“Hey. I’m just here for an excuse to drink and eat junk food on a Wednesday. If I wasn’t doing it next to a cute girl, it’d seem depressing instead of fun.”
“Where is she and how’d you get her in here?”
“What?” he asked.
I swallowed and winced. Joke number one of the night sailed right over his head. “I was trying to say that I wasn’t, well, nevermind.”
He grinned. “I’m just messing with you. I got it. Seriously though, you’re cute. I like the whole artist look you have going on. You really pull it off.”
I tried to think of something self-deprecating and charming to say. My muddled brain forced me to settle for a nervous laugh that sounded more like an asthmatic horse.
He burst out laughing at the sound.
I couldn’t help grinning along like I was in on the joke. “That’s not how I laugh. Normally.”
Ryan's eyes seemed to twinkle as he looked at me and tried to control his laughter. "Well, it should be. I wish I had a recording of that noise. Having a bad day would be impossible. I'd just whip it out and listen to whatever that was on repeat."
“Whenever you’re done teasing me, I was thinking about actually starting a movie. I have six hours of movies to get through tonight and work in the morning for my new boss, so I need to get this show on the road.”
“New boss, huh? What’s he like?”
I made a show of thinking hard. “Well, if he wasn’t an ass who made fun of people for sounds they couldn’t control, he’d be okay.”
“Just okay? It sounds like you need to get to know him better.” Ryan’s eyes seemed to get heavier, and I felt the offer hanging in the air between us. He inched closer to me, and I knew I was seconds away from kissing him. Paris couldn’t have been farther from my mind when I put my hand down on the bed and leaned in.
The intro credits for Scream blared through my apartment, making me jump back from Ryan like I was fifteen and my parents had just walked in on me with a pillow between my legs. No. That never happened. Definitely not even one time after I saw my first Ryan Gosling movie.
“Sorry,” I blurted. “I saw an eyelash on your cheek. I was about to get it and then… yeah.” I swiped my finger across his cheek and acted like I was brushing an eyelash away. “Got it.”
“Right. Thanks. You had something on your lip. I was about to get it.” His grin told me he knew exactly how full of crap I was, and then the way he slowly swiped his thumb across my bottom lip told me I still wasn’t in the clear. “Got it,” he said.
“Thanks.” I stuffed a huge bite of crab rangoon in my mouth and stared at the TV like my life depended on it. I chewed while my lip still felt like it burned hot from where he’d touched it.
My mind wandered for the first half of the movie. I replayed the moment when my hand must’ve pressed play on the remote, and how easy it would’ve been to simply grab the remote, pause the movie, and resume where the two of us left off.
At the same time, I felt pulled in two directions. Part of me obviously wanted something to develop with Ryan, or I wouldn’t have let tonight happen in the first place. Frustratingly, another part of me seemed to be running sabotage duty so I’d make it on my flight in January.
4
Ryan
“What do you mean, ‘nothing happened?’” Stephanie demanded.
I shrugged. “It’s not code. I mean we ate Chinese food on her bed. We watched three old horror movies, and she fell asleep during the last one. I cleaned all the stuff off her bed and I left. What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, woo her? Pour on some charm? Take off your shirt?”
I paused with a ball of dough in my hands and gave her an incredulous look. “Take off my shirt?”
“Yes! Something. You could’ve said it was getting too hot in there, or that you can’t stand getting in bed with your shirt on. The awkward would evaporate as soon as your abs came out.”
“Somehow I don’t think a relationship that begins because of flashing my abs is going to be a very meaningful one.”
She let out a long breath and hopped up to sit on the prep table. “You’re right.” She squeezed her hands into fists and groaned through her teeth. “Ugh! I just want this to happen. What if you screwed it up for us last night? I mean, you’re really good at the whole friend zone thing. And nothing leads to the friend zone faster than a first date turned platonic."
“Messed it up for us? I didn’t realize you were interested in her, too.”
“So you are interested, then?”
“Of course I’m interested. She’s cute, funny, artistic, and she has something about her. It’s hard to put my finger on, but I like it. I feel good around her.”
"So what's the holdup? Seal the deal!"
The hold up was the same as it always was, not that I was about to admit that to Stephanie. I liked Emily. Maybe even a lot. But if my history had taught me one thing, it was the fastest way to screw things up between us was to push past the friendship barrier. I’d still gone against my better judgment and planned to kiss her last night. Resisting her wasn’t going to be like the girls from before. I wasn’t so sure I could rely on my brain to automatically turn off my interest for her.
The real question was whether I actually wanted it to.
“Seal the deal?” I laughed. “Maybe it’s more like a marathon than a sprint. Did you ever consider that? This isn’t some movie where we have to fall in love in the first second of meeting each other. Real relationships take time.”
“Ugh. Don’t real relationships me. I want results. I want fireworks. And I want them now.”
“Noted. You can put that in the suggestion box, if you want.”
She slapped her palm on the black box hanging by the front counter. Dust blossomed upward from her hand. “This one?”
5
Emily
Lilith parked outside Ryan’s building. She gave me a long, suffering look, and then sighed so hard I thought she might pop a lung.
“What?” I laughed.
She looked at me in her typical Lilith way. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Darker expression. If a teenage girl had to listen to an endless loop of dad jokes in her head, they would make the face Lilith always made. If it wasn’t for the faintest sense of almost feline enjoyment she tried very hard to hide, she’d be unbearable. Instead, I actually enjoyed her sour moods.
“If you think I’m going to ask about whatever it is that has you so excited, I’m not,” Lilith said.
“I’m not ‘so excited.’ I’m just grateful to have a little extra work.”
She gave me a dry look. “And that’s why you did your hair all fancy and you smell like unicorn barf?”
“Wait, is that bad?”
“If you’re horny, just own it. Pretending it’s something else makes it gross.”
“Horny? It’s just a job, Lilith. A job I’m happy to have.”
“I’ve seen Ryan. When Hailey handed over the business to him, he used to come by Galleon all the time to meet with William. Even I’ll admit he’s hot. Own it. You’re horny, and you’re hoping he slaps you around with his big, fat cock, assuming he hasn’t already.”
“Lilith!” I laughed. “That’s pretty specific. Are you sure this isn’t your fantasy?”
She slowly slid her eyes over me and smirked in a way that made me uncomfortable. “My fantasy would start in a dark room. The air would be so cold my nipples could cut diamonds. He’d have a whip, and he’d be wearing a mask…”
I held up a hand. “Pretty sure I got the idea. Thanks.”
“Are you going to admit it, or do I have to torture the truth out of you?”
“Admit what?”
She leaned forward, pulled my blouse forward, and looked down at my bra. She started reaching for my pants but I managed to slap her away.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped.
“Proving you dressed for a guy. Lacy black bra, and I bet you wore the panties to match. Admi
t it. Harlot.”
I clamped my mouth shut and pushed the door open. “As much fun as it is getting molested by you and your dead eyes, I’ve got some work to do. And who says harlot anymore?”
She reached forward and pulled at my pants just in time to laugh triumphantly. “A thong! You dirty little—”
“Okay, bye!” I said, slamming the door on her. Seeing Lilith laugh was a relatively rare sight, unless somebody was in pain or getting horribly embarrassed. Unfortunately, I think I was satisfying her on both counts, because I could see her shaking with laughter through the tinted windows of her car.
I waited for my cheeks to stop burning with embarrassment before I headed inside the building.
Ryan’s apartment was on the first floor, just past the grungy lobby. It wasn’t the high-class, fancy kind of place I’d expected a guy like him to live in. He owned several bakeries and dressed well, but I guess even a very wealthy person had to live modestly in the middle of the city. I actually relaxed a little when I saw just how modest the building was. When I thought I’d be walking into some sleek, modern bachelor pad, I’d been worried about how awkward I’d feel.
After all, he'd seen my cramped place already. I thought back on last night and wanted to crawl inside myself and hide under a blanket. Not only had I klutzed my way out of a kiss, but I'd also fallen asleep during The Shining. It wasn’t my fault Ryan smelled so good, or made me feel so cozy and safe. And maybe I’d hardly watched any of the movies because I was too preoccupied with the fact that he was right there next to me, just radiating hotness like a space-heater.
It didn’t help that I had no idea where we stood now. Were we “talking,” “dating,” “on the fast-track to engagement,” or had we already moved to “tried it but it didn’t work”? I stood outside his door and waited until I wasn’t breathing so hard I’d freak him out and raised my knuckles to the door.
I knocked twice and waited. There was a loud thumping sound, a curse, and then a girlish giggle. I felt my expression darken as I stood and stared at the flaking brown paint on the door. When he’d said I could use his apartment to paint, he’d given me a key with instructions: knock twice and wait two minutes. Did he seriously tell me to wait because he wanted time to usher some girl out the window before I came in? Was he seriously trying to kiss me last night and now he’s already fooling around with some harlot? Damn it, Lilith.
My teeth were clenched and my tongue was buzzing with a need to lash out and do some damage—anything to take away the sting of embarrassment I was feeling. But I had to tell myself to relax. I didn’t have any claim over him. I didn’t even have a right to be upset about having to work in his apartment, considering it had been my own problem that I needed a space to work. It was just something I’d have to swallow and deal with. At least it made the whole ‘guys are a bad idea right now’ part of this situation much easier to solve.
I opened the door at exactly two minutes. The first thing I saw was a half-naked woman in red panties with an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was a mess, but she was so pretty she managed to look like the movie version of women who just woke up, and not the version of just woke up I usually pulled: drool dried at the corner of my mouth, puffy eyes, hair like a tumbleweed, and quasi-moto posture.
I manufactured a smile and reached to shake her hand. “I’m just here for work,” I said. I wanted to make sure she knew this wasn’t going to turn into some catty fight over some guy. She could have him.
She raised her eyebrows. “Like… prostitute work?”
“What? No. No. Art. I do artwork.” I straightened my back a little. Technically, I teach senior citizens some art basics at a retirement home three days a week and take any scrap of work I can find in between. She didn’t need to know that, though.
“Oh. Did Steve hire you to paint me naked or something?” she wiggled her eyebrows and twirled her hair. “My right side is my best side, well, unless it’s like, a really high angle. Then I’m actually probably prettiest from the right, but not too far to the right. My nose has this little ridge here—see it?”
“Wait, who’s Steve?”
“Paint her like one of your French girls, Jack,” said a man’s voice I didn’t recognize. I turned to see a shirtless guy with a mess of dirty blond hair leaning in the doorway. He looked like a male model and wore a cocky expression that said he knew it.
"Oh my God. I have the wrong apartment. I'm so sorry." I started back toward the door, hands fumbling for purchase on something—anything. I just wanted out of this situation so I could marinate in the embarrassment for the rest of my life. I knew something wasn’t adding up in my head, but it wasn’t clicking together in the chaos of the moment, like why the key Ryan gave me would work if I had the wrong place, but my brain was moving too fast to stop and figure out the whole picture.
The guy shrugged, crossing his arms. He had an athlete’s build and glowing tan skin. Even though I knew I’d made nothing close to a commitment with Ryan, I felt like I needed to avert my eyes, just for posterity’s sake. If this guy was the golden boy jock who had it all in high school, Ryan was more like the hot guy who inexplicably never ran with the “in” crowd. Even though he did. He had that slight edge factor to him, but he didn’t wear it like a badge of honor. He carried a little cloud of mystery with him, while Steve looked like the type who might only be as deep as his tan.
“Considering Ryan has had a girl over exactly zero times since we’ve lived here, I’m thinking you probably do have the wrong apartment. But it looks like your key works, so…”
“You know Ryan?” I asked the floor.
"I'm his roommate, Steve." The guy walked closer and extended his hand with an easy smile. It was the kind of smile that made most girls do stupid things. For me, it was a little too cocky, too confident. I liked men with at least a touch of humility. Like Ryan.
“I’m Emily.”
The half-naked girl shook my hand next. “Jenna,” She gave me a cheerful smile. “Steve’s going to be an NFL quarterback soon.” She waited with raised brows, like I was supposed to faint or maybe pee my pants.
“I’m kind of badass,” Steve said. He shrugged off his own statement like he somehow thought he was being modest.
“So… where exactly is Ryan? He said I could use his apartment to start working on a project for him, but I’m not seeing where I’d do that.” I scanned the cramped living space. There was hardly room for much more than the couch, TV, and small kitchen, let alone a canvas. I honestly would be better off at my own place if this was the setup, but I guiltily knew I wasn’t going to tell him that.
I turned when I heard loud footsteps from outside, like someone was running. The door swung open and Ryan was standing there, breathless and looking a little startled. “You’re here,” he breathed.
I gave a little shrug. I thought I did a pretty good job of making it look like I wasn’t still feeling weird about last night. “Yep. Looks like you’re the one who’s late this time.”
He frowned at Steve and Jenna. “Did you talk to her?”
Steve held his hands up. “No way, man. We’ve just been glaring at her since she walked in here. Why would we think of talking to her?”
Ryan pulled the front door shut and motioned for me to follow him. “Come on, I made some space in my bedroom.”
“Oh shit,” Steve muttered to Jenna. “I’ve never seen what his game with women is like. Apparently he goes for the shock and awe technique. The Blitzdick tactic. I thought it was a myth. Think he’s going to show her his dick as soon as they close the door?”
“Definitely,” Jenna said.
Ryan stopped just long enough to glower at the two of them. “Seriously? She’s working for me. I don’t even know where you get some of the idiotic things you say.”
Well, I thought. That clears that up. If I had any illusions that he was thinking of me as some kind of budding girlfriend, I guess those ideas might as well hit the road.
Steve made sure we saw him winki
ng and giving us the thumbs up as Ryan led me into the room.
Ryan shook his head. “Sorry about him. The two-minute wait was so I could have hopefully put a blanket over him and whatever girl he had in here before you came in, but it took me longer to get you all this stuff than I thought it would.” He set down a handful of plastic bags that looked full of art supplies. “Honestly, I probably shouldn’t have given you a key, but I wanted you to be able to come work whenever you needed, even if I wasn’t here.”
“It’s okay. He was kind of funny.”
There was a scuffling sound behind me from under the door. I turned and saw a “Magnum XL” condom slide under the door. At the same time, Steve whispered “Blitzcock.”
Ryan kicked it back under the door and gave me an apologetic look “If you just want to leave and pretend you never made the mistake of coming here, I’ll understand.”
“Nope. Sorry. You’re stuck with me.” I thought my words were obvious enough, but the silence that followed seemed to give them a deeper meaning. “Finding work as an artist is too hard to quit,” I added.
“I’d say not when you’re so talented, but I haven’t actually seen you paint yet.”
“Well, if you got everything on the list, that’ll change in a few hours.”
He hoisted the plastic bags from beside his door and dumped them on the bed. I nodded in approval as I looked through most of the supplies, but winced a little at the paints he’d picked up. I picked up one of the bottles. “This is actually oil paint. It’s a nice brand, but I hardly ever paint with it, so…” I said slowly. “I feel like I’m being needy, but I really don’t have the right kind of paper or brushes to use this.”
“Then it sounds like we’re going for another shopping trip. Why don’t you come with me to make sure I get the right stuff this time?”
His Treat Page 5
