by Ann Garner
“I needed some time to pull myself together. I’ve never had anyone with me during that time before. I’ll call him.”
“Good. Then my work here is done.”
I start to head out the door, so she can call Cole without an audience. Her whisper soft voice stops me. “Thank you for coming, Grace.”
“Where else would I be?”
“You were at the frat tonight, weren’t you? Did you see Jacob?”
Jacob. What am I supposed to tell him tomorrow? “Uh, yeah, I did, but Cole called and said you needed me,” Pausing I run a hand through my hair. “Grant was there, and he gave me a ride back.”
Both of Delaney’s brows go up in surprise. “Really? How did that go?”
“The ride, or me leaving Jacob to take the ride?”
“Either. Both.”
I drop my head against the back of her door. “He kissed me.”
“Which one?”
“The one I wanted to.”
There’s a slight pause and then she says again, “Which one?”
“Ha!” I give a bitter laugh. “Jacob. Jacob kissed me and it was, God, Delany it was really fucking great. Perfect. It was perfect.” Turning, I lean my back against the door. “Then Cole called and I got into the car with Grant and left him there.” I blow out a breath of air. “So there will be some major ass kissing tomorrow on my end.”
“You can tell him.”
My head snaps up at her soft spoken words. Tell him? About her?
“You don’t want people to know.”
Her smile is weak. “He’s bringing back my Grace. The one who laughs all the time, and is snarky and bitchy.”
Indignant, I interrupt her. “Hey!”
“I prefer you snarky and bitchy. Tell him, Grace.”
“We’ll see. Are you going to call Cole now and put him out of his misery?”
“Yes.”
“Alrighty then. I’m going to go pick out my incredibly loud, blocking out the make-up sex my best friend and my brother are having, music. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Chuckling softly, I hear the thump of a pillow hitting the door as I close it behind me.
Crisis averted.
Somewhat.
Chapter Fifteen
It’s barely cracking dawn the next morning, as I sit in the passenger seat of Cole’s car. The heat from the to-go order of French toast, from the Grease Spoon, is seeping through my jeans. Tapping my fingers idly along the top of the box I wonder again, for the hundredth time that morning, what in the hell I’m doing.
I’m not quite certain that showing up at his door at the ass-crack-of-dawn the morning after a party was the best way to start my apology.
I’m hoping the French toast will help smooth the way because I couldn’t wait any longer to see him and try to explain myself.
Since I’d left my car at the fraternity last night, Cole agreed to drive me, even though dragging him out of bed had been somewhat of a challenge. I’d heard him coming back into the apartment not long after I’d left Delaney in her room, then I’d plugged my headphones into my iPod and fallen asleep listening to The Maine.
“Do they leave the front door unlocked?” Shit, I should have planned this better. Or, you know, at all.
“Grace, how the fuck would I know? I agreed to drive you over here. Hell, I even agreed to stop for the freaking food which took for-fucking-ever. Getting in the damn door is your problem. I’m dropping your ass off and going back to crawl into bed with Delaney. It’s way too early for this shit.”
Eyes wide I study him. “Wow. Your language seriously goes downhill when you’re grumpy.”
Cole grunts. “I’m not fucking grumpy.”
“Okay.” I draw the word out slowly. “If you say so.”
He turns the car onto fraternity row, slowing down as we pull up in front of the right house. The door is cracked open. Guess that answers that question. When the car has come to a complete stop I lean over and give Cole a smacking kiss on his check. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Grace—” He looks uncertain for a second. “Thank you for last night.”
Smiling softly I tell him, “For the record, she’d already come to the conclusion that she shouldn’t shut you out all on her own.”
He nods his head. “I just can’t wait for this fucking month to be over.”
“Agreed.” I slide out of the car, jogging up the stairs to hurry through the early morning chill as quickly as I can. I push through the open door and come up short. There is someone asleep face down in the entryway.
At least I hope they’re asleep.
Given the size of said person I’m pretty certain they’re male. I have to step over them to get to the stairs, wincing slightly when I accidently step on their arm. Pausing for just a moment I watch to see if he’s going to move.
Nothing happens.
But I can see the very faint rise and fall of their back so I at least know he’s alive.
I hurry up the stairs, maneuvering around various empty red cups as I make my way down to Jacob’s room. I stop at the door, one hand on the knob, and pull in a deep breath. The bag of takeout suddenly feels like it weighs a million pounds in my hand.
This was such a stupid idea.
Groaning, I turn the knob and step into the room.
With the shades drawn, and the lamp off, I can just barely make out the silhouettes of his furniture. Lucky for me there isn’t a lot to contend with, so I don’t bump into anything as I make my way over to the bed. Setting the food on the nightstand, my eyes adjust enough that I can see that Jacob is still sound asleep. And, thank you Jesus, he isn’t wearing a shirt.
Lying on his side facing me, with one arm tucked under his head, the muscles in his chest and abs are stretched tight. I’m happy to note they are just as beautiful this time around as they were the last time I saw them. Maybe even more so since this time I’m one hundred percent sober.
The sheet is laying low enough on his hips that I can see the slight V his muscles make, and low enough to make me pretty damn certain that Jacob Ross is completely naked.
Well, what a lovely way to start my day.
Leaning over, I grab the edge of the sheet, incredibly careful not to touch him even though there is nothing I can think of at the moment that I’d like to do more, and start to pull it up over his hips. A small shriek escapes my lips when one of his large hands circles around my wrist, stopping me. Glancing up, my eyes lock on his, which are still heavy with sleep and only half open.
“Hi.” Brilliant, Grace. Just brilliant.
“You’re about to get a show.” His voice is low, deepened with sleep, and incredibly sexy.
“I’m sure it would be a good one, but I was pulling the sheet up and not down.”
His mouth kicks up on one side, that delectable dimple flashing. “That’s a little disappointing.”
“It is.” I agree wholeheartedly.
“What are you doing here this early?”
I lick my lips. “I told you I wanted to see you today. It’s today. So here I am.”
“Yes, here you are.” I take a couple steps back when he sits up in the bed, thankfully pulling the sheet across his lap.
Or maybe not so thankfully.
Raising one brow he says, “You’re either going to turn around for a minute, or things are going to get a lot more interesting.”
Laughing, I spin around to face his door. “That doesn’t inspire me to give your privacy, Jacob.” In fact, I can’t help but turn my head so I can sneak a peek, finding that he hasn’t moved at all, but is studying me instead. Shooting him a smile I turn back around to face him. “I think,” I say slowly as I move toward the bed. “That you should sit there just like that for a few more minutes.”
I stop at the edge of the bed, reaching up I run my thumb over his bottom lip, smiling again at his small groan that suddenly fills the space between us.
“You’re playing with fire, Pixie.”
I sit
on the edge of the bed, still only touching him with the pad of my thumb. “That’s good. It’s fucking cold out there this morning. I could use the heat.”
I drag my thumb across his lip again. Then, while keeping my eyes on his, I lean forward enough so that my lips can brush against his. Softly, teasingly, I let them rest there, unmoving, with our eyes still locked. I run a hand down the side of his neck, over his shoulder and then down the length of his torso, delighting in the shiver that runs across his body at my touch. My lips tilt up in a smile, moving slightly against his, still just the barest hint of contact.
“What are you doing?” He whispers.
“I have no idea, but it’s sure as hell fun.” I whisper back. Then I move in, sliding my mouth more firmly against his. I trail my other hand up the back of his neck, my fingering skimming over the skin before sinking into his hair.
It only takes him a second to get into the spirit of things, his hands moving to rest on my hips, pulling me closer to him as we delve deeper into each other. It’s intoxicating, the way he makes me feel. Like a drug, it moves through my body, seeping into my bones.
I have to draw on every ounce of willpower I have to let this moment go, to pull away from him. His eyes are still closed, his lips wet from mine.
It is perhaps one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen in my life.
“I brought you French toast, so this time when I turn around you should actually put some pants on.”
I face the door, listening to the rustle of him moving out of the bed, padding across the floor and grabbing something out of his dresser. I can picture him. I have a damn good imagination, and I can perfectly imagine what he looks like.
“It’s safe.”
“I doubt that.” I mutter, turning back to face him. He’s pulled on a pair of black athletic shorts that hang low on his hips, and no shirt.
“You seemed to enjoy the view.” He says in answer to my questioning look.
I hand him his Styrofoam container, before opening my own and sitting down on the bed. The bed that is still warm from his body.
“What are you doing here so early, Grace?”
Swallowing, I stab another piece of my pancakes. “I want to try and explain what happened last night.”
He is silent for just a moment. “You left with him.”
“I did.” I stab another piece of pancake, but I still don’t take the bite. “Delaney, she—” I shake my head. Shit, I can’t tell him. Even though she told me I could. “I can’t tell you. She told me I could, but only because she knew I left with Grant and she wanted to help, but I can’t tell you. Just know that I had to get home. I let her down once before, so I couldn’t now. I just couldn’t, and I couldn’t wait, and Grant was the fastest way for me to get there.” I look up. “But it was just a ride. An incredibly uncomfortable, awkward ride.” I take one long deep breath. “Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up before we even really got started. Because I’ll probably cry. And I promise that isn’t something you want to see. I’m an ugly crier, Jacob. A horribly ugly crier.”
I shove the pieces of pancake in my mouth, more so I’ll stop babbling like a lunatic than anything else. He looks so intense as he studies me, and I want to squirm under his gaze. I run my fingers through my hair, tucking and untucking one strand from behind my ear while I wait for him to say or do something. Anything.
After what I swear feels like ten years of silence he says, “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
“Ha! I have my moments. They aren’t always pretty. Eat your French toast, Jacob, so my groveling can be complete and I’ll feel better.”
He smirked, “I thought the wake-up call was you groveling.”
“That was just an added bonus.” I lick some syrup off my thumb before taking another bite. “A very lovely added bonus.”
“I think all your groveling should start that way.”
“Don’t get used to it, smart guy, I don’t plan to be doing it again anytime soon.”
“Well that’s just a damn shame.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Eat your breakfast.”
We’re silent for a few minutes, both of us eating our somewhat lukewarm breakfast. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence, and even though he didn’t actually say it, I know he understands why I left with Grant last night.
I’m only partially distracted by the glory of his half naked body sitting next to mine.
“I thought we could hang out today.” I say slowly. “Low key and just the two of us?”
“I’d love to.” Jacob says, but the tone of his voice indicates that hanging together today isn’t in the cards. “But I have to fly out in a few hours to attend my father’s charity event.”
Hmm. I mean, I know that Mark Ross is his father. Mark Ross who is a legend in the NFL, the same father that he had been compared to on a daily basis when he was playing football. I guess I just never really connected what having Mark Ross for a father might include.
“Don’t you have class Monday?”
“Yeah, this is just an overnight trip. It’s in Charleston so it is a short flight. I’d much rather stay here and be lazy with you. Explore this groveling bit a little more.”
“I want to say it sucks, but you’re going to a charity event so me being bummed that you can’t stay here and make out with me because you’re raising money for—“
“To support an inner city sports program that help keep kids off the streets and hopefully out of gangs. It’s a really great program actually. They have to maintain their grades in order to play, and the program provides tutors, and they have a place set up where the kids can go and use the computer for school since a lot of them don’t have computer access at home.”
“Shit, now I really feel bad.”
Jacob chuckles softly. “I promise half the kids that are going to be there tonight, would probably much rather be home making out with a girl.”
I shove another bite of pancake in my mouth because otherwise I’m pretty sure my lips are going to drop into a pout.
“You could come with me.”
My head jerks up. “What?”
Smiling he repeats himself. “Come with me.”
“I, um, don’t have a plane ticket.”
“I’ll get you one.”
“Or a dress, or whatever I would need to wear to a formal charity event thing.”
“It’s a barbeque. No formal wear required.”
Shit. “I, ah, I’d hate to spring a last minute guest on your father.”
“I promise, other than berating me for not playing football anymore or the obligatory father/son publicity photo, my father isn’t going to acknowledge my presence.” He stands up, gathering the trash from our breakfast, and stack it on top of his dresser next to the lone picture. “You’d actually be doing me a favor, Grace. I hate these things.”
He looks so excited with the prospect that I can’t say anything but, “All right. Let’s get me a ticket.”
Chapter Sixteen
I fidget the entire way from the airport to the location of the charity event. My fingers tap restlessly on my knee, my foot bounced like a kangaroo hopped up on major drugs. I twirl my hair, which I try desperately to never do, and I know I’m only steps from chewing on my nails. A habit I gave up in the sixth grade when a boy told me he thought it was a gross habit.
Jacob is sitting calmly next to me in the back of the black town car that had been waiting on us the moment we exited the Charleston International Airport. He’s playing absently on his phone after placing an incredibly brief and stiff phone call to his father to notify him that he was bringing a guest.
That he was bringing me.
I should have suddenly remembered a major test I needed to study for, or faked a heart attack. Anything to keep me from actually having to go through with this. I’m not normally a nervous person, I can handle myself in most situations, and I have absolutely no qualms whatsoever about talking to anybody about anything.
But his father plays in the NFL, which means his friends probably play in the NFL, and those said friends were more than likely going to be at this event tonight.
So these weren’t regular people. Not like the ones I was used to anyway.
“Relax.” Jacob lays a large hand on my knee, effectively stopping my leg from bouncing. “I promise, for the most part, you and I are going to be totally ignored. I’ll make the appearance, take the photos, we’ll eat some incredibly good food and then we’ll go to the hotel. In and out in less than two hours.”
“Are you sure I’m dressed okay?”
I glance down at my jeans, tucked neatly into a pair of dark brown boots that come up to just under my knees. It’s fall, and the event is going to be outside so I’ve layered a pale blue button up dress shirt with a navy sweater, the ends of the dress shirt hanging out slightly below the sweater. I’ve wrapped a pretty red and blue plaid scarf around my neck.
“I feel ridiculously under dressed.”
“You look beautiful, Pix.” He squeezes my knee. “I’m not exactly rocking a suit here.”
“Guys can get away with being underdressed.” I mutter after taking in his attire. He’d dressed in jeans, just as I had, along with a pale blue plaid shirt covered with a light gray sweater. “Which is ridiculously unfair.”
“You look beautiful, Grace.” He says again just as the car rolls to a stop. I glance out the window and let out a soft gasp of surprise. We’re in front of a huge house. Like a really fucking huge house. A really fucking huge plantation house.
“Where in the hell are we?”
Jacob chuckles. “My father’s place.”
My head whips around. “You didn’t tell me we were going to your dad’s house.” I hiss. “Wait. If the party is here then why are we staying at a hotel tonight?”
The car door is opened before he can answer. The hand still resting on my knee squeezes one more time before he slides out.
What in the hell have I gotten myself into?
When I get out of the car I’m greeted by an older man in a dark navy three-piece suit, who I know isn’t Jacob’s father. Jacob is smiling, shaking his hand. “Hello, Lawrence.”
