t,” he says confidently.
Fredrick returns before I have a chance to respond, but it’s probably for the best. Suddenly, I don’t even want to be standing anywhere near Judah. The fact that he even thinks that it’s okay for me to cheat on my boyfriend makes him a certified jackass.
“Fredrick,” I begin to say, turning my back on Judah, “contrary to Mr. St. Michael’s romantic notions, I am shopping on a budget today.” I link my arm with his, hoping he’ll soon be swayed to side with me. “I’d like to keep tabs on my running balance. Please tell me that gorgeous piece is no more than five grand?”
He chuckles and pats my arm comfortingly. “You’re safe.”
“Fred—can I call you Fred? You just made me one happy girl. Now that you know the way to my heart, what other beauties might I be able to take off your hands?”
“Let me show you upstairs. I have something I think will suit your interests quite well.”
As he begins to lead me toward the staircase in the middle of the room, I look back over my shoulder at Judah—or rather, I pierce him with a challenging glare. He might be a hot genius, but he’s a hot genius who plays dirty and I refuse to join in.
He winks at me and I roll my eyes before giving Fred all my attention.
It’s almost one thirty in the morning when I pull in and put my truck in park. I hope she’s still awake, or at least sleeping light enough to hear her phone when it rings. I thought I could go one night without her, but I can’t. That might make me some sort of love
sick, pussy-whipped boyfriend, but I honestly don’t give a shit. I’ve spent too much time fighting what I want. I won’t do it anymore.
I dial her number and she picks up on the second ring. “Hey,” she mumbles.
“Hey, baby. Did I wake you?”
“Not really,” she says through a yawn. “I’ve been in and out for the past hour. I think it’s my pillow. It’s too soft, too cold, and there’s no pulse underneath the surface.” I can hear the smile in her voice and it makes me smile, too.
“Sounds like you’re missing your boyfriend pillow.”
“Yeah. Roomie night has him banished to his bed and me to mine.”
“Well, technically, roomie night was yesterday. Could your boyfriend come up now?”
“You’re here?” she gasps.
“Yeah,” I chuckle, looking up at her door.
“Get your ass up here, then.” As I step out of my truck, I see her front door open. She does a little happy dance at the sight of me and I hurry up the stairs to meet her. “Hi,” she murmurs as I scoop her into my arms. “What are you doing here?”
“You were in your bed. I was in mine. One of us was in the wrong place.”
“Well, I’m so glad you decided to rectify that. Come on.” She pulls away from me and locks the front door before taking my hand and leading me to her room. The lamp on her nightstand casts a dim light across her bed and I watch her climb in under the sheets as I strip down to my briefs. “What did you do tonight?” she asks as I join her.
“Nothing. I headed home after I closed up the shop.” I drape my arm around her waist and pull her close. When she comes willingly, hooking one of her legs over mine, my cock jerks to life. It’s only been a few days, but being with Daph has increased my appetite. I’ve never been this satisfied and yet it’s like I can’t get enough. When I’m not with her, I think about her; thinking about her fills me with want; my want makes me hard. Needless to say, it’s been an uncomfortably long day. I force myself to ignore my desire for now, wishing to hear about her night. “How’d it go, tonight?”
