Drew was meant for racing.
Being at a meeting that could literally change his career just seemed natural. It felt right.
Still, I’d said no.
I’d used the frat as an excuse. Even as I said the words, something inside me revolted. Something was angry with me for pushing something like this with him away.
He was disappointed. Seeing that had been like a knife in my chest. I never wanted to be the person in his life that left him feeling let down. Best friends were supposed to be better than that.
It was hard to be Drew’s best friend.
When I felt so much more.
It was equal parts pleasure and torture to be with him. As much as I wanted to pull him close, I urged to push him away.
I had to be a masochist.
In the end, I always chose the torture. The torture of sitting close to him and swallowing back the emotions bubbling up inside me. The torment of hearing him laugh and feeling it low in my belly. Denying myself every single time I saw his dimple and itched to rub my thumb over the indent to see how deep it really went.
I enjoyed his presence. His scent. The familiarity of his movements and the way he always ate the fries off my plate.
I hated ketchup. But I’d douse my plate in it just to watch him snatch the damn fries off my plate.
I noticed the way the waitress glanced at us tonight. The way her eyes lingered on his hand wrapped around my foot.
It made me uncomfortable because I knew what she must have thought.
Still, I hadn’t been so uncomfortable to pull my foot back, out of his grasp. I don’t think he knew he was doing it really.
I knew.
Oh, I knew.
My heart tripled in rhythm, and my stomach bottomed out the minute his wide, long-fingered hand wrapped around the sole of my shoe.
I liked it. I liked it way more than a best friend should.
When Drew saw the waitress looking, I expected him to react. To pull back in embarrassment or even disgust.
He surprised me. Just like he always did.
He smiled lazily and made a joke.
Like he didn’t even care what she thought.
Or maybe Drew just didn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t realize what she was thinking. If he had, it would have been different.
Even though I’d basically committed myself to torment by proximity just by coming with him tonight, I didn’t regret it.
The agony of being near him was sweet compared to that of keeping myself away.
That being said, I breathed a sigh of relief when Drew pulled the Fastback under the wide awning of the hotel. It was a swanky place. A brownstone building illuminated with a ton of lights that made everything look gold.
Thick greenery lined the circular drive and so did old-style street lanterns. At the entrance where he parked, the pavement was brick and led directly to large double glass doors that welcomed guests inside. Beyond them, I saw an indoor water fountain, which was also lit up with golden light.
The second Drew stopped, a valet attendant dressed in a crisp uniform came around to the driver’s side. I knew before he moved what he was going to say.
His hands loosely looped the lower portion of the steering wheel while his blond head leaned back against the headrest. Drew rolled his head to look at me. “You park while I check in?”
I laughed beneath my breath and felt my face crack into a wide smile.
He trusted me with his car.
He didn’t trust anyone with it but me.
“Duh,” I replied.
The heat of his palm radiated through my shirt when he slapped me on the chest before opening the door. “Hey, man.” He spoke to the valet, who was looking at the Mustang like it was a perfectly aged porterhouse steak. “We got this one, but thanks anyway.”
“It would be my pleasure to park your car to make the check-in process as easy as possible,” the man argued.
I chuckled at the way Drew tightened his body and planted his feet, like he was going to have to defend the honor of his precious Fastback. He’d throw a punch if he had to. I’d seen it before.
As amusing as it would be, I didn’t feel like getting in the middle of a fight tonight, and I didn’t feel like searching for another hotel. I got out and jogged around the hood to the valet. “This beauty is like a woman. Testy if you don’t know how to handle her just right,” I said smoothly.
Drew gave me a look, but I ignored him.
“I’ll pull her around and park it.” I pulled out a five-dollar bill and slapped it into the man’s hand before getting into the driver’s seat.
Drew opened up the passenger side, pushed the seat forward, and reached into the back to pull out his duffle and mine.
“You called my car a girl,” he intoned, glowering at me.
“I was thinking we could call her Nancy.” I replied, tongue-in-cheek.
“Shit,” he spat. “If this car was a girl, her name would be Brenda.”
I burst out laughing. “I see you’ve put some thought into this.”
He went back to glowering at me. It only made me smile wider.
“Don’t wreck my car,” Drew ordered and slung a bag over each shoulder.
“Careful with my baggage,” I warned him.
He let go, and it dropped behind him and made a thudding sound on the ground. “Oops.”
“Ass,” I cracked.
He beamed, clearly proud of himself, and shut the door before I could retort. I sat there until he bent over and picked up bag to lazily walk through the glass double doors.
I definitely didn’t notice the way his jeans hugged his ass.
It took me a few minutes to find a place to park the Fastback. I circled a couple times looking for a spot I thought would be good and finally got lucky when a car backed out of a spot right beneath a streetlight.
The entire lot was pretty secure and well lit, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
After I backed into the spot and glanced around to make sure there wasn’t anything lying around that would look enticing to any thieves I locked it up and pocketed the keys on my way inside. I didn’t have far to go because the spot I chose wasn’t only under direct lighting, but was also within sight of the front entrance.
The valet was at the podium when I passed by, so I stopped and faced him. “You work all night?”
He nodded. “Night shift.”
This was the first hotel I’d been to that had valets that worked twenty-four hours. “Sweet,” I said and pulled out forty bucks to slide across the top of the podium. “You mind keeping an extra eye on the Mustang over there?”
He glanced at it briefly before turning back to me. “Of course.”
“Thanks. It’s a beauty. Sometimes draws attention.”
He nodded like he understood. Maybe he did. I didn’t care. I just wanted to make sure Drew’s car wasn’t touched tonight.
“Thanks.” I clapped him on the back and started away.
“Don’t worry. Your boyfriend’s car will be just fine,” he called after me.
I stopped walking.
Boyfriend.
He thought Drew and I were together.
My stomach turned over and a warm, intense feeling gripped my chest. It felt a lot like possessiveness.
I began to turn around, to set the guy straight. Let him know he was wrong.
I wonder what he saw that made him think we’re together?
Probably the same thing the waitress saw earlier.
In a snap decision, I continued forward. Correcting his error no longer seemed that important. In fact, if I were totally honest with myself (for once), I liked the fact he thought we were together.
The knowledge I liked it made me very confused.
Probably not for the reasons you might think, though. I wasn’t confused as to why I felt that way. I suspected I was confused because I didn’t know what to do with the feelings. I had no idea how to act.
So I did what I always did. I
stuffed them down. I fought them back.
I was really good at it.
I was also really tired.
Drew was sitting on the edge of the fountain when I stepped into the reception area. The hotel was amazing, as I knew it would be. Everything was almost austere. Despite being a place where people came and went almost hourly and the traffic of patrons was endless, the place seemed untouched.
The floors were dark hardwood, polished and clean. The walls were all cream, and everything was done in accents of white and muted gold. Not the shiny, gaudy gold, but a matte, contemporary finish.
The fountain was stone, probably travertine, and round. In the center was a large carving of a couple embracing under an umbrella. The water came out of the top, falling in a way that looked like rain.
“Find a spot okay?” Drew asked, standing up.
“Dude, you worry more than a mother with a newborn.”
He just stared at me, waiting for a reply.
I sighed dramatically. “Of course I did.”
“Room’s this way,” he said and led me to a bank of elevators.
The room was on the fifth floor, but the elevator was smooth as butter, and we slid to a stop quickly. The hallway was silent when we stepped in and walked past pristine white doors with gold numbers in the center.
Drew stopped not too far down and slid the key into the lock. It made an unlocking sound, and he turned the handle. Before going in, though, he glanced at me over his shoulder. “This was the only room they had left.”
“I’m sure it’s a hell of a lot nicer than the box I sleep in every night.”
He shoved open the door and we walked in. As we went, I wondered why he seemed a little awkward and felt the need to explain the room.
The sound of his bag hitting the floor followed by the distinct clicking of a light revealed the sitting room. The walls in here were light, just like the rest of the hotel, and the dark hardwood also. On the far wall was a large sofa and soft-looking gray rug with a coffee table in the center. There was also a wood table that could seat four and a big flat-screen on the wall.
Past the sofa was a wet bar with a fridge and sink, which led into a wide doorway I assumed was the bedroom. Drew kept going, so I followed along as he clicked on a few more lights. The second my feet crossed over the threshold in the bedroom, I understood his explanation of the room.
There was only one bed.
My mouth ran dry when I stared at the huge king-size giant piled with all-white bedding and pillows. All the white and fluff made it look like a cloud.
I kinda wondered if I’d sink into it if I lay down, and then I had an image cross behind my eyes that made me squeeze them shut.
“I didn’t know there’d be a sofa,” Drew said, and I reopened my eyes as he came out of the bathroom attached to the bedroom. He left the light on, and it shone across the floor. “That’s good. I’ll take it.”
On his way past, I caught his arm. “I’ll take it.”
“What? No.” He made a face.
“This is your meeting. Your room.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, and you’re bigger than me. I’ll be more comfortable on the couch.”
“I’m not that much bigger,” I grumbled as he shook loose and walked out.
“Thank you, Drew,” he called.
I gave him the finger even though he wasn’t in the room to see it.
“I saw that!” he hollered.
“You should get your eyes checked,” I yelled back and dumped my bag on the floor and looked back at the bed.
He said he didn’t know there was a couch, but he’d clearly known there was only one bed. What was he thinking before we walked in here? The awkward way he’d glanced back at me… it wasn’t the way a best friend looked at the other.
It was…
It was the way a girl looked at me when she was feeling something but didn’t know if I was, too.
My stomach fluttered.
I ignored it.
Well. I tried.
What would he have done if there was no couch? Offer to take the floor? Call for a rollaway bed?
Or would he suggest we just share the bed?
I won’t tell. Words from the night I was so drunk and stayed in his room whispered through my mind.
I fell face first onto the mattress. My body sank in, and I let my face be smothered by the blankets. I hoped maybe it would also smother my thoughts.
The sound of the TV in the other room filtered in, but I still didn’t move. A few minutes later, Drew’s voice came from right beside me.
“Mind if I take a shower before I pass out?”
I lifted my head. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just jeans, which were already unbuttoned at the waist. The band of his boxers was visible because the pants were hanging low on his hips.
They were black Calvin Kleins.
He had good taste in underwear.
I forced my eyes up to his face, taking in his long, defined torso. True, he wasn’t as big as me, but he was muscular. Drew had a lean, strong build, and his shoulders were wide. His chest was smooth and hairless, and his nipples were a distraction for the eye.
“Sure, man, go ahead.”
“You need in first?” he asked.
I cleared my throat. “No, I’m good.”
He shut himself in the bathroom, and a few seconds later, I heard the shower turn on. I lay on the bed, listening to the sound of the water and Drew moving around in the bathroom.
My skin started to feel warm and my shirt felt restrictive. With a curse, I got up and kicked off my shoes and yanked the fleece over my head. The T-shirt I wore came with it, and I didn’t bother to put it back on. The air felt good against my suddenly flushed skin.
I went out to the mini bar and looked around. It was fully stocked. I didn’t take anything out, though. That shit was overpriced. Instead, I poured some tap water in a glass and dropped on the sofa to watch the sports channel Drew had on.
I was staring at the TV, trying to pay attention to what the announcers were talking about, when Drew walked in.
The scent of soap tingled my nose, and I glanced over. His chest was still on display, and there was a white towel wrapped around his waist. Droplets of water clung to the ends of his hair, and when he turned to riffle through his duffle, there was more water on his lower back.
I picked up my glass and took a sip. Suddenly, I was parched.
“Room’s all yours,” he said.
“Sure you don’t want the bed?” I asked.
Still turned away, he pulled on a pair of gym shorts and slid them up under the towel. I glanced away, and I heard the movement of fabric. Seconds later, he dropped down on the end of the sofa, in nothing but the shorts.
He wasn’t wearing underwear.
“I’m good. I’ll just snag a pillow off the bed and call downstairs for some blankets.”
I got up, picked up the phone by the wet bar, and called down for the blankets. Since I was getting the bed, it was the least I could do. I grabbed a pillow off the bed. When I came back, Drew was at the wet bar with a glass of water in his hand.
I stopped in the doorway, unable to not look at him.
I liked the way he looked.
There. I said it.
I really fucking did. Just admitting it to myself seemed to make me feel lighter. As if carrying around the burden of trying not to admit I found him visually appealing weighed me down.
I wondered how much lighter I would feel if I admitted some of the other things I tried to hide.
Drew lowered the glass. It made a low thump on the stone countertop. He turned his head so our eyes met.
Have I mentioned how blue his are? The color of a sky on a perfect summer day. The kind of day that didn’t come around very often. Perfection rarely does.
Currents of electricity passed between us. It was unmistakable. It was like he knew I was checking him out. He knew and he liked it.
Drew’s body pivoted toward mine. I watched hi
s ab muscles contract with the twist of his torso. One hand rested on the countertop and the other flexed at his side.
Embarrassed I was basically checking him out, I forced my eyes up, only to see his were no longer on mine either.
He was staring at my chest.
I had an insane urge to puff it out. But I didn’t. I held myself back.
Suddenly, I felt itchy all over. My skin was vibrating and tingly.
“T…” he said.
He was the only one that called me that.
There was a knock on the door. Drew stiffened and went to answer. When he was gone, I deflated like a balloon with a giant hole.
I expected him to get an armful of sheets and close the door.
That wasn’t what happened.
Drew’s deep voice spoke and was followed by a light giggle. The kind of giggle that made me roll my eyes.
I hung in the doorway (totally like a creeper) and watched as one of the hotel staff came into the room, carrying a large stack of white bedding.
“I’ll just set it down in here for you,” the woman said. She was likely in her early twenties, with blond hair, a big rack, and green eyes. I would bet money she was wearing colored contacts. No way her eyes were naturally that green.
If they were, then her hair was naturally blond, too.
Ha.
“Thank you,” Drew said, still over by the door.
She turned, giving me a view of her profile. It was enough to see she was totally checking out him and his basic nakedness. It was also very clear she liked what she saw.
“Do you want me to make up the couch for you? It pulls out into a sleeper.”
“I think I can handle it.” He smiled at her. I wanted to kick him. “Besides, I’m sure you have lots of work to do.”
“Actually,” she purred, prowling across the room toward him. “I get off in just a few minutes.”
“Sweet.”
“Maybe you’d like me to come help you make the bed then?” She ran a red-painted nail up his chest.
#Junkie (GearShark #1) Page 7
