by Reagan Shaw
Inside, the air was close, a little smoky, and the thump of music, the strum of guitar, filled the open spaces with sound and sex. People danced out on the floor, some grinding into each other, other swinging wide and pulling off moves I’d only ever seen on TV.
We grabbed a table in the back, small, lit by a kerosene lantern, and sat down side by side, our backs to the cushy booth’s seat.
“What do you think?” Noah yelled.
“I think this is going to make it difficult to talk,” I replied, loudly.
Noah leaned in and brushed fingers up my neck. He blocked my ear with his thumb, then leaned in and spoke again. “Not really,” he said, and though he spoke normally, it was loud and clear. “You just gotta know how to hold a conversation. And be comfortable with it.”
Comfortable with it? My nipples were at full attention. Down, girls.
I turned and plugged his ear with my finger, leaning in close, brushing up against him, maybe a little intentionally. “This is your idea of a fun night out with a friend?”
He nodded, then raised two fingers for a waitress. She sauntered over and gave him fuck-me eyes while she took our drinks order. I settled for a light beer—last thing I needed was to have my inhibitions lowered around Dr. Cox. Already, the vibe in the club had gotten to me. I was just about ready to grind with him on the dance floor, even though I’d sworn I wouldn’t do any such thing.
He leaned in again, his skin on my skin. “Relax, Erika. I’m not trying to get under your skirt. I just wanted you to experience something new.”
I risked a small smile. It was sweet of him. And it was the perfect way to blow off steam, given that I was relatively patient-free at the start of my tenure with St. Katherine’s. This would likely be the only time I could look back on that wouldn’t be jam-packed with appointments or in the delivery room.
“Thanks,” I said back. Our drinks arrived, and we sipped on them steadily, and in silence. Had he manufactured tonight so we wouldn’t have to talk too much? I appreciated that. I wasn’t ready to share much of myself with anybody, especially not Noah.
He downed the last of his drink, then got up and held out his hand to me. “You ready?” he asked.
I hesitated but took his hand. He swept me down the steps and onto the lowered dance floor, just as the music shifted to something a little more modern: “Wild Thoughts” by Rihanna.
Oh god, here we go.
Noah held me close, pressed one hand to my lower back, just above my ass and rested the other near the straps of my dress. “Sway,” he said, and showed me. “Like this, see.”
We swayed together. Noah taught me a few steps and I followed them, shocked at the fact that he was into this kind of thing. The jock doctor who enjoyed salsa dancing. And hates your guts. Teases you. Makes your mouth water.
My red dress against his white shirt. My arms around his neck. Hips swaying, my abdomen pressing into his. I worked my body against his, and we maintained eye contact as he swung me out and back into his arms.
People moved around us, but I didn’t notice them, couldn’t think. There was just us in this moment, the heat, sweat dripping down the back of my neck, his dark eyes on mine, his fingers stroking lower and lower until they took my ass cheek and squeezed.
I pressed my breasts against his chest, felt the muscles through his shirt, lost my breath. He dragged his nose across my cheek, nipped at my chin. The guitar tinkled around us, the heavy beat of the bass thrummed through me.
Too late to turn back now.
I looked up at him, my nose touching his now, and he leaned in for the kiss. The kiss that would surely break me, once and for all.
My handbag buzzed against my side, slung as it was over my shoulder, and I jumped, took a step back. Just like that, the moment was broken, and I was back to reality. Noah cleared his throat, gestured back to our table, then took my hand.
We hurried back, and I took my seat, slipping my phone out of my bag and glancing at the screen. “It’s Luna!” I yelled. “I gotta take this.” There wasn’t a good reason she’d interrupt me tonight—since she was convinced this was my shot with Noah.
“I’ll come with you.”
I hurried outside, Noah right behind me, and halted on the sidewalk. The air was cool out here, and it was still loud, but much quieter than the club had been. “Shoot, I missed the call.” But no sooner had I said the words than another call from Luna came through. “Hello?” I pressed the phone to my ear. “Luna?”
“Erika!” she wheezed. “You have to get back to the apartment. There’s been an accident.”
“What type of accident?” I asked, but she’d already hung up. I’d never heard her in a panic before, and that fact alone gave me chills.
“Problem?” Noah asked.
“Yeah. Something’s wrong with Luna. I’ve got to get back to the apartment, right now.”
“I’ll hail a cab,” Noah said and stepped up to the sidewalk’s edge. There wasn’t a question as to whether he’d come with me or not. He’d simply assumed that he’d tag along, that I needed him around. And for once, I was grateful.
Noah
We arrived at Erika’s apartment building thirty minutes later, the night ruined, but far from over. Christ, we’d been so close to losing it on that dance floor, but all of that tension had been erased by one simple phone call.
I paid the cab driver while Erika rushed up the steps ahead of me. I followed her, rushing just as much as she was, though my wide stride made up for her harried footsteps. She was gorgeous, even as she ran with panic written all over her face.
Christ, it made this even more difficult. Made me want to hold her. Protect her. Do things I’d never envisioned doing, not once, not fucking ever.
We hit the elevator and Erika punched the button for the third floor, frantically.
“Hey, easy,” I said, and shifted her hand from the pad. “It’s going to be all right.”
“But she’s not answering her phone,” Erika replied, but set her jaw. She wasn’t hysterical, just worried, and I took her hand in mine and squeezed it. “Just want to know she’s all right.”
“She’ll be fine,” I said, as the elevator doors rolled open. We stepped out into the hall and our feet squelched on the carpeting.
“Huh?” Erika looked down at her fancy shoes. “Oh my god. There’s water everywhere. Everywhere.”
I pointed to her apartment door, which was open, and which appeared to be the source of the flood. Water trickled out of it and into the hall. A few of the other residents had come out to assess the situation.
“Luna!” Erika yelled, and her friend finally made her appearance, detaching from a group of people at the other end of the hall and rushing over, her feet splooshing with every step. This would’ve been humorous if not for the sheer horror in her expression.
“Well, shit,” I said, and scratched a hand through my hair.
“There you are.” Luna halted in front of us, breathless. “Oh—my. It’s the—oh.”
“What happened?” Erika asked. “The apartment’s flooded?”
“You can say that again.” I stepped forward and peered into the place. Water pumped out of the kitchen, likely from the sink. Or was it?
“It’s a busted pipe or a few of them. Oh gosh, I don’t know what it is, all I know is I was in the bath, enjoying some me-time, when this horrible cranking squeal rang out. And next think I knew… Water, everywhere. Water pouring out from under the sink. I just—the super’s gone to switch off the water for the apartment, but it’s already too late, Ricky. The place is flooded. It’s ruined.”
“Oh my god,” Erika whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t believe it. Can they fix it? Can we still live here?”
“They can and they have to. Goddamn, my parents didn’t buy this apartment for it to flood and put me out of a home. Look, I’ve already called Mom, and she said they’re sorting it out with the building’s board. They’ll fix this, but for now, we’re going to have to relocate.�
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“You’re kidding,” Erika said. “I can’t relocate. I’ve got residency with St. Katherine’s.”
Luna bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ricky. It all happened so fast. I—I could ask my folks to help put you up in a hotel until it’s fixed.”
“No!” Erika responded. “No. No, I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me.”
“You can stay with me,” I said, without thinking first. She can do what now? Have you fucking lost it? But my brain was detached from my mouth. “Yeah, I live close to the hospital, and I’ve got plenty of spare rooms in the suite.”
“Suite?” Erika asked. Both women stared at me as if I’d grown an extra head.
“Penthouse,” I replied.
Luna’s jaw dropped. “Well, OK then. All’s well that ends well, right?”
“No, not right,” Erika replied, and squelched a step closer to me. “Noah, look, that’s really kind of you, but I don’t think it’s the best idea for us to be staying together.”
“Kind of me? So much for that tough, bad-boy exterior,” I said and quirked my lip in a half-smile. “It’s not open for discussion. You can bet your ass, if I call Marc right now and tell him what happened, he’ll practically fucking beg me to take you under my wing.”
“Sure, that makes it so much more appealing,” Erika said. “I love being a charity case.”
“Well, it’s this or invest in a scuba suit.” I nodded to the apartment. The water had finally been shut off, but the place was practically fucking swimming.
“Very funny,” I replied.
“You should go with him,” Luna said. “I mean, my mom is driving down to check this place out, and after that, we’re heading straight back up to Syracuse.” She stepped closer to Erika and lowered her voice, but I could still make out every single word. “Seriously, just take this opportunity to get to know him better. Maybe you’ll discover something you like.”
“Luna,” Erika hissed.
“Stranger things have happened,” I put in, and both women blushed. “I have a guest room with an ensuite bathroom, Erika.”
“Fine,” she said at last.
Apparently, the bathroom had sold her. Maybe it was the prospect of a shower after a long and sweaty night. Or maybe, it was just the fact she had nowhere else to go. Either way, I’d fucking take it. What I’d said about Marc? Total bullshit. He’d probably go into anaphylactic shock if I mentioned his sister was staying with me.
Much like Erika, he was still caught up on the old Noah. He saw me as the guy who got women and left them, rather than one who had no interest in anything other than what I did for a living. Fuck it, it would be nice to have someone else in the apartment. Some noise other than the distant hum of traffic downtown.
I waited for Erika to say her goodbyes to Luna and trudge into her bedroom to collect a bag of clothes, hopefully not ruined. I took it from her when she came out and carried it to the elevator. She followed me, silent, shaking her head.
“It’s going to be OK,” I said.
She shrugged. “It has to be,” she replied, then looked over at me. “Thanks for doing this, Noah. I know it’s not what you want.”
“Isn’t it?”
But she looked away before I could drive that point home. She wanted me as bad as I wanted her, and the guise of despising me would fall away soon enough. This was dangerous, having her living with me, the temptation there all the fucking time.
This wasn’t part of the plan, but I couldn’t back out now. Couldn’t imagine her struggling, paying for a motel close to the hospital while she waited for shit to get sorted out.
I called a cab, and we rode to my apartment building in silence. She sat against the opposite door, staring out at the passing streets. I gave her the time to gather her thoughts. Fuck it, I needed the time myself.
What would happen when we were up there together? Fuck, I’d always gone for what I wanted in the past and gotten it. Why would I stop now? I’d already involved myself in her life, pushed too far and too hard.
Was I whipped? Was this what it felt like?
If I closed my eyes now, pictured her gone, back in Chicago, zero complications, I was instantly hollow inside. Christ.
The cab pulled up outside my building, which overlooked Central Park, and I got out and opened the door for her, carried her bag inside.
“Wow,” she said, stopping short of the front doors. “This is a nice place.”
“I like it,” I replied. “Come on, Erika, it’s late.”
She didn’t budge. “You’re the only one who talks to me like they think I’ll do what they say.”
“It’s just who I am,” I replied, and that was true. Years of this much swagger hadn’t dulled my original confidence. People fell around me. I was the rock, I weathered the storm, and she was cut from the same cloth as me. She wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise.
“Do you know who I am?” Erika asked.
I stared at her without answering. Cars rushed past, the normal stream of traffic, no matter the time of day or night.
She nodded. “That’s what I thought.” Erika walked past me, delectable in that red dress, her heels clicking on the concrete.
I entered after her and nodded to the doorman as we passed. I hit the button on the elevator, and we rode up to the top floor. The elevator opened up on the apartment. I led her into the massive living room, windows overlooking the park, the lights, the buildings.
She stalled just past the now-closed elevator doors. “Holy shit,” she said.
“Thanks,” I replied, and laughed. “I hardly see it anymore.” I checked my watch. “In fact, I’ve got an early appointment tomorrow morning.” It was an excuse, of course. Sure, I had that appointment, but we both had a day of work ahead of us, and the longer I spent around her, the more I lost the grasp on what I fucking wanted.
Her? Or more than her? More than just a night, a week? A conquest?
“OK, sure,” she said and slipped off her heels. She lifted them in one hand and padded across the marble floor. “Where should I, um, sleep?”
“This way,” I said, and walked across the living room. “Kitchen’s through there.” I gestured. “Main bedroom. Bathroom one. Guest room with ensuite. This is yours. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be up a little while longer.”
“Thanks,” Erika said and squeezed past me, and I almost fucking lost it again. I inhaled her scent and held it in. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She faced me again. “Seriously, thank you for this. I really do appreciate it.”
“No problem. What are, uh—fuck, whatever. Look, it’s no big deal.” I handed her the bag, then walked off down the hall, each step faster than the last. The more space I put between us, the easier it became.
No emotions. Just sex. That was the rule. So what was this hot fucking lump sitting in the center of my chest whenever I thought about her? This had to stop, now.
Erika
I showered and changed into the pj’s I’d swiped from the apartment. Loose shorts and a silky strappy top, a pair of fluffy slippers I’d bought at Target because why the hell not? My stomach rumbled, and I pressed a hand to it.
It had been a long night, and I hadn’t eaten a damn thing. All the dancing, the sexual tension, and then the shock of what had happened to the apartment had taken its toll.
Noah had said he’d be up a little while longer, but it had been at least a half an hour. The coast should be clear, and he showed me where to find the kitchen, told me to help myself to whatever I needed.
I swallowed and padded to the bedroom door, opened it, and peered out.
The hall light was on, and Noah’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, but the room past it was dark. He was likely asleep by now.
I bet he sleeps naked. Ooh, that was a bad train of thought. I hurried down the hall and into the living area then past it toward the kitchen. I entered and paused to admire the space—it was my dream kitchen, for sure.
I’d
always loved cooking, and this was both sleek and stylish, all silver and granite tops, but cozy, with a center kitchen island, and pots and pans hanging from the ceiling above it.
I made for the fridge right away, opened it, and peered inside.
“Bingo!” A box of pizza sat on the top shelf. “Please don’t have anchovies, please don’t have anchovies.” I removed it and placed it on the countertop, then flipped the lid open. No anchovies in sight, but plenty of pineapple. “Double bingo.” I lifted a cold slice from the box.
“Hungry?”
I shrieked and tossed the pizza slice up. It flopped back into the box, scattering pineapple everywhere. I grabbed at my chest, covering it instinctively, because this pajama shirt was far from modest.
Noah leaned against the doorjamb, topless, those swirling tattoos and colorful images stark by the kitchen’s overhead light. He wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, and the V that led down past the waistband was painfully obvious.
He radiated power. He commanded the room.
“I didn’t know you liked pineapple on pizza,” I said.
He stepped forward, approached the kitchen island, and I backed around the side, away from him.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Erika,” he replied.
I swallowed my nerves. Christ, I was a doctor, a fully grown woman, and he was not going to intimidate me like he had in the past. “Like what?” I asked. That’s right, keep him talking and ignore how fucking much you want him right now.
“Like, my parents are unhappy,” he said, and I quit walking.
“What?”
He laughed. “Shit, that slipped out. Always the case when you’re around. I say shit I don’t mean to.” He inhaled, shrugged those burly shoulders. “Fuck it, what’s the harm in telling you? I know you’ll keep this shit to yourself. My parents are unhappy. Always unhappy. They loved me and my brothers growing up, but they hate each other.”
