Falling for the Playboy

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Falling for the Playboy Page 7

by Scott, S. L.


  “I’d like that too. Sorry about that whole falling asleep thing by the way. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.” I lean forward to hug him.

  His hands grip my waist and he pulls me closer. I feel trapped and noisily gulp. When he leans back, our eyes meet and the awkwardness worsens. Before I have a chance to say anything, he leans forward with that look—a look that says ‘Prepare yourself because I’m going to kiss you.’ I turn away as words fly from my mouth. “So, I’ll see you around, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay, see you around,” he says, but disappointment darkens his tone as he sits back.

  I jump out and move to the sidewalk, watching him drive off then head inside. Sunny is asleep and all the lights are off inside the apartment. I shut the door quietly behind me, but I have the small place memorized, so I keep the lights off finding comfort in the darkness. After brushing my teeth, I slip into a tank top and shorts. I climb between the covers of my makeshift bed on the couch, and lay there looking out the glass door ahead of me.

  The parking lot lamp in the distance is dim and blackness surrounds the building. But a small orange glow and shadowed figure is seen despite the dark. An errant thought flashes in the form of hope filled anticipation as my heart races at the realization, and I bolt upright. The orange glow moves as fast as I do then quicker. I struggle to unlock the sliding glass door, but finally get it open, and run after the spark. “Evan,” I call, hoping my hunch is correct.

  The orange ember at the end of the cigarette gets flicked, and my eyes follow it as it loops through the air and falls to the ground. When my eyes finally adjust to the night, I can tell it’s him as he stops next to the car door. He remains in the safety of the shadows, a shrouded mystery.

  “Evan?” This time I say his name gentler, hoping he can hear. I’m not going to chase him any further and I don’t want to chase him away.

  I stand there waiting for any response he’s willing to give, but none comes.

  Under the soft glow of the tall lamp in the distance, he shifts, his body appearing to fight an internal battle.

  My heart pounds in my ears waiting for anything. I deserve an explanation. I deserve answers to his behavior. “Fuck.” I deserve something more than silence in the middle of the night.

  His resigned body comes closer, his face not visible under the cloud covered night. Stopping one short foot in front of me, his features are seen, the emotion on his face clear. He’s not angry Evan, or bewildered, or even Mr. Smooth Evan. He’s vulnerable and open as his expression pleads with me to make the connection. With caution, he takes my face in his hands, his eyes seeking the permission his lips won’t ask.

  I feel a lump in my throat as confusion sets in. He can’t regret how he acted. He chose that path, not me. Nothing makes sense with him, nothing except his lips on mine, willing my mind to settle and my heart to calm. This is right. This kiss makes sense.

  His lips aren’t hurried or panicked. He’s sharing this moment with me, taking his time to enjoy the rewards of his patient waiting. My hands are drawn to him and ghost up his chest and around his neck, my fingers locking together. His hands find my middle and pull me closer. My body moves, knowing exactly where it wants to be. My mind has no say in this because logic is overruled by need. I need to be with him and he needs to be with me.

  When our lips part, he looks, analyzing me. His eyes search my face then land back on mine. I don’t know Evan well enough to judge his moods by only his expressions, but I know he’s resisting something already set in motion. “You didn’t kiss him. Why didn’t you kiss him?” he asks. His breath is warm and tinged with cigarettes and peppermint.

  “I didn’t want to.” I don’t feel the need to say more. I didn’t want to kiss Noah, but can’t admit to Evan that it’s because he was on my mind at the time.

  He slides a hand down my arm gently taking my hand in his and leads me toward the open glass door. I willingly follow him. I would probably follow him anywhere right now. My mind is weak and my body is strong when we’re together. We make no sense, but right now we are the only logical conclusion that exists in a world of problems.

  Leading me to the couch, we sit, the silence starting to weigh on my heart. Evan strokes my cheek acting as if it is meaningless, but I know his gentle touches give him away. He may be a bastard, but he’s not heartless.

  He leans toward my exposed neck, tasting just the edge of my earlobe before slowly pushing me back onto the couch. I kiss him, feeling relaxed, knowing this is right as my traitorous heart opens up to the one person who battered it without care just two days ago.

  Our kisses become eager, our tongues mingling together and are bodies anxious for more. His hands slide to the hem of his shirt and he pulls it off while giving me a look I would normally view as lust, but it’s different somehow. This is him caring. Standing up, he takes his jeans off, confident in our silent agreement. He drops something on the coffee table then pulls me to my feet.

  I mimic his actions, leaving me equally exposed and vulnerable. After sliding my panties off to up the ante, I lay down on the couch under the covers. Without losing eye contact, he slides his briefs down his legs and joins me under the covers. “I want you, Mallory.” His breathing deepens as he hovers over me.

  My breath staggers, my heart finding instant relief from hearing his voice again. It’s smooth and strong and has an authoritativeness to it. He makes me want to obey though he didn’t give any orders. I lie back and get to the point. “Take me then.”

  His hand moves between my legs and my head pushes back into the pillow, enjoying the way he touches me, the way his touch owns my body. A finger swirls, making me moan then disappears. He reaches to the table, and then I see the condom in his hand, the wrapper being ripped open. Turning to the side, he rolls it on then repositions himself above me. The couch is small and uncomfortable, but perfect for us to reconnect.

  As he kisses me, his hand appreciates my breasts. I squirm beneath him, my body responsive to this pleasant torture. He smirks knowing the sexual devastation he’s delivering as he eases into me.

  Not able to control my reaction, I moan again, louder this time. His hand covers my mouth, and he whispers, “Shhhh.” It’s a reminder of my best friend who is sleeping in the next room. He tilts my head back and takes the opportunity to kiss my neck, working me with his tongue and caressing lips. I feel his stubble against my skin, scratching me, marking me as his even if only temporarily. Shifting to put his weight onto his arms, he raises his body higher to look at where we’re joined as I enjoy the wonderful ease of his movements.

  “God, Mallory.” His own moan is low and anguished and so breathtakingly beautiful.

  My hips move to meet his. I lean up to see where our bodies are joined, but it’s too much. The feelings overwhelming me, so I drop back down.

  “I’m sorry. I won’t last,” he says, the words not matching the plea in his tone.

  Why is he apologizing? Aren’t we achieving the purpose of the act? Isn’t this the reason we’re doing this—to orgasm? Oh! Sudden realization strikes. I guess we won’t be and that’s what the apology is for, but for some reason, that just doesn’t matter. He feels too good to worry about such details.

  His hand lowers to my sex and I can tell he’s holding himself back to try to please me. I tug his hand away, causing him to look up then shake my head.

  He’s not a selfish lover. He’s proven that to me before. I’ll take that he’s so turned on that he’ll peak faster than he likes as a compliment and a huge boost for my ego. So I’ll trade my orgasm for one ego boost this round knowing, maybe just hoping, that he’ll return the favor soon enough.

  Kissing me, he starts moving slowly again, over and over in rapid succession. Another moan escapes me, this time in a lowered voice, remembering we might get caught, but somehow the thought turns me on even more. I grab his shoulders and raise my legs up higher with him centered between them. Watching the glory that is his face, his expression shows he’s d
esperately trying to hold on and failing as he succumbs to his desire. He drops his head into the nook of my neck, and groans. “Holy fuck, Mallory! You’re so—” He interrupts himself with a deep breath.

  His body drops down on top of me. He’s sated and heavy, but I love the weight on me and try to pretend it matches a depth of emotions he has for me.

  All too soon, my mind flips and I go from contented to confused in the span of a second. Rolling onto my side, he holds me against him. The sex with him is incredible even when I don’t orgasm. But it’s the after that I dread and we are now firmly lying in the after. I gulp and it’s too loud and embarrassing in the quiet room. He strokes my hair away from my face and gathers me closer against his chest. I have to give him credit. He’s trying and as the minutes tick by my heart starts to heal, to trust him again, little by little.

  The warmth of his body must have soothed me because I don’t remember falling asleep until the sounds of cars starting outside mixed with the light of day awaken me. Smiling, I roll over. What my brain fails to realize, my heart already knows and mourns the loss. Evan is gone. I’m not surprised, but I am hurt.

  10

  Mallory

  Sunny walks out of her room and straight into the kitchen to start the coffee pot. “Good morning,” she says, tired sounding.

  “Morning,” I mumble, sounding about the same.

  She comes into the living room and crosses her arms over her chest. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

  I freeze, knowing she heard us last night.

  “Noah and Evan showing up at Kehones was crazy! I didn’t even know you knew Ashford.” She walks past me and opens the glass door, but when she turns back around something catches her eye, and she stops. “What’s that?” she asks, pointing.

  I look to the coffee table and see a note. My heart melts just a little as I read my name written across it.

  “Um, nothing. I just remembered something I had to do last night and left myself a note.” I hate lying, especially to my best friend, but I’m not ready to share the whole ugly truth with her just yet.

  She accepts the lie and returns to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee.

  I grab the note as soon as she’s out of sight and smile, holding it to my chest. He remembered to leave a note this time and my heart swells with emotions I don’t want to acknowledge quite yet. I snuggle onto my side and flip open the folded paper.

  Mallory,

  Sorry for leaving, but I had to go and you need the rest.

  Evan

  My hope deflates reading the unfeeling words written before me. He apologizes for sneaking out which I guess is a start, but why’d he have to go so early? And when did he become my parent determining how much rest I need. I would have rather lose a few winks and told him goodbye. I would have rather kissed him goodbye. I close my eyes sinking lower into the couch and tucking the note under my leg. I would have preferred that he stayed with me and we started the day together.

  “What are your plans today?” Sunny sits on the other end of the couch near my feet and steals some of the covers.

  “I’m not sure. I might hang out with you at work for a while. I want to go to the beach, too.”

  “You should definitely come by Kehones. You can hang out at the beach up there. We can talk when it’s dead and you get free food and drinks. It’s a win all around.”

  “You’re bribing me with food, drinks, and beach so you’re not bored all day, aren’t you?”

  “Totally. Now promise you’ll come by for a bit.”

  I laugh because although we’ve been working together and have gotten to catch up, it doesn’t feel like we’ve really had the chance to talk since I’ve arrived.

  “How’s your hand today?”

  She holds it up. “I’m still wearing the brace, but the pain is gone unless I carry something heavy. It’s just hard to remember to go easy.” Patting my leg, she asks, “Do you want to talk about Noah and Evan?”

  Looking down at my lap, I catch sight of the edge of the note still tucked away. “I’m not quite sure how to answer that.”

  “How about starting with why Evan was waiting for you last night? I didn’t even see you guys talk yesterday.”

  “We haven’t talked much.” I look at her not wanting to reveal what we’ve done instead of talking. “Sunny, I should have told you the other day, but I didn’t want you to think poorly of me. I, uh … I met Evan at the airport when I arrived.” I can see the confusion written across her face. “When I got your text about going to the hospital, he offered to give me a ride.”

  “You accepted a ride from a total stranger? Oh wait, one of the hottest strangers ever,” she says, amusement in her eyes. “Yeah, I would too.” She smiles, reassuring me. “Mallory, like I said before, I think he gets a bad rap. I don’t know him that well, but he’s always been nice to me and his friends are cool. The only thing I would warn you about is the Noah factor.”

  “Noah’s a factor now?”

  “Kind of. They don’t get along, but Johnny told me they used to be good friends. Something went down and now they hate each other. So be careful. The guys around here tend to get possessive. It’s kind of a you’re either with us or against us deal.”

  I bring my knees into my chest, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. “Sunny?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you date Evan or Noah?” I’m worried about her answer, but want to know what she thinks. She knows these guys better than I do and I trust her opinion.

  “Um, that’s a hard one. You know I give everyone a chance—sometimes to my own detriment, so I’m inclined to say yes. My logical side thinks I would go on a date with both of them, but I’d keep my guard up. My girly irrational side would totally go out with both those hotties too and keep that guard down.” She laughs, flopping dramatically onto the couch cushion. “I’m no use.”

  I laugh, feeling exactly the same way about them both. “Do you prefer one over the other?”

  She chuckles under her breath, and looks me straight in the eyes. “Mallory, Noah has always been a sweetheart to me. He asked me out once—”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  She sits there hesitant in every way though I can tell she wants to say something. Finally, she takes a deep breath, and says, “I haven’t been honest with you. I’ve been crushing on someone for a while now. Others guys just don’t bring out the same feelings that …” She looks down, twisting a loose thread on the blanket around her finger. “… Zach does.”

  “Evan’s friend?”

  She confirms with a shamed nod.

  “Sunny, hey, that’s so great. He’s seems really nice.” Remembering how they looked at each other the night before, I add, “I actually think you two could be good together.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yep, I do.”

  “Thanks.” She stands up, all smiles and happy. Walking to the bedroom, she stops in the doorway. “And about Evan. Just be careful with that one. He’s not known as a lady killer for nothing.”

  When she leaves, I stretch my legs out and think of the lady killer himself. Heart killer is more apropos. I pull the note out and read over it one last time before wadding it up and throwing it away in the kitchen trash. The words on it hold no true feelings for me, so discarding it is easy.

  That afternoon, I ride with Sunny to work. I eat lunch, sunbathe on the beach out back, and visit with all the regulars I now consider friends. Johnny spends his break with me and fills me in on the locals’ histories. I’m too embarrassed to ask about Noah or Evan and feel it’s best not to show too much interest anyway.

  Since Johnny is closing with Sunny, he offers to drive her home. I take her VW and drive back to the apartment late afternoon. After making a sandwich for dinner, I curl up at the scene of last night’s sexual hit and run and watch a movie.

  I doze off before the movie ends, but wake up to the sound of rain and a knock on the sliding glass door. The apartment is dark
except for the TV and bright enough for me to see Evan standing on the other side of the glass, soaking wet.

  I remain still, unsure how I feel about another late night visit. Sighing, I get up and slide the door open, but block him from entering.

  Angling his head, he smiles that cocky half smile that usually works for him. “May I come in, Mallory?” He leans against the door, mere inches from me.

  He’s gorgeous and gleaming in the warm rain. His hair is flattened enough to make me feel sorry that he had to stand out there, but my heart hurts more just looking at him. I stand upright, straightening my shoulders. “No, you can’t come in tonight.”

  His smile falters then returns as his hand touches my arm and runs the length of it, taking my hand in his. He lowers his voice, and leans closer. “Please.”

  That plea goes straight to my knees, and they weaken. I lower my eyes from his not feeling as confident this time when I answer. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’re not a good idea.”

  He stands there in silence, but I sense his gaze on me, weighted with our baggage. The heat between us starts to engulf me. I can’t stay here or he’ll be back inside of me in less than point four seconds. “You should go.” I look beyond him to the outside, attempting to be direct. “Sunny will be home any minute.”

  “Is this about last night? I’m sorry that, I should’ve … You should have gotten off, too. I came back to take care of you.”

  I lift my head up as anger swells inside. “You don’t have to take care of me, Evan. This is not about me, ugh. This is not about having an orgasm or not.” Frustrated, I demand, “I want you to leave!”

  After taking a step back inside the apartment, I pull my hand back, our connection broken, breaking us apart. I slide the door closed, locking it as if somehow that will hurt him like he’s hurt me. He stays, soaking and magnificent, staring at me through the glass. By the time I get the curtain from the far side of the door, he’s gone. The curtain may be somewhat sheer, but I still feel the need to close it. He’s shut out and my stomach turns, making me think I might have actually made the wrong decision.

 

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