Bad Boy Done Wrong

by Kylie Gilmore

His eyes were warm on hers. “It might just be us.”

  The word us hung in the air between them, shimmering like a tiny star of promise. She looked away first, a little off balance at the shifting sands of what she thought was a solid understandable thing. A fling. Temporary. Necessarily shallow so no one got hurt.

  Two different continents.

  She marveled for a moment that their paths had ever crossed at all. Her chest ached to think about missing out on everything he’d shared with her. The way he’d taken her list seriously and brought her such pleasure. She’d always be grateful for that. She grabbed his coffee and took a sip to ease the awful tightness in her throat. He watched her drink but made no comment. She set the mug back in front of him.

  “Do you have a suit?” she asked brightly, eager to move the conversation to a safer topic. “I’ll be wearing a dress. My dad will be in a tux. My mom actually fits into her wedding gown.”

  He sipped his coffee. “I can scrounge one up.”

  “It’s not a problem if you can’t. Just a nice shirt and pants will do.”

  “I won’t embarrass you.”

  “Oh, no. I’d never be embarrassed. You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever been with.”

  He grinned.

  “Not that I’ve been with a lot.”

  He stopped smiling. “Just me and your ex, I remember.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I guess I’m a little worked up about the whole thing. You know, seeing Edward again after all this time. And his fiancée. Apparently she’s young and beautiful.”

  A small smile curved his lips. “So are you.”

  She sucked in air. That was such a sweet thing to say. The second sweet thing this morning. And he was a man of few words, so when he used them, they meant something. “Thank you.”

  He jerked his chin and took another sip of coffee. Something that felt less like lust and more like pure affection built in her. Strong affection like she wanted to hug him. Not to feel him up either. Just to hug.

  He set his mug down and watched her steadily.

  She blurted the first thing that came to mind. “I feel really bad I’ve been taking your bed every night.”

  He shook his head. “Not a problem.”

  “I’ll go home after so you can stay in your bed, where you’ll be more comfortable.”

  He met her eyes with a hard look. “I don’t want you out alone in the middle of the night.”

  She returned his hard look. “And I don’t want you squishing yourself onto a sofa your legs are too long for.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I can’t believe our first fight is us trying to out polite each other.”

  “A fight would imply a relationship.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what this is.”

  “Me either.” She kept telling herself it was a fling, but it was beginning to feel different. The air felt charged, the conversation rife with hidden meaning. Somehow things had shifted this morning when she’d invited him to her parents’ anniversary celebration.

  He brought the coffee mug to his mouth and spoke behind the rim. “Let’s not screw with what’s working.”

  She bit her lip, his casual reply stinging more than it should. “No, of course. You’re right. Just—” she swiped a hand through the air “—leave it alone.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

  He set the mug down. “I mean you said two weeks.”

  “You offered two weeks,” she returned. “I just agreed with it.”

  “What’re we even fighting about?” He stood and stacked the plates. “I’ll sleep in the bed if it makes you happy. Okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “And don’t think you’re leaving alone in the middle of the night either.” He stacked the silverware on top of the plates. “We’ll both sleep in the bed.”

  She tilted her head back to meet his eyes where he stood next to her. “I said fine.”

  “Good,” he growled. Then he leaned down and kissed her breathless. He pulled away, studying her for a moment before grabbing the dishes and heading to the sink.

  She sat there, her head spinning, wondering what the hell just happened.

  Chapter Nine

  Zach sat at the kitchen table with his coffee and watched Carrie rinsing the breakfast dishes, still a little rattled by their spat. He checked her out in her simple dark gray tank top with matching dark gray shorts as she bent to put a plate in the dishwasher. She had the most delicious cleavage, the prettiest ass. She liked to match her clothes, tops and bottoms, even down to her underwear.

  And she’d invited him to meet her parents.

  It didn’t take an anthropologist to know what it meant to take someone to meet your parents. Clearly Carrie wanted to take what they had to relationship level. Now that the pressure was off with Carrie occupied at the sink, he could analyze the situation. She had feelings for him. He’d hoped, but he hadn’t known until that moment.

  He did some quick calculations of when exactly he’d be in Singapore and when Carrie would graduate from her program and realized that he’d be away two solid years right in the middle of her program, which followed the school year so was actually more like two and a half years. It was too long a separation for where they were at.

  But there were real feelings here on both their parts. That meant something. Right?

  Would it be so bad to give it a try in the few months before he left? Wouldn’t it be better to grab whatever happiness they could now?

  He wanted to try. If it worked out, maybe she’d be willing to postpone grad school for a couple of years and go with him. Whoa. That was a ridiculously big jump ahead. Especially coming from him. What if he ruined it like all his other relationships? What if he truly was too much of a lone wolf to ever pull off the intimacy needed for a successful relationship? If he got her out to Singapore and things fell apart, there was no guarantee she’d have a full tuition teaching assistantship waiting for her back home. Full tuition coverage was always a competitive thing. Limited dollars to go around, everything depending on who you were up against in that particular academic year. Or…he could pass on the Singapore opportunity. No, that would be foolish. He was at the point in his career where the fellowship could give him a significant boost in the world of academia. He might even be able to land a job at NYU or Yale afterwards, close to Carrie. Long-term view, if they had a long-term, definitely pointed to him taking the fellowship.

  She hummed to herself as she worked, and a rare sense of contentment washed over him.

  Maybe if he really thought through the right way to do a relationship, not his usual way of letting things unfold naturally, which somehow always meant falling apart, it could work. Surely his academic background could help him. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? It worked wonders for the initial dance of courtship, why shouldn’t it work for the advanced stages?

  He shifted to anthropologist mode, examining the underlying meaning to Carrie’s invitation. It wasn’t just an invitation to a relationship now that he thought about it. Gaining approval of a chosen mate with family and community was a crucial step to a lasting union. Her request for protection from Edward further signaled she understood Zach was a fit protector. Zach knew his size, deep voice, regular displays of strength lifting Carrie, as well as his natural aggression in the bedroom had made that abundantly clear. His gift of breakfast each morning showed—on a primal level, the most important level—that he was a good provider. The only thing left to prove his value as a mate was a display of physical strength with a rival for her affection. Wrestling would be ideal. He had experience with the best—Ethan, Josh, Jake, and Marcus. Bonus, as a surgeon, Edward would likely be reluctant to use his fists with the risk of damaging his hands.

  He briefly considered bumping his social status to be on par with Edward’s medical degree by telling Carrie about his PhD. Za
ch could also be called “doctor.” But then he thought better of it. After the anniversary celebration, he’d break the news he wasn’t a bad boy, but, in fact, a respected anthropologist. Then he’d tell her how she lit up his world and he wanted to keep seeing her. He’d lay it all out logically, their compatibility, the real feelings they both had, and then he’d make a case for giving them a chance in whatever time they had left. They’d figure out the Singapore thing at a later date. Despite all evidence to the contrary—his disastrous past relationships and the terrible timing of their respective career plans—he was hopeful.

  Carrie wiped her hands on a paper towel and turned to him. “All set.”

  He stood. “I’ll drive with you to your place and walk home. I’d like to talk to Ally.”

  Her eyes widened. “You would?”

  He understood her surprise. Before the invitation to a relationship, their boundaries were clear. He spent time with her strictly inside his apartment, no dates, no drives home. In any case, it was important he get to know and gain the approval of her closest friends. Her roommate was a key person in Carrie’s friendship web.

  “Yeah,” he said. “We only met briefly before.”

  Carrie smiled uncertainly. “Well, okay, if you want to.” She cocked her head. “Why, exactly?”

  “I’d like to get to know your friends.”

  He went to the living room and retrieved her large purse with multicolored flowers from where she’d dropped it right before she’d leaped into his arms. It was their nightly ritual. The damn thing weighed at least twenty pounds. Probably because she carried shampoo and shit back and forth from her place. He should probably clear some space for her stuff.

  He crossed to her and held up the purse. “This thing is too heavy. You’re going to strain your back.”

  She took it from him. “It’s fine. I’m used to carrying a lot.” She sailed toward the door and he admired the swing of her hips for a moment before catching up to her.

  He slipped on the brown leather sandals he always left by the door. “You can leave some shampoo here or whatever.” He straightened and gazed directly into her eyes. “I’ll make room for your stuff.”

  She stared at him, her brows scrunched together. Good, she was thinking about the deeper meaning. He held open the door for her, locked up, and walked her down the sidewalk, one hand on the small of her back.

  “Zach?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Leaving stuff at your place feels a little different. And you getting to know my friends feels like, I don’t know, something more.”

  He refrained from explaining the symbolism to her, not wanting to show his academic bent.

  She looked up at him. “I thought you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Oh. Me either.”

  “Let’s just see how it goes.”

  “See how it goes,” she echoed. “I don’t know what that means.”

  He faltered because she sounded wary. Normally he’d back off right away, but his old way had never worked out. He went for it. “You know, see how it goes. Like no artificial cutoff. Just see how things pan out.” Idiot. Get to the point. “I really like you.”

  “Oh.” She smiled tightly. “I like you too.”

  This was not going how he’d hoped. They walked to her car in silence. It was already a hot and humid August day, though it was still morning. Reminded him of Indonesia. He missed it even though he’d just been there last month. He was sure Carrie would love it there too, but it was too soon to speak of taking her for a visit, so he remained quiet.

  She unlocked the car. “Zach, I’m not ready for a relationship. I think it would be better if we kept to our two-week one-day agreement. After my parents’ anniversary celebration, we’ll say goodbye. Of course, we’ll still see each other around. As friends.”

  He couldn’t breathe for a moment like she’d just sucker punched him in the heart. How could he have interpreted her intentions so inaccurately? Was Carrie testing him? Putting up a smokescreen to protect herself? Hoping he would stand up and declare himself before she declared herself as invested in what they had?

  “Zach?”

  “What?”

  “Do you understand?”

  “What’s not to understand?” he countered. Playing it cool was his only resort. He couldn’t believe he’d misjudged the situation so badly.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t leave stuff at your place.”

  “You can leave it. Take it with you when you’re done.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “No.” Yeah. He was pissed, but mostly at himself for being arrogant enough to think he could figure relationship stuff out using his intellectual prowess. Years of failed relationships had rightly taught him he wasn’t good at this stuff. For some stupid reason, he’d hoped he could power through using his brain this time. Screw it. He was missing whatever it was that made relationships work. He probably only felt so much for Carrie because deep down he knew she wouldn’t want a relationship. Not because of him, because she just wasn’t ready.

  It wasn’t personal.

  He hoped.

  He wouldn’t ask. That way lay madness.

  He got in and they made the short drive in silence.

  When they got to her door, he waited while she pulled out the key. It took her forever because her purse was so stuffed. “It always seems to be on the bottom,” she said.

  Farther down the hallway, a door popped open. An elderly man in a red silk robe, looking like a Hugh Hefner wannabe, stepped out and gave Carrie a lecherous smile. She didn’t notice, still rummaging through her purse.

  Zach straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders.

  “And who are you?” the man inquired, looking at Zach suspiciously.

  Carrie jumped, her cheeks flushing pink. “Oh, hi, Larry. Didn’t see you there. How’re you?”

  “Fine,” Larry said. “Is this your boyfriend?”

  Zach dropped his voice to the level of back off, old man. “I’m her manfriend.” Boyfriend sounded too juvenile. Partner didn’t go far enough to keep lecherous old men from getting ideas.

  Larry narrowed his eyes. “Carrie is—”

  Zach cut him off. “I know exactly who she is and what she needs.”

  “Zach!” Carrie exclaimed.

  Larry frowned. “Well, no need to be coarse.”

  Zach stared him down.

  “Have a nice day,” Larry mumbled and hustled back into his apartment.

  Carrie looked up at him, incredulous. “What was that about?”

  “Man thing.” He made no apologies for protecting her from the likes of Larry. Or any man that looked at her with lust in their eyes. Caveman behavior? Maybe. But he embraced his inner caveman. She should know that by now. He was all about the primal.

  “He’s really harmless.”

  Zach grunted. He wasn’t so sure about that and wouldn’t leave it to chance.

  “Found it!” She held up her key.

  He kissed her, a swift hard kiss, hoping it wasn’t for the last time. “See ya tonight,” he said gruffly, making sure to show zero emotion. He didn’t want her to know he was worked up that she might not stop by tonight. He especially didn’t like how vulnerable this whole thing had made him. He had to toughen up. Prepare for goodbye.

  “I thought you wanted to talk to Ally?” She pointed toward the door.

  His intention in that regard had him backing up a step. “Another time.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, bye.” She let herself in, not seeming upset in the least while he was damn near howling.

  He trudged home, heart and limbs heavy, the cold slap of reality hitting him once more because he still didn’t know if he’d get to see her tonight.

  ~ ~ ~

  Carrie sensed Zach wasn’t happy with her, and the last thing she wanted was to screw up the remaining time they had together. She had no plans to extend
the time beyond her parents’ anniversary celebration for the simple reason that it would be too easy for one of them, namely her, to get hurt. It wasn’t that Zach wasn’t wonderful. He was everything she’d ever hoped for in a bad-boy lover. It was just the idea of a real relationship, of her heart so far gone that losing him would feel like a piece of her had died, she just wasn’t ready to go there again. And now that she knew they were heading in two very different directions, she knew it was better to end it sooner than later.

  She texted him that night once she was freshly showered in the vanilla body wash he loved and then showed up at his door, planning to pretend everything was normal. Like no awkward conversation had ever happened.

  The door sprang open and Zach gifted her with one of his rare smiles that made his light brown eyes somehow warm and sparkle at the same time.

  His voice was deep and low and tender. “Carrie.”

  “Back up.” Normally he turned and walked inside with no prompting. It was how she had the room to leap into his arms.

  He shut the door behind her and backed up to the middle of the living room, his arms open. She took off, leaping at him. He caught her, but this time his arms wrapped tight around her in a close hug. She couldn’t even kiss him. His hand cupped her head to his chest, his other arm around her back in an unusual quiet embrace. Surrounded by his heat, his familiar spicy scent, his heart beating strong and steady under her ear, she was briefly, utterly content. Then she remembered herself. The limits of what they could have.

  As soon as he loosened his hold on her head, she popped up and peppered him with kisses. His hands shifted to cup her ass, deliciously warm through her thin shorts. She kissed and sucked along his neck enthusiastically, so happy he was welcoming her back to his body. He walked with her in his arms and then her back hit cool wall. Desire spiked through her, soaking her panties, because she knew she was getting a wallbanger. One of his best moves, her feet couldn’t even reach the ground in this position. She was at his mercy and she loved it.

  He lowered his head, but instead of his usual rough kisses, he kissed the corners of her mouth before trailing to her jaw, lingering on her throat and then her collarbone.