by Amity Cross
Josh led me through Federation Square and down some stairs that led to a hidden path. It followed the length of the Yarra River, which flowed through the center of the city, carving a serene passage below the bustling streets above. Turning back toward the city, I was surprised to see a bar tucked underneath the very place I’d been waiting earlier. It looked like it was some kind of vault, the bluestone facade reminding me of a warehouse or a Victorian era wine cellar. It was tiny, so there were benches and tables out on the foreshore, the sounds of the city rumbling above us.
“Drink?” Josh asked as we stood by the bar that had service through the window as well as inside.
“Please. Beer.”
“Beer?” he asked, his eyebrows rising. “I thought you’d like a martini.”
Slapping him on the arm, I scolded him, “Smartass.”
Laughing, he handed me a menu. “Pick whatever you like. My shout.”
“I don’t mind paying,” I said, scanning the menu. It was simple food like burgers and potato wedges with a few fun sides thrown in to spice things up.
“Don’t emasculate me, Sparks.”
Elbowing him, I returned my attention to the menu. “I want the mac and cheese croquettes.”
“Mac and cheese?” he asked, seeming surprised at my choice yet again.
I shrugged. “It comes with baconaise.” His eyebrows rose. “Bacon meets mayonnaise. Seems like a match made in heaven if you ask me.”
“Fair enough, Sparks,” he replied with a shake of his head and turned to order.
We sat at a table right on the edge of the bar, looking out over the river as boats cruised past. Eating our food in silence didn’t feel awkward at all, and I thought that was a good indicator of compatibility with someone. The ability to just be with another person and not have the inclination to fill the void with inane words. What was it called? Companionable silence.
“How were the mac and cheese balls?” Josh asked, lifting his glass of beer to his lips.
“Croquettes,” I corrected him. “And they were brilliant. Very cheesy.”
He smiled, his eyes sparkling in the warm half-light from the bar behind him.
“How have you been?” I went on. “Your ribs not bothering you?”
“Nup. They ache some but nothing major. The arm pisses me off the most.”
I frowned, my gaze dropping to the cast on his arm. “You’ve got pain?”
“Holly,” he said. “Turn the doctor off for tonight.”
My actual name on his lips sounded alien, and I blinked hard. I’d gotten used to him calling me Sparks, and I didn’t realize how much I liked it.
“But if it hurts, it might not be mending correctly and—”
“It doesn’t hurt,” he interrupted. “Tonight is about you and me. Let go of all that shit, Sparks. Just focus on now.”
I cocked my head to the side, my fingers curling around my glass. Tonight was about me and him. Now. This moment. It seemed like a simple enough thing to do, but my brain was hardwired to doctor mode. Stop making excuses, Holly.
Picking up my beer, I downed the rest of it and slammed the glass back down on the tabletop. “I’m ready.”
Josh began to laugh and shook his head. “Then I think we’re ready for phase two.”
“Which is?”
He smiled and picked up his beer to finish it off. Then he stood and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his left arm around my waist. “Come with me, Sparks.”
We ventured back the way we came, through Federation Square and down Swanson Street, weaving our way through the mass of people out and about. He held me close, my body fitting snugly against his side, and I could feel the ripple of hard muscle underneath his shirt. Damn.
There were still so many questions I wanted to ask him, but like he’d said, tonight was just about now. This moment. Those other things would come later…or they wouldn’t.
Josh was guiding me through a door, the bouncer standing out on the footpath giving us the once over.
“What’s this?” I asked, staring up at the sign over the door.
“The Hi-Fi Bar,” he said as we descended the stairs down into the bowels of the building.
“We’re seeing a band?” I asked, my gaze following the people who were going out for a smoke. They looked like alternative rockers with their torn jeans, leather jackets, and band shirts.
“A really good one,” he retorted as we reached the bottom.
He smiled at the girl behind the counter, and she was so pretty I found myself bristling with jealousy.
“We’re on the list. Josh plus one.”
I raised my eyebrows and made a face at him. “Mr. Popular, huh?”
He shrugged, not fussed about it. “I know one of the guys in the band, and he hooked me up.”
The girl checked her list and waved us through. “You’re good.”
Another set of stairs and we emerged into the venue. The bar was bustling with activity, and beyond, the stage was lit with a moody blue light. Instruments, amps, and all kinds of equipment were being set up by furiously working roadies as people lingered around the front of the stage, waiting for the band to come on and play.
“I don’t know if this is your thing, but it works wonders for letting go,” Josh said beside me.
“Letting go?” I asked, wondering how so many people could fit in the darkened space.
Grabbing my hand again, he pulled me through the crowd until we stood in front of the stage, squashed together. Damn, he’d led me right into the mosh pit. I wasn’t sure if this was my thing or what I was meant to do once the band came on, or if I’d get out without suffering a concussion.
I stiffened as I felt Josh’s arms wind around me. “I’ll protect you, Sparks.”
“I sure hope so,” I retorted. “This is unknown territory for me.”
“You’ve never been in a mosh pit?”
I shook my head. “Too hardcore for me.”
He didn’t have time to make fun of me because the lights went up, and the band came out on stage as cheering and clapping erupted around us.
The moment they started playing some fast rock song, we were jostled by jumping bodies. I began to panic at the sensation of losing control—it was like an ocean of people were trying to drag me under—but Josh’s arms held firm even with the cast on his right side. Letting the music wash over me, I allowed the movement to take me away, and soon, I was jumping with them, my arms in the air.
Fuck, I felt free. This was what he was trying to make me feel all night, and as adrenaline coursed through my veins, I felt like turning around and kissing him. I was reckless and daring, the constrictions my job put on my life totally falling away until I was just Holly. Just Holly jumping around like a fucking idiot with eight hundred strangers and one really hot guy.
One song melted into the next, and when the house lights came up, I almost cried in disappointment. I wanted to go again.
Leaning in, Josh kissed me on the cheek, and I stood transfixed. I was so dazed by the whole experience he had to lead me outside like a child. I didn’t mind in the slightest.
Emerging out onto the street, I spun around with a wide smile on my face, and Josh caught me in his arms.
“You’ve surprised me a hell of a lot tonight, Sparks.”
I hesitated, not sure if it was a good thing or not. I’d done my best to be myself and not feel awkward around him—which was hard considering my lady bits were juicy all night—but was it enough to keep him interested now that he’d seen me outside of the hospital? When I really thought about it, I wasn’t sure who I was outside of that place, either. I guess we were both meeting the real me for the first time.
“It’s a good thing,” he murmured, running his hand over my waist.
Shit, he was edging closer. Did I want to kiss him? Yeah, but not on a street corner. If he kissed me, I’d throw him down right here, and we’d be arrested for public fornication.
“Do you—” I swallowed hard, trapped in hi
s gaze.
“Do I what?” he prodded, his mouth quirking.
“Do you want to come to my place? I have beer.”
“Only beer?” he asked, his fingers tightening on my waist.
I nodded. “To begin with.”
He stared at me like he was waiting for me to change my mind, and when I didn’t bite, he let his hand fall and grasped mine again. “Lead the way.”
As we walked hand in hand through the city, I wondered what he’d make of my little slice of Melbourne and the boxes that were still piled up unopened months after they’d been delivered. Pretty mediocre after what he’d just shown me.
* * *
“This is your place?” Josh asked, staring up at the apartment building I kind of called home. I say kind of because I still hadn’t unpacked.
At twenty-six stories high, the modern apartment block, which sat on the edge of Melbourne’s Docklands development, looked pretty impressive from the outside. It was smack bang on the edge of the city center—the skyscrapers marking the heart of the city a stone’s throw away.
I paused on the footpath, shyness creeping back into my psyche. “So?”
“I just imagined…” He trailed off and sighed. “I don’t know what I imagined.”
“I do what I do because I want to,” I said, bristling at the realization he was put off by my paycheck. “I don’t do it for the money.”
He snorted and stared back up at the building.
“What?”
“Somehow, I believe that,” he said, his gaze returning to mine. “New York to Melbourne. Must’ve been a hell of a pay cut.”
I shrugged. “Who cares? It brought me to this moment, didn’t it?”
We rode the elevator up to my floor in silence. He stood next to me, our arms touching, and when we got to my front door, he stepped aside to allow me to unlock it.
Venturing into the apartment, I didn’t bother turning on any lights. It was dark and moody, the glow from the city shining enough on us to keep the feeling of the night we’d had so far intact.
“Nice boxes,” Josh said as he stepped in behind me and closed us in.
“Shut up. I’m a busy person.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Take a seat,” I said, opening the fridge and pulling out two beers.
Turning, I found he’d already made himself at home, so I kicked off my boots and padded over to the couch. I handed him one of the beers and sank down beside him.
“How have you been?” he asked, twisting the top off the bottle. “After the other day?”
I’d hoped he wouldn’t bring up the moment he found me crying over Sammy out the front of the hospital. This entire night had gone so well, the weight of Sammy’s loss had seemed to lift from my shoulders. Archer was a cold bastard, but in some ways, he’d been right. We’d done everything we could in that moment.
I shrugged. “Some patients never leave you. It gets easier over time, but it’ll always be there. No matter what I do or how much I know, I can’t save everyone.”
“It sucks,” he said, glancing at me. “But I reckon you save a fair few as well.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I glanced out of the windows and across the city. Skyscrapers dominated the scene, and orange and white lights sparkled across the horizon as Melbourne stretched off into the distance.
“Can we not talk about that?” I asked. “It’s depressing, and it’s been such a good night.”
“I’d rather not talk at all.”
Shit. Ninety-nine percent of me wanted to launch myself on him, but a small part of me was afraid, and it was that slice that stopped me from diving in headfirst.
“You know so many things about me,” I began, staring into his eyes. I tried not to flinch when his expression began to close, but I did.
“Sparks…” He swallowed hard.
I knew he didn’t want to talk but the more time I spent with him, the more this attraction forced me to wonder, and if I was going to do something about it beyond tonight, I needed to know something. I wouldn’t fall into another relationship that was all about the man and what he wanted. I knew how that story ended, and honestly, I couldn’t survive another heartache like that, and this thing with Josh was dangerously close to becoming more.
“No more secrets,” I said, drawing a line. “Do you fight?”
He nodded slowly. “I do a bit of MMA.” Finally, an answer. A flimsy one but an answer nonetheless.
“Is that how—”
“Sparks,” he interrupted, obviously uncomfortable.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” I argued. “I’m not going to run off to the cops or tell Gunner or anyone. You say something to me and it’s in the vault.” I tapped my head with my index finger, willing him to open up a crack. “Impenetrable.”
“I’ll say,” he mumbled.
“So ask me something,” I said, starting to get really annoyed with his duck and weave tactics.
“Why did you move away from New York?”
He knew it was my sore spot, so I gave him just enough to satisfy his itch. “Because I didn’t want to be there anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d come to hate it,” I said truthfully. “The politics, the pressure to be more than just a surgeon, publishing papers, and having to compete for research funding and awards. It was all bullshit.” I didn’t tell him about my ex shoving his filthy cock into every nurse who’d drop her pants for him. What would that achieve? Everything I’d just said was the truth. One hundred percent.
“Fair enough.” His eyes narrowed, and he took a mouthful of beer.
“Your mum?” I asked, pushing for a little more.
He frowned and glanced away. “She’s dead.”
That’s why he’d bitten back when I’d asked him about her in the hospital. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
I edged closer. “Josh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“See?” he asked, winding his hand around my wrist. “You have things you don’t want to talk about either, so let’s just leave it at that.”
“But—”
“I know there’s more to your story than you’re letting on, Sparks.”
“And you don’t care?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. Shit, was he that good, or was I that bad at hiding my stupid heartache?
“I care enough to respect your boundaries.”
I scowled, anger trying to override the searing attraction that ran up my arm at Josh’s touch. “So I’m a hypocrite?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“Definitely gave you the right nickname,” he murmured. “Sparks.”
My breathing hitched as heat blazed in his eyes, and I felt a tremor run through my arm and along my spine.
“You feel it too, right?” he asked, his gaze dropping to my lips.
“What?” I whispered, transfixed.
His fingers tightened around my wrist, and he tugged me forward, making me fall against his chest. I was a lost cause. he moment his lips touched mine, I felt my control slip…and then it was gone. Pressing forward, I wound my arms around his neck, opening up to him while my fingers tangled in his hair and tugged.
Just as abruptly as it had begun, I pulled away and rose to my feet, panic beginning to override sense. My chest heaved as my heart beat at full throttle. A guy like that, like Josh… Why did he want me?
“Sparks.”
He stood behind me, his chest pressing against my back, and I closed my eyes. It was now or never. If I let my fear of being broken again push him away, then he’d never come back. Guys like him didn’t want baggage. He had enough of his own to deal with to take mine on, as well.
Turning, I swallowed hard, my eyes closed tightly. His hand cupped my cheek as his thumb stroked across my lips, forcing them to part. As if he could sense my fear, he took control and kissed me again. Softly at first, then harder as I allowed myself t
o give in completely.
We stumbled across the room, crashing against the couch and smashing against boxes until my back hit the wall with a thud. Josh’s hand ran down to my waist and found its way down the back of my jeans, his fingers pressing underneath my knickers and into my skin. He grunted in frustration as his cast knocked against the wall, his lips never leaving mine.
His teeth dragged against my skin as his body melded into mine, his crotch hardening against my belly.
“Sparks,” he muttered against my lips. “You taste better than I imagined.”
“I do?” I asked breathlessly. He moved his mouth from mine and began licking a trail along my neck as his left hand dug into my ass cheek.
He mumbled something incomprehensible against my skin as I ran my hands up his chest. I pushed him away gently, not really understanding what I was doing. I’d flipped my switch to autopilot.
His brow furrowed in frustration as he took a step back, but he didn’t need to worry at all.
Curling my hands into the hem of my top, I pulled it up and over my head before letting it fall to the floor. Josh’s gaze fell to the lacy black and red bra I wore, the one I’d picked out at the shops that afternoon just in case, and he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth.
My skin crawled as his gaze followed my hands down across my stomach to where I unfastened the button on my jeans. Lowering the zipper, I leaned back against the wall, my entire body trembling with sensation. He wasn’t even touching me yet.
“Sparks,” he moaned, desperate to move forward again.
Unfastening the clasp on the back of my bra, I fixed my gaze on his. “You can finish this off…if you want.”
He lifted his hands and slid the straps from my shoulders, exposing my chest. His gaze dropped as his breathing began to quicken. Reaching for the buttons on his shirt, I undid them one by one as his palm came to rest on one breast, then the other, teasing and massaging as I practically tore the material from his back.
Shoving my jeans and knickers down, I fumbled with his zipper, freeing his erection…and what an erection it was. I went to take him in my hand, but he pushed me away gently—just as I had him.
