by Scott, S. L.
After emptying my glass, I chuckle and then kiss her. The intoxicating mix of her lips dipped in whiskey makes me wonder if she’s ever had sex in a parking lot. Because fuck, she turns me on. Pushing up against me, she drags the bottom of my shirt down, stretching the cotton. How can I care about the shirt, though, when the brush of her fingertips against my skin has my stomach muscles contracting? Every touch a shot of adrenaline heading south. I suck in enough to keep my abs hard before weaving my fingers with hers and kissing the top of her head. Then I settle on a barstool.
Bryant passes around four more shots, and says, “Another round is due. Cheers.”
Holding the glass, she says, “I’ve been known to get a little wild when tipsy. You sure you can handle me?”
Slipping my hand under her jacket, I dip just under the top of her jeans and hold her close. “Don’t worry, baby. I can handle you.” The secrets held in her eyes begin to unravel as she leans against me. Tapping her glass, I add, “Bottoms up.” Dirty images come to mind as our eyes stay locked while the liquor slides down.
Catching the notes of a song she likes summons a smile right before she sets her glass down and starts swaying her hips. I like watching her move like she’s alone, dancing for herself. It’s still controlled, but it’s gaining as she moves between my legs and closes her eyes. Her hands rest on my thighs, grounding her to me, to this earth like she’s close to floating away.
She slowly opens them and catches me staring. I slide my hands over her hips and then tuck into her back pockets. “You called me baby. I’ve never been anyone’s baby before.”
My gaze dips to her lips, remembering the way they take mine when she leads and how I can feel the passion she puts into every one of our kisses. Dragging my tongue along my bottom lip, I then ask, “How do you feel about being my baby?”
The lift of her eyes and the hope I see inside has me moving to hold her around her lower back. She kisses my chin and then her lids dip closed as she kisses my mouth. With our lips still together, she whispers, “Like I’m living in a dream.”
“It’s real, baby. Just like we are.” I could draw a map of her body from memory, but, God, I want to know everything else about this girl. “Tell me about you getting tipsy.”
Laughing as if an entertaining memory returns, she says, “Ruby and I get tipsy off wine, but we never drink the hard stuff. This one time she visited me in Newport, she fell into the water trying to get the motor started on this little boat we borrowed from the neighbors.” She giggles.
“Borrowed? I think that’s called stealing.”
Todd yells from across the table, “We playing or what?”
“Give her a minute. I want to hear this story.” Returning to her, I add, “Maybe I misjudged you. I mean, if you’re willing to break the law, what’s a few little rules?”
Taking the stick in hand, she walks around it once. She’s a tease, but I’m still not sure if she even realizes it. “I told you I’m not that innocent.”
If she knew how much I’m already into her, she wouldn’t have to sell me. I’m already buying. I touch her, tug her in quick, and whisper in her ear, “And here I thought I was trouble.”
“You are trouble, Joshua Evans.” She runs her hand up my arm and around to my back. “You’re just the kind of trouble I need.”
“He’s trouble, all right.”
Fuck me.
I should have known Dana would show up. Leave it to her to ruin a good night.
11
Chloe
I’ve seen enough movies to know how this goes. Joshua is a local with a reputation built long before I showed up in this town. Every girl in here has been eyeing him since he walked in and staring daggers at me. So, I think it’s safe to assume that this woman is one of many who have had their heart broken. By him, still remains to be seen.
His hand hasn’t left my hip, but his irritation from the intrusion is written across his face. He says, “I’m not looking for a fight, Dana.”
With her hands up in surrender, she says, “Geez, just stopping by to say hi.” If the tight smile didn’t do it, the death glare my way contradicts the nonchalance she’s trying to portray. It doesn’t take a psychologist to figure out she suffers from lingering feelings.
“Hi,” he replies, glancing at her.
“Haven’t seen you in a while. Where you been keeping yourself?” When she steps closer, I feel oddly possessive and lean against him.
The heat of his hand is felt through the denim as he slides it across my lower back and anchors it on my waist. “School started, working . . .” He eyes me. “Spending time with my girlfriend.”
I notice how polite and steady his voice has remained despite her trying to get a reaction from him. I still don’t like being in the middle of this.
“Girlfriend? That’s new for you.”
He stands, and says, “If you’ll excuse us . . .” We move to the other side of the table, and he leans against a column. I pretend to watch Todd take the shot, but I keep my eyes on the other woman as she tries to hold a conversation with Bryant, who appears disinterested. Annoyance eventually gets the better of her, and she leaves, blond hair swinging.
I’m glad we moved. Joshua’s discomfort was becoming mine. He says, “It’s your turn.”
“Motherfuck,” Todd gripes. “I sank the cue ball.”
My attention returns to the green felt, and I wiggle my shoulders in celebration. “I’ll take the victory.”
Joshua laughs, but I know he’s still dealing with the aftermath of that confrontation by how it doesn’t reach his eyes. “One for Fox.”
Todd asks, “Another game?”
“Happy to kick your ass twice.” I take the stick and chalk up again while he racks. I come back to Joshua, and ask, “Want to play?”
“I’m enjoying being a spectator. You’re good.”
Without the distraction of the other woman, the sweet way he called me baby has me floating on cloud nine. “You know it, baby.” I wink, serving that sweetness right back.
Todd looks at me. “Ready to break?”
“Trying not to,” I reply offhandedly.
He doesn’t get it, but I’m thinking Joshua does because he pulls me back against him, curled around my backside. “Have you been hurt before, Fox?”
I spin around in his arms. “Hurt feelings sure, but not a broken heart.” I shake my head ever so slightly. “I’ve not been lucky enough to experience that kind of emotion.”
Gently pinching my chin, he stares into my eyes. He inhales, drinking me in with his mocha eyes. I never thought I’d be the kind of girl who uses food or weather to describe features of another, but here I am, feeling the steam weaving between us from the embrace. The seriousness dissipates and his eyes narrow as if I’m speaking a foreign language. “Not getting a broken heart is lucky?”
“No. I’ve just never experienced feelings deep enough to damage me when it ends.” Realizing, with him, the potential is there, I catch my breath, trying to regulate it. “I must sound crazy.”
“You don’t.” Dipping down to eye level, he says, “I’ll let you in on a secret.” My heart is beating on the edge of each breath when he lowers his hands to my hips, tucking his fingers into my belt loops. He has me right where he wants me, right where I want to be. “I haven’t felt that way about anyone either.”
“You haven’t?” I whisper. “What about—”
“No one.”
Ending my curiosity with two words, I’m starting to believe we’re in this together.
“Check this out, Josh,” Bryant says.
He doesn’t move a muscle as if I’ll lose faith if he does. I won’t. I’m already in too deep. I say, “Tell me something. If everyone calls you Josh, why have you never corrected me from calling you Joshua?”
After a quick sweep around the room, he flattens his hands around my waist, his thumbs touching the skin at the top of my jeans and sending a thrill through me. “I like the sound of my name when y
ou say it.”
The cue chalk bounces off his shoulder. Following the path where it came from leads us to Todd, who shrugs. “Let her go, man. It’s game on.”
I’m about to take my turn, but I’m caught by my wrist and pulled back. Kisses cover my neck. “Kick his ass. Again.”
“Will do.” I saunter to the other side of the table while Bryant and Joshua start a game of darts. I lean down to line up my shot. I pop the ball, blowing it. “Dammit.” I stand back so he can take his turn.
Glancing up at me, he says, “He likes you.”
Although his honesty is refreshing, I wonder why he’s telling me. “I like him.”
He sinks a ball and then sets up his next shot. Todd’s good at not shining a light too bright on the conversation, keeping it low-key. Bending over the table, he turns back to glance my way. “He’s never brought anyone like you around before.”
“Like me?” I hold my anger in, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
When he misses the next shot, he comes to stand next to me, keeping his eye on the felted table. “Josh isn’t like the rest of us.” No matter how he phrases it, I know I’m not a part of the “us” he means.
After a casual game of pool and a few shots, it was easy to pretend I fit in, but I have a feeling it’s not me who notices the differences, but them. Is this a warning without Joshua hearing? The lump in my chest is growing, but I try to hide the insecurity. Leaning against the edge of the table, I ask, “What is he like then?”
“You.” Grabbing his beer, he takes a sip, then continues, “He’s so fucking smart.” Relief washes through me. This is unexpected. “But he never acted differently. His mom and him have always struggled to make ends meet. Both work their asses off for whatever they want. They earned every fucking thing they have.” A quick scan around us ends on me. “Except when it comes to school. That kid never studied. He didn’t have to. He even got his acceptance letter to Yale early. Never bragged or made a big deal. Bryant and I knew he’d get in, but to a lot of the locals, he was just another hell-raiser.”
Chuckling to himself, he continues, “Don’t get me wrong. He’s raised some hell like the rest of us, but I wish he would have left this town. Too many people are waiting for him to fail.” The pointed look he gives in Dana’s direction isn’t missed.
I’ve dealt with a lot of insecurities over the years about my place in Newport. Were people friends with me because I’m a Fox or because I’m me? But I never felt like anyone wanted me to fail. I felt the opposite. They want me to succeed to hold my coattails. Well, my family’s coattails, technically.
When I return my gaze to Joshua, everyone I’ve seen him interact with likes him, so it’s hard to understand why anyone would want him to fail. “That’s envy,” I reply.
He says, “Sounds like you know the feeling.”
A waitress sets down two more shots. She says, “Seth sent these over.” Todd holds his glass up to the bartender.
“I didn’t fit in at home either,” I say, taking advantage of the opportunity and drinking it. This one slides right down.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. I fit in with—”
“Bryant has no dart skills,” Joshua says, dragging a stool over. “It wasn’t even a challenge. Are you stripes, Chloe? You’re doing good.”
I caress his cheek, the lightness disappearing as his features soften for me. “I fit in with you.”
“You do. We fit together.”
Nodding, I then kiss him. “Why haven’t you been in love before?”
The question seems to catch him off guard. Chuckling, he asks, “Why haven’t you?”
“Touché.” Knowing it’s my turn, I study the table, trying to figure out a calculated move that will lead me to another victory. Squinting an eye, I’m tempted to test the wind. Who am I fooling? I just play for fun.
“Hey, Chloe?”
“Yeah?” I reply, lifting my gaze from the table to Joshua.
“I don’t want to land lines with you. I want to know how someone so beautiful and fun hasn’t been snatched up by the wrong guy?”
“What makes you think I’d fall for the wrong guy?”
Smirking, he shoves his hands in his pockets. I like that there’s confidence with a hint of uncertainty. I feel that, too. He says, “Because you said yes to me. Also, you never answered my question.”
“You never answered mine.” I hit the ball.
“Tease.”
I burst out laughing. “Now that’s something I’ve never been called before.” With his eyes on mine, a look that undresses me set in the fire inside, has me thinking I’m ready to spend time alone with him. But first, I must win. I take my turn and sink three balls before Todd pockets four.
The competition is stiff, but a beer that Joshua brought over keeps me from getting upset. I’m quite the opposite, in fact. I scratch, losing to Todd. “Shallow victory.”
He volleys back, “It wasn’t shallow when you won the same way.”
“That’s because I won.” I laugh, and then tell him, “Good game.”
“You too, Fox. If you ever want to play, hit me up.”
“Hey. Hey.” Joshua steps up with his arms open wide. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m standing right here.”
He may only be teasing, but I love seeing him jealous over me. Is it bad that it turns me on? Whoa, it’s definitely time to go. Pressing against him, I whisper, “I’m ready.”
His hand plants on my ass, his thumb rubbing along the middle seam of my jeans. “Ready for what?”
The connection has my heart racing and my body tingling. I don’t think anyone’s touched me so intimately, and my body is on high alert, reacting to his electricity. “Ready to be alone.”
Butterflies in my stomach, heart palpitations, and slight lightheadedness. The symptoms lead me to believe I’m either giddy or having a heart attack. I’m hoping it’s the former. I giggle, whiskey making my head swim.
“You’re reading my mind.” His tone is filled with innuendo, and I’m here for it.
How? How is it possible to have blooming feelings for this man I barely know? How? Despite my head, I take his hand, my heart ready to follow him anywhere.
12
Joshua
What am I doing? Although the hunger to have sex with her is overwhelming, I want to do this right for her. It’s been a struggle not to touch her—her face, those lips, her hands. I could have mauled her back at Lucky’s if she would have let me.
A smile graces her lips—a perfect day reflected on her beautiful face. She sticks the key in the lock, letting a giggle slip out like she’s never had the chance to laugh like that before. Why?
I have so many questions for her, a deep-seated desire to know who Chloe Fox is and how I’m the one who gets the pleasure to discover this gem.
What is she thinking when she purses her lips to the side? She jiggles the lock. “The key gets stuck sometimes.” Okay, that answers that question, but I want to know the secret behind every one of her smiles.
Ambition doesn’t motivate her. It’s a goodness that’s built inside her, one of my favorite of her traits. She makes me feel like a better person just from being near her. Don’t get me wrong. I’m no angel, but with her I’ll try to be on my best behavior.
The door down the hall opens, and a girl with dark hair and a long T-shirt crosses her arms as she leans against the frame. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the infamous Joshua Evans.”
“You must be Ruby.”
The side of her mouth rises with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve heard of me?”
I glance at Chloe who’s beaming, whether from happiness or whiskey, I’ll take it. She says, “Ruby Darrow, this is Joshua—”
Ruby asks, “The infamous Joshua Evans?”
I ask, “So, you’ve heard of me?” and chuckle.
With a shrug, she replies, “Chloe talks.”
Tapping her fingers, she pivots her eyes to Chloe. “You were rig
ht.” When her gaze comes back to me, she adds, “I’ll admit I was starting to think she had given her vibrator the name.” Chloe and I haven’t exactly been quiet the past few weeks, but damn, this chick is not shy. Duly noted.
As she laughs with cheeks flaming red, Chloe’s eyes go wide. “Oh my God, Ruby. That is too much information. We’ll keep it down.”
Not giving a damn, her friend makes herself at home out here in the hall. “Please don’t,” Ruby replies with a wave of her arm. “It’s the only action I’m getting these days, so carry on so I can live vicariously.”
The bolt clicks, and Chloe opens the door. “Annnnd, on that note, we’re going in.”
I say, “Good night.”
“Night.” Before our door closes, Ruby says, “I’m going to need every detail, Chloe. Every. Detail.”
“Good night,” Chloe calls from inside her apartment, yanking me inside.” I want you, Joshua.” Her lips are on me, her hands roaming as if she’s searching me. I’m tempted to resist just to see if I’ll get handcuffed.
Catching her wrists, I hold them between us. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Holding tight to my shirt like she’ll lose me, she asks. “Are we moving too fast?”
“We can slow down—”
“Sorry,” she says with a light laugh. “I’m nervous. I don’t want you to be a one-night stand.”
“If we’re numbering our dates, this won’t be the first one.”
She tilts her head, amusement reaching her eyes. “How do you figure?”
“I’ve been over here at least seven or eight times. You’ve been to the diner twice. There’s Lucky’s tonight. The Art Gallery. Kline building, and the time I caught you by the water fountain. That’s . . .” I think that’s it. “Am I missing anything?”
With her arms tightening around my neck, she says, “I’m going with thirteen then.”
“Exactly. Technically, this is a thirteen-night stand.”
“Lucky number thirteen.”
