Their fingers touched, and they paused. His were long and tapered and reminded her of those of an artist.
“Do you paint?” she asked, her voice a little breathless.
His irises were flecked with gold. They appeared to glow as he stared at her. She licked her lips, suddenly dry. His gaze shifted with her movement.
“No.” He moved closer, until the only thing preventing them from touching was the gold bowling ball bridging the space between their ribcages. “I used to play guitar though.”
Her stomach dropped as she imagined how those fingers would strum across her body. Her breasts tingled. She felt a distinct lack of air. She pulled away and gulped a deep breath. “I think it’s my turn.”
She’d never thought of herself as a coward, yet, as she focused on her game, she thought she might have to change her opinion. She could fall for him. His wit and charm during dinner and their brief walk afterward crept past her defenses. His sexiness was undeniable. His intelligence self-evident. Oh yes, she was a coward. Because, despite all his admirable qualities, Jacob was pursuing a life she didn’t want. One she couldn’t go through again. Therefore, Jacob was dangerous.
****
If he were the kind of man who only judged women by their physical traits, bowling was a genius move because it gave him the perfect opportunity to observe her butt. He wasn’t. He liked Aviva for more than her looks. He liked her laugh, her forthrightness, her sense of humor. Indeed, those qualities were what stuck in his brain and lasted when he couldn’t be sure he remembered her name. They made him enjoy her company and opened him to the idea of spending more time with her.
He had to admit, though, as she paced toward the lane, held the ball, bent and aimed, she had a terrific ass. Not too big, not too small and it filled out her leggings nicely. She swayed back and forth as she moved, tantalizing him. Once the ball knocked down six pins, she turned back toward him.
She had nice breasts too. The blue—or was it green—top hugged her chest enough to give it definition and hint at cleavage. He’d stared at that cleavage surreptitiously enough during dinner. He wasn’t a pervert, drooling over lady parts. He was a man who appreciated a sexy woman. And she was sexy in an understated, classy way.
Their funny texts during the week hinted at a cutesy girly-girl, yet the woman he’d dined with and with whom he was trying to beat in a good-natured competition was also intelligent and perceptive. He was relieved. He’d thought her texts and photos were funny. He’d given as good as he got, but it was one thing to joke about something and another thing to live it. High maintenance, ultra-girly females weren’t his type.
Aviva? Well, she might be. He could easily see himself falling for her, having a relationship with her. It was a problem because he didn’t have time for a relationship. Could he find the time for her in between all his studying? Would a relationship with her jeopardize his grades?
“You’re up.”
He jumped off the white plastic chair, unaware how lost he’d been in his thoughts. “Sorry.” He checked the scoreboard. “You’re beating me.”
She smiled.
Was it his imagination, or did she stand a little straighter, preen a tiny bit? Definitely not a girly-girl. In her heels, she’d only come up to his chin; now, in the ugly bowling shoes, she barely reached his shoulder. Her eyes twinkled. With her short hair, she resembled a pixie. He was tempted to search for fairy wings.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“I’m not sure my manliness can handle this.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She lowered her gaze from his face, down his body to his feet, and up again. “I think your ‘manliness’ will survive. Flourish, even.”
Jacob’s neck heated. He shifted from one foot to the other at her unexpected perusal. He reached for the bowling ball.
When he turned to her again, she was smiling.
Two could play this game.
“Oh, yes, I’ll flourish.” Standing next to the ball return, he raked his gaze from the top of her short-cropped, pixie haircut, down to her chest, where he lingered for a moment. He continued past her waist and hips, down her legs to the tips of her ugly bowling shoes. When he finally returned to meet her face, it was bright red, almost matching the neon sign pointing to the snack bar behind her head. He leaned toward her, his bowling ball between them.
Her breath brushed his chin, warm and unsteady. A lock of hair fell across her forehead. He pushed it in place with one finger, one finger that drew across her smooth skin and traced her fine-boned skull. She bit her lip. He pulled away, millimeter by millimeter, though he wanted to do more.
“But first, I’ll win.” He winked, walked toward the foul line, adjusted his stance, took a few strides, swung his arm, and let the ball go. It spun down the lane. At the last moment, it veered into the gutter. Jacob’s jaw dropped. He shook his head, turned, and stopped short.
Aviva tapped her fingers on the table. “Interesting strategy you’ve got there.” Her eyes sparkled. Her tone told him she wasn’t being mean.
He’d liked her sense of humor before; he couldn’t decide to not like it when she was teasing him.
He nodded in acknowledgment, turned and swung the ball. It knocked down seven pins.
Aviva grabbed her ball, patted his arm, and aimed at the pins. Strike. She didn’t move. Jacob couldn’t figure out why she stood still, until her shoulders began to shake.
She was laughing. At him.
She turned around. Tears ran down her face. She inhaled. “I’m sorry. I swear I have no idea how it happened.”
“Sure you don’t.” As his grin widened, he bit the insides of his cheeks, folded his arms and did his best to look sad. “What a way to get a guy when he’s down.”
“You’re not down. You just challenged the bowling gods. They don’t like human challengers.”
“Bowling gods?”
“Of course. How else do you think we recreational bowlers manage it?” She stepped toward him. Her green eyes were wide with fake innocence.
“Bowling gods.”
“Exactly. You challenged them.” At this point, they were toe-to-toe. Her floral scent wafted around him. He refocused on her words.
“As you like to say, Aviva, technically, I challenged you.”
“Yes, but with bowling skill, so you actually challenged them too.”
She looked supremely satisfied with her circuitous bowling logic. Jacob had an urge to kiss her. Her lips were full and pink and tantalizingly close. He rested one hand on her waist and clasped the other hand behind her neck. She rose on tiptoe. This close, the brown flecks in her eyes shone. Her pupils widened. He tilted his head, leaned down and softly kissed her lips.
She sighed and ran her hands up and down his biceps. Her touch made his skin tingle.
With a groan, he pulled her tighter, kissed her deeper. She tasted sweet. He was hungry for more. But they were in a bowling alley. Distractions he’d blocked out, as he focused on her lips, returned—voices around them, the aroma of fried foods coming from the snack bar, blinking lights—and reminded him how public this place was, so he pulled away.
“Looks like we’re challenging each other,” he whispered.
****
Aviva lay in bed that night unable to fall asleep. Her nerve endings were on fire, her body hyperaware of everything against her skin—her pjs, her sheets, her hair. Scenes from her date played out in image after image, as if she projected the event on the ceiling. Closing her eyes only allowed her to focus more on them, added the sounds and smells from the evening—the waxy aroma of the bowling alley, his spicy aftershave, the deep timbre of his voice. Her heartbeat increased. Heat pooled low in her belly as she remembered their kiss.
If his kiss was any indication, this man epitomized sex on a stick. Sex in a bottle, sex on the floor, sex of any and all kinds. He made her want to do things she’d never wanted to do before.
Desire was dangerous. Because his dreams were nothing like hers. Her stomach clenched
. She remembered her father, or rather, his absence—from birthday parties, dinners, school events. She couldn’t relive that.
Her body, however, was a traitor. It wouldn’t let her forget how it felt to be in his arms or against his lips. It protested never seeing him again.
When they’d finished bowling, he brought her home and stood outside the door with her. “I had a great time with you, Aviva, even if you did beat me.”
“Yeah, that was an unexpected surprise. A nice one, though.”
He leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back, tasting, exploring, pushing for more. When they pulled apart, they were breathless. She held onto him for a moment until her legs no longer felt like jelly.
“Would you like to do it again sometime?”
She pulled her head back.
He stammered. “Uh, I meant go out, not the kiss. Although the kiss was great. We could do that too…”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing at his awkwardness.
He shook his head. “I’m making a mess of this. What I meant was, can I see you again?”
She looked into his brown eyes, swallowed. She should have said no. Should have said she didn’t think it would work out.
“Yes.”
She turned and punched the pillow. She wouldn’t go out with him again.
Chapter Five
Aviva plopped her school bag on the chair next to her in the Rutgers University Dana Library.
“So, how was it?” Hannah asked.
She sank into the chair across from her friend. Before she answered, she took a long drink from a mocha latte. “It was good.”
Hannah stared at her in silence. When Aviva didn’t elaborate, Hannah rolled her blue eyes. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
“What else is there to say?”
“Seriously? Did you seriously just ask that question? For the first time in, like, forever, you went out on a date with a guy who had potential—it wasn’t some obnoxious set-up by your roommates—and all you have to say is ‘it was good’?”
Aviva swirled the latte with the stirrer. The liquid created a vortex in the center, which, for some reason, reminded her of the ball return last night. “Okay, technically, it was more than good. I really like him. We’re definitely attracted to one another. But I’m going to end it.”
“Why?”
“He’s a law student.”
“You say law student like they’re dirty words.”
“Han, there’s no point in getting serious with him. He’s going to devote all his time to studying and his job.”
“Did he say that?”
“He didn’t have to.”
“So you didn’t ask him.”
“You mean like, ‘please sir, can you spend some time with me?’ No, I didn’t ask.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Have you talked about his career plans?”
“He wants to work for a large firm.”
“Lots of law students take large firm jobs to pay off student loans. Did he talk at all about his study habits?”
Actually, he had talked about paying off law school loans. “He studies all the time.”
“Yet he called you anyway, right?”
“Yeah, when he said he would.”
“So maybe you’re jumping to conclusions about him.”
Aviva stirred her coffee again. She watched the liquid spin. “Maybe.”
“Did you have fun last night?”
She couldn’t hold back a smile. “Yeah.”
“So, don’t write him off yet.”
Aviva’s phone beeped. “It’s him.” She read the text.
“You’re smiling.”
“He wanted me to know he had a good time, even if I did beat him.” She texted him back.
“You didn’t just break up with him, did you?”
“Well, technically, we’re not dating.”
“Aviva!”
She laughed. “No, I didn’t. I told him I had fun too, and I liked winning.”
Hannah shook her head. “You really have no clue how to do this, do you?”
“I won’t throw a game just because my opponent is a guy. If he can’t handle it, that’s his problem, not mine.” She looked at her phone. “He texted again. He has to study but he’ll talk to me later.”
“Good, now see what happens.”
Aviva’s skepticism must have shown on her face, because Hannah reached for her hand. “Not everyone is like your dad.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be prepared.”
“All right, just give him a chance. Now, speaking of prepared, we need to write this assignment.”
As they pulled out their books, Aviva thought of Jacob. He said he’d talk to her later. She didn’t know when later was, but she wouldn’t wait around. Experience had shown her not to expect much.
****
Jacob stared at the page in his law book without seeing words for the fourth time that day. He rubbed his face, took a drink of coffee, and remembered dinner with Aviva—how her lips sipped from her glass. He cleared his throat, adjusted the alignment of his book and his computer, lined up his highlighters. With a deep breath, he read the chapter.
This time, he made it through three paragraphs before he forgot what he read and his mind drifted to Aviva’s text. She liked beating him. It had made him smile, but his smile wouldn’t last long if he failed this class. He stretched and looked around the library. Everyone else’s heads were buried in their books.
This was why he didn’t have time for a relationship. No matter how physically attracted he might be, he shouldn’t see her again. There wasn’t enough time in his life right now. Wrong place, wrong time. With a shake of his head, he forced himself to concentrate.
Three hours later, when it should have only taken two on the outside, he finished his assignment. He packed his things and headed to a sandwich place on the corner for lunch. All around him, couples sat at tables, held hands. How did they do it?
Picking up his sandwich, he munched while staring blindly at the wall. Aviva was already a distraction, and they weren’t officially in a relationship. He paused. If that was true, maybe he just needed a little more time to get her out of his system. Not a full-blown relationship, but another date. Or two. Could he do it? Was Aviva worth it? There was something about her that he couldn’t get out of his mind. Maybe seeing her again would allow him to refocus on his studies. He still had fifteen minutes before he had to go back to studying. He dialed Aviva’s number, waited while it rang. At the sound of her voice, he started, but realized it was her voice mail.
“Hi, Aviva, it’s Jacob. Just taking a break from studying. I’ll try to catch you later.”
Well, since he hadn’t been able to talk to her, he might as well go back to the library. As he finished his sandwich, his roommate, Adam, approached. “How’s the studying going?”
“It’s a little slow.”
Adam plunked down at the table across from him. “Is she hot?”
Jacob snorted. “Why do you always assume it’s a girl?”
“Isn’t it?”
Jacob pulled his collar away from his neck. “Well, yeah.” He told him about his date.
“So you just saw her last night, and you’ve already texted and called her?”
Hearing his friend describe his actions made him wince. “Yeah, I may have overdone it.”
“You think? What about the three-day rule?”
Jacob snorted. “Rules are stupid, especially the arbitrary ones. I don’t see why I can’t let someone know right away if I had a good time. I don’t like games.”
“You may not like them, but they’re there to keep you from sounding desperate. You have to project the right image. Has she responded?”
“She answered my text this morning, said she had fun beating me at bowling.”
“I don’t suppose you let her win?”
Jacob rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, not exactly.”
Adam shook h
is head. “So, not only are you talking to her too soon, but you lost to her in a game. You sure she’s into you?”
“Yeah.” Of course she was. She’d texted she’d had fun. She was the one who said she liked beating him.
Adam shrugged, popped in his earbuds and headed out the door. Jacob stared at the far wall and replayed last night’s date in his head. Had he imagined how much she liked him? She’d seemed to enjoy herself. Except, at dinner, she’d looked…uncomfortable. When they talked about the type of law he wanted to practice, she’d suddenly grown quiet. He’d asked what was wrong, but she denied anything bothered her. He was attracted to her. He thought she felt the same way. Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about making time for her after all.
A clap on his back made him jump.
“Hey, Jake.” It was his classmate, Lori.
“Hey. Join me?”
She sat and opened her sandwich. “Hold on.” She answered a text. “Sorry, boyfriend. Ugh, he’s driving me crazy.”
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?” she asked.
“You’re the top student in our year, you’re editor of Law Review and you have a boyfriend. Plus a part-time job. How do you make time for all of it?”
She laughed. “It doesn’t always work, and right now, honestly, it’s not. A lot of it is balancing things and focusing on priorities. Studying is my priority. My boyfriend is second. Sometimes that causes conflicts. But I work ahead and make the most of my time. I’m determined. Why?”
“I met this girl…”
“Ah, that explains your distraction the other day.”
“Really? I could have been distracted about a million other things.”
“You? You’re never distracted. Look, a relationship takes practice, but don’t miss out on someone because of books. Set a routine, keep to a schedule, put her on your calendar just as you would any other assignment.” She looked at her watch. “Sorry, gotta run. Good luck!”
He stared at the space she’d vacated. Relationships were distracting. He knew that. Lori only managed hers by removing all spontaneity. He didn’t want to “schedule” a date with Aviva like he scheduled study groups. But if he didn’t, he couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to see her, and she’d turn into a distraction. He couldn’t afford a distraction.
Five Minutes to Love Page 4
