by Jacob Chance
She releases my hand. “How did you like your first manicure?”
“I’m done?”
“Yep. If you were a girl, I’d be painting your nails too.” She smirks. “Do you want your nails painted? I can do Boston Terrier scarlett.”
I’m tempted to say yes just to lighten the somber feel our night has taken. I’ll do anything to make her smile. “Do I get to give you a manicure now?”
Chapter Eleven
Perri
His mischievous grin has me smiling. “Not tonight. I’m not done with you yet.” If only I could mean those words the way that I want to. I’d like to have my way with him. I’d start with his lips and work my way down to his-- Stop thinking about his perfect, sculpted, hard… stop.
He leans toward me. “I like the way that sounds, but I’m sure what I’m thinking and what you have planned don’t line up.”
I giggle, “Not unless you were fantasizing about a facial.”
He sighs and leans back in his chair. “Definitely not what I had in mind.”
“I think we should move this out of the dining room and into the living room.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to relax when you have a facial and sitting straight up in these hard chairs isn’t going to accomplish that. We need a recliner.”
He tips his head toward the other room. “I’ll show you the king of recliners. What do you need me to carry for you?”
“Everything I need is in my bag. I’m prepared.” He grabs the canvas pouch from the table and leads me to the enormous living room. “God, this room is incredible. I realize I said that earlier, but I think I might every time I come in here. The fireplace is massive.”
“Those stones all came from this property and it was built by a well known mason.”
“Can we light a fire sometime?”
“Tomorrow night. We’ll have a fire and make s'mores. How’s that sound?”
“I love s’mores and think that’s a fantastic idea.”
He leads me over to a worn leather chair. “How’s this recliner? Will this suffice?”
“Yep. Have a seat and lie back. You’re going to enjoy this more than you think.”
He sinks down onto the seat and cranks the lever to recline. Once he’s settled, I have to resist the urge to climb on his lap and cuddle with him. Instead, I rifle through the bag for what I need.
“I’m going to put this headband on you to hold your hair back.” Leaning over him, I settle the elastic sports band over his head and push his brown hair back. My fingertips relish the sensation of his thick strands. I want more than anything to allow my fingers to explore every inch of his head and delve between the shiny locks.
As I draw back, our gazes connect and I see hunger reflected in Nolan’s. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and his hands grip the arm rests. At least he’s as affected by my nearness as I am by his.
“Close your eyes and relax. This will be painless, I promise.” His smile is closed lipped. No sign of that tempting dimple, but I still know it’s there.
I squirt some toner on a cotton ball and begin to wipe down his face. “Damn, that’s cold and wet. What are you putting on me?”
“It’s toner to clean your skin. I can’t clean your skin with a dry cotton ball. There needs to be cleanser.”
Setting the cotton ball on the coffee table, I smirk as I think about what comes next. I squeeze some apricot scrub on my fingers and rub them together before applying the product to his skin. It only takes one simultaneous swipe of both hands across the sides of his nose and top of his cheeks before he protests.
“Are you rubbing sand on my face?”
I giggle, “Nope.”
“Gravel?”
“No. It’s a scrub to remove dead skin.”
“I don’t have any dead skin, but I have a feeling I will after this. Scratch that, I might not have any skin left.”
I snort, “Nice pun. I promise this won’t harm you and when I’m all done your face will feel as smooth as glass.”
His lips quirk. “I’ll be happy if I still have any feeling left.”
“Ha ha. Stop whining and relax. You’re ruining the moment.” I spread some more scrub over his forehead and admire his handsome face as I smooth it over the rest of his chiseled jawline. Feeling daring, I add some just below his bottom lip, purposely going too close. “Oops, I got some on your lip.” Wiping my hands on a towel first, I sweep my thumb over the edge of the masculine curve. My heart dances wildly inside my chest like a Fred Astaire tap routine as I touch his full lip. What would his mouth feel like on mine? What would he do if I kissed him right now?
My eyes skim over his face and fuse with the kaleidoscope of blues staring up at me. Crap. How long has he been watching me ogle him?
I force a smile. “There. All set.” I back away and grab a washcloth from my bag. “I’ll be right back. I need some water to remove that scrub.” Spinning around, I scurry away like a dog with its tail between its legs. Once I reach the kitchen sink I take a few deep breaths to calm myself before I wet the cloth with warm water.
Giving him a facial seemed like a fun joke until I started. I forgot the not so small detail of how I’d have to touch him and be in close proximity to him the entire time. Talk about a test of strength.
I’ve never wanted to kiss someone as much as I want to kiss Nolan. And he’s the last guy I should be smacking lips with.
Get a grip. I’m not some sex crazed girl who throws herself at guys. And even if I wanted to, no one’s ever wanted to get in a relationship with the dean’s daughter, especially the guys with athletic scholarships. Their fate lies in my father’s hands and they can’t seem to forget that fact. But my dad’s a consummate professional and I can’t imagine he’d abuse his power. Not even if someone broke my heart. But father’s have been known to do crazy things when it comes to their daughters. And he did warn me from day one.
The time has come to suck it up and return, so I plod back to Nolan. He’s reclined with his eyes closed, but they pop open as he hears me.
“Time to wash that off. I usually don’t leave it on this long. Hopefully it won’t remove any of your skin.”
The dark slashes of his brows raise. “Are you kidding?”
I laugh, “Totally.” Leaning forward, I cover his face with the warm cloth, slowly wiping away the scrub.
“Hmm, that feels great.” His deep, rumbly voice has my stomach whirling, but I focus on the task at hand. I run my fingertips down one of his cheeks to make sure I got it all. His skin is smooth and warm until I move lower where prickly stubble can be felt along his jawline. I drag my fingernail over the new growth, shivering at the rougher texture and imaging it chafing my inner thighs. Oh fuck me.
“Are you cold?” Nolan questions, snapping me out of my X rated musings. Was he watching me react to him?
“I’m okay. Just caught a quick chill,” I explain. “Next, comes my favorite part. I have a Korean mask for you. You’re going to love this, even if you won’t admit that you do.”
He smirks. “I’m not afraid to be in touch with my feminine side.”
“You might disagree in another minute.” I tear open the packet the mask comes in and spread it out over his entire face. Slowly allowing my fingers to smooth the wrinkles out and stretch it out over his skin.
His eyes are a stark contrast to the white mask. “Fuck that’s cold.”
“Hold still and relax. You have to stay like this for ten minutes.” Busying myself, I pick up all my things and place them in my bag.
“Now would be an ideal time for you to share another secret with me since I’m being tortured.”
“This is nothing compared to what women endure. You’re lucky you’re a guy.” I want to tell him that torture is wanting to kiss him so badly my lips burn with anticipation. Torture is inhaling his masculine, woodsy scent and not pouncing on him. Torture is being alone with him and not being able to take advantage of the situation.
> “Tell me about your column for the school paper. You said you’ve been covering sports for someone else. What’s your usual column about?”
“I do human interest stories. Most of the time I get to choose what I write about, but occasionally my editor will tell me what I need to cover.”
“How do you figure out what stories to write?”
“Sometimes I’ll find a cafe off the beaten path and write about my experience there. Other times it might be a vintage store that has great clothes or a record store where I find an album I’m excited about. I usually don’t plan what I’m writing. I prefer wandering the city and stumbling across interesting places. I always have a notebook with me, so it doesn’t matter when it happens and that helps to keep it fresh for me. Otherwise it could start to feel like homework and not something I want to do.”
“Will you write about coming here?”
“I might. I guess it depends on where you take me. Then again, I could do an article on giving the Terriers’ running back a manicure and facial. No doubt that story would be a huge hit.”
He laughs. “That would be extremely cruel of you and you don’t strike me as a mean spirited person.”
“I don’t think you know me well enough to judge for yourself, but I agree. I wouldn’t do something so underhanded to you. If that was my plan, I’d just tell you outright.”
“You must find it difficult to juggle school work and your responsibilities to the paper in addition to working. How many nights a week do you dance at Score?”
“It varies depending on my course load, but usually I’m there three or four.”
“Do you still take dance classes or are you a pro now?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop formally training. My dance teacher can see things I’m doing wrong that I can’t. That’s kind of like saying if you went to the NFL you wouldn’t need a coach. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying my dancing level is the equivalent of an NFL player because I’m not. I’m just making a point.”
“Don’t put your talent down. You’re an amazing dancer. I feel like I need to say you’re an amazing athlete because what you do goes beyond grace and coordination.”
“Wow. Thanks. It’s nice of you to say. I think dance is a lot harder than most people give credit for. The moves look easy. A lot of people assume it’s something anyone could do.”
“I can see where that would happen. You do make it look effortless. And your aerial routine has to be ridiculously difficult, but no one would discern that by watching you.”
“I’ve been doing it for a long time now, but when I first started out, believe me, it didn’t look polished like it does now. My movements were jerky and awkward.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“It’s true though.”
“Could you teach me how to do some stuff?”
“Aerial moves or dance moves?”
“Aerial. I want to fly like Superman.”
“I could probably teach you a few things. You’re strong, so you’d probably do well.”
“Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”
I maneuver over next to him and rub my palms together. “It’s time to remove the mask and reveal what’s beneath. Drumroll, please.” Nolan plays along, drumming his hands on his stomach as I raise the edge of the white film. Peeling it away, I bulge my eyes out and gasp.
“What?” His brows are drawn inward with concern.
I cover my mouth. “Holy shit. I’ve never seen this happen before.”
“What happened?”
Shaking my head, I don’t answer.
“What’s going on?” Getting impatient, he sits up and kicks the footrest down.
“Wait.” I lower my hand from my mouth and call out, “Suckah.” Peals of laughter uncontrollably ring out of me.
“You little creep. I can’t believe you did that to me. I thought my skin had turned green or something.”
My hands clutch my stomach, the muscles aching from laughing so much. “Oh God, that hurts. Don’t make me laugh anymore.”
“I didn’t make you laugh at all. You did that all on your own, little trouble maker. I’ll get you back when you least expect it.”
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist messing with you. And your reaction was hilarious.”
“So you’ve made pretty clear now.”
“Come here.” I crook my finger, calling him down toward me. He leans forward and I raise both
my hands to either side of his face. Fingertips skimming over his skin, I rub the remainder of product into his skin. He closes his eyes and sighs with pleasure when I stroke across his brow.
“All done.” He lifts his eyelids and stares down at me. Reaching up, I remove the headband from his hair and run a hand through his rich locks. The soft strands caress the sides of my fingers as I rake them back and let them fall forward once again. “Are you ready to see how you look?”
“Do I look different?”
“Your skin looks nice, but you’re still ugly.”
He laughs, “Then what do I need to see myself for?”
“Not to change the subject from how hideous you are, but I’d love some dessert. Any chance of finding something that fits the bill?”
“What do you have in mind?”
My tongue runs along the inside of my bottom lip as I ponder his question. As much as I’d like to blurt out the word ‘you’ I don’t. “Why don’t you surprise me?”
Chapter Twelve
Nolan
I’d like nothing better than to surprise her by kissing the breath from her, but that isn’t what she wants. And if I take the chance and make a move, I might ruin this friendship we’re developing. I enjoy her company. She’s quick witted and intelligent. I can talk to her like I’ve never been able to with other girls. I’m comfortable around her for the most part and she seems the same with me. The more time we spend together, the better it gets. I’d rather be stuck in the friend zone than not have her in my life at all.
“Nolan, are you okay?” Perri waves a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my introspection.
“Sorry. I was just trying to remember what dessert options we have. Why don’t you find something we can watch and I’ll be back in a few.”
“Let’s play a game instead.”
“A board game?”
“Do you have a deck of cards?”
“There should be one in the basket on the coffee table. We play a lot of cards in my family.”
“Are you a gambler then?”
I smile and shake my head. “No, we play gin and go fish most of the time.”
“Hey, those are great games. I like crazy eights and spades too.”
“Me too. Let me grab dessert really quick.” Trekking to the kitchen, I open the freezer, appreciating that my mother would’ve stocked it before she left for vacation. There are five unopened gallons of ice cream. I settle on cookies and cream and place it on the counter before grabbing everything else I need.
Once I make the sundaes, I hurriedly clean up and put everything away. Carrying the two bowls with spoons and a pile of napkins, I return to the living room. Perri’s seated on the enormous couch with the playing cards stacked on the coffee table. I pass off her bowl of ice cream and she immediately scoops a mouthful, sliding it between her lips, moaning.
Handing a napkin to her, I set the rest on the table and drop down next to her on the couch. “Good?”
“Mmm, amazing. I haven’t had ice cream since the fall.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s cold outside.”
“But you’re eating inside.”
“I know it makes no sense, and none of my family or friends avoid eating cold things in the winter. I can’t remember why I began doing that.”
“I’ll break you of the habit. An ice cream a day keeps the doctor away.”
“Is that your dad’s motto?” She continues to devour her sundae.
“Nope, that’s one of
mine.” I smirk.
She tugs the spoon from her lips. “One? How many do you have?”
“A few.” I scoop some ice cream into my mouth.
“Let’s hear them.”
“Train hard, win big.”
“I like that.”
“Leave it all on the field.”
She points at me with her spoon. “Of course you’d say that being a football player.”
“It’s not something that only applies to the football field. That’s how I live my life. No matter what I’m doing, I give it my all. If I fail, it will never be for lack of effort on my part.”
“I just thought of my motto. ‘Dance, it’s cheaper than therapy’,” she laughs and I join in.
“I also like ‘believe and achieve’. I think it’s important to have goals,” I explain.
“So, do you have these printed out somewhere?”
“No, I just have them memorized. And I remind myself of them when I’m stuck in a moment of doubt. If practice isn’t going well, I tell myself that training hard, even when I’m sucking, will lead to winning on game day.”
“Have you ever had a game where you played poorly, but tried your best?”
“Of course. Those days are unavoidable. And hopefully, the rest of the team plays their A game when that happens.”
Perri rises from the couch. “I’ll take your bowl.” She holds out her hand.
“No, let me get yours.” I move to stand and she shakes her head.
“Don’t make this awkward, I’m already up.” She has a valid point. I pass the empty bowl off and watch as she spins around like she’s dancing on stage. My gaze traces over the back of Perri’s form from the top of her head down to her sock laden feet. Moving up to linger on the curvaceous shape of her ass, I study the gentle swaying rhythm of her hips as she moves further away from me. Watching her move is hypnotic and intoxicating. I get lost in the moment and it’s only when she disappears from sight that my bearings return. I fall backward on the couch relaxing into the cushions and contemplate my out of control attraction for Perri. If she comes back in here and sits down next to me, I’ll be hard pressed not to kiss her. I can’t allow that to happen. It would ruin our time together and she’d probably run back to Boston.
