by Shey Stahl
“Okay.” I consider what Paul said and everything he’s been telling me. “So you’re not a manwhore.”
“Have you ever seen a girl at my apartment?” I shake my head, because I haven’t. “I haven’t slept with anyone since you.”
“Really?” I draw out. “That’s hard to believe.” I give a little nod to his body.
Tathan chuckles and leans to one side. “It’s the truth.”
You probably know this, but watching him lean is like watching porn. I fan myself. I can’t handle the leaning.
His eyes twinkle when he speaks. “I’ve had two girlfriends in my life and never—up until you—have I ever slept with someone outside of being in a relationship with them.”
Sigh. Just fucking sigh.
“I’m not interested in sleeping around. Sure if I wanted to, it’s available, but I wasn’t raised that way. When I’m with a woman, she’s gonna know that it’s just me and her.”
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I can after this week and everything I’ve been schooled on.
“I want you.” He takes a step closer, and another until he’s backed me up against his door. “Why can’t you give me a chance?”
Nothing comes out. I guess in some ways, I’m not protesting it.
“When I’m with a woman, I’m only with her, and she’s going to know exactly who she belongs to, every single inch of her. I don’t share.”
Panties feel free to melt now.
His stare, so serious and relaxed, searches mine, waiting to see my reaction. I close my eyes, unable to reply, and his hands move to my face.
“Do you believe me now?” He asks so quietly I almost can’t hear it. I hear him swallow, and when he pulls me closer, his heart is pounding in his chest, or maybe it’s mine, but I think it’s both of ours, one drowning out the other, but neither able to determine who’s is beating the loudest.
“Yes.”
I didn’t see Tathan on Friday.
He wasn’t at work, and I knew he had to take Casey’s photos tonight, and I’m kind of jealous I’m not there to watch him work.
Instead, I spend the night in my apartment and watching movies with Oliver.
Saturday, I spend the entire day with Casey and Zane preparing for the wedding, but mostly the bridal shower.
When I finally get back to my apartment, Tathan is unlocking his door, camera bag on his shoulder.
I envision what he must have looked like today while shooting. Those bright eyes taking on that brooding essence they have when he’s concentrating and the way he selectively chooses the angles that give him the images he’s seeking. So sexy.
God, he’s seriously starting to get to me.
By the time I walk over to him, he’s leaning into the wall waiting for me, relaxed and content as he watches me approach. . . unlike me who’s fidgeting with everything from my hair to my dress, to the strap of my purse.
He gives me that adorable smile, eyes twinkling as he looks at the sundress I wore today. “Hey.” His eyes drift south. “I’m disappointed I didn’t see you all day.”
He’s flirting.
“You missed out.” I poke his chest when I get closer.
“Is that so?” His eyebrow arches in question, and then he groans as if this is devastating news to him.
“Yep.” My shoulder presses into the wall as I wait to see what he’s going to do next. It’s like I’m giving him an opportunity here, which I am.
“Hot tub?” he suggests, leaning into my wall, his eyes still wandering.
I groan, giving in. Like he had to ask. “Meet me down there in twenty minutes.”
He winks. “Deal.”
“WHAT HAPPENED WITH you and Colton?”
“How’d you know about Colton?”
“Casey. . . .” He’s amused and takes a drink of his beer. He’s on his third one now, and I’m on my second glass of wine as we sit under the stars. “She gave me your life story yesterday when I was doing the engagement photos.”
She sucks.
“Colton cheated on me with his roommate’s girlfriend after my dad got sick. I caught them in bed of all places doing the nasty, the horizontal mambo, bumpin’ uglies. . . .” Tathan starts laughing at this point, his shoulders shaking. “Boinking. . . banging. . . I could go on for days with this one.”
It’s apparent I spend entirely too much time on Urban Dictionary and have had maybe too many glasses of wine.
He laughs. “Did you kick his ass?”
“I threw a firecracker into the bed with them,” I tell him proudly. “I aimed at the goods, but missed. Either way, he went out with a bang.”
He looks terrified but amused. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
“You were on my bad side. . . but I used office supplies against you instead of fire. I was almost arrested for the firecracker incident too, so I’ve laid off the explosives.”
“For throwing a firecracker?” He can’t help but laugh again, shaking his head.
“I may or may not have set his car on fire too.” I point at him. “No one had any proof!” I decide it’s time to change the conversation to him. “Do you miss your parents?”
His head slumps, and he nods. I instantly feel horrible about asking that. I just blurted it out without thinking.
Nice timing.
Of course, he misses his parents, fuckface! What kind of horrible monster are you to bring this up?
“It doesn’t get any easier. Paul and Elle have been great though.”
“How do your brothers deal with it?”
“Better than me. . . .” His voice trails off into a whisper. “They were older. Maybe it was easier for them.”
“I don’t think it’d be easy for anyone.”
I pay attention to the song playing on his phone and smile.
I love listening to Elvis Presley for many reasons, most of which have to do with my dad. He used to play all his records when I was a kid, so the love was pretty much forced on me. Although I did come to appreciate his songs and the meaning they held.
This one in particular, “Pieces of My Life,” was one of his favorites. I never knew much about my mother, but from what I gathered, her and Dad had some problems. Problems he regretted and weighed heavily on him since there wasn’t anything he could do to fix the situation. She was gone, and once they’re gone, there’s nothing you can do.
“Elvis was amazing, and I was apparently born in the wrong decade,” I note, sinking down in the water.
“I think we both were.” He moves slightly, shifting and reaching for another beer. I take that moment to refill my wine and stare up at the sky full of stars. It’s so peaceful out here and the way the warmth of the night feels on my skin, this feels almost like heaven.
“Were you close with your dad?”
“Yeah.” I smile at the memories of him. “My mom died when I was just three months old. She was hit by a car when she was running one morning.” My voice fades when my gaze drifts and finds Tathan.
He sits back against the concrete, his brow furrowed in what seems like pain. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t remember anything about her. My dad said I looked just like her and the photographs I’ve seen we could be twins.” I shrug. “But my dad raised me all by himself. He never dated anyone that I can remember. It was just us. When I went away to college, I came home every weekend to check on him and then he got sick. It was out of the blue too. Just, hey, I have stage IV lung cancer.”
It takes Tathan a moment before he speaks, deciding on his words. “It’s never easy. Doesn’t matter if you watch them die over months, or it just happens in one day. They’re gone.”
He knows exactly how I feel and I know that right then, I am exactly where I want to be and with who I want to be with at this exact moment.
Tathan just gets me. We have such similar life experiences, well, not the “he’s rich” one, and “I’m not” one. But the love of our family and the tragedies we’ve both suffered ru
n so parallel. I’ve never felt a connection like this with anyone, especially not Colton. Tathan looks so inviting, wet, bare chest, arms spread open and relaxed. I want to curl up in his embrace and snuggle him.
I scoot toward Tathan, wanting to see what hot tub kissing is like when a noise draws our attention toward the gate and I realize I forgot my Saturday night buddy was coming over. Casey.
Fuck. Just fuck.
She shuts the gate behind her, tosses her towel aside and does a cannonball into the hot tub, drenching both Tathan and me.
He looks a little shocked with water beading down his face. “I think she drank that entire bottle.”
Sure enough, she’s holding an empty bottle of wine that she sets down on the edge of the concrete and shakes the one beside me, seeing it’s still half full. “Let’s party!”
When I scoot away from Tathan, Casey notices our proximity and smiles, drifting to the side of the hot tub to sit on the edge. “Was I interrupting?”
Tathan smiles but doesn’t say anything because I practically shout, “No!” before he can get a word in.
“If by interrupting you mean was I hoping to cop a hot tub feel, then yes, you were most definitely interrupting,” Tathan states, with that smile and those dimples.
Thank God for the hot tub because my cheeks were already red, so my embarrassment is masked by the heat.
Fucking Casey has impeccable timing.
Sunday, the morning of the bridal shower, should have been about Casey, but she wants to talk about Tathan and go over the seating chart one last time. It’s all shit we could have done last night instead of drinking wine in the hot tub with Tathan and listening to TLC.
Priorities. We have them.
“My Aunt Carol needs two seats,” Casey says through giggles as we sit at the kitchen table in her mom’s house. It’s where the bridal shower will take place in about three hours. “And Bryan’s Uncle Tom needs to be next to the bathroom. Has some kind of bladder problem.”
“That sounds fun.” I set my mocha down and point to the left of the seating chart. “Put them there.”
She’s just making small talk because what Casey really wants to talk about is Tathan and what’s going on between us. After that, she’s going to want to talk about her bachelorette party at the Red Revolver tonight.
Thankfully, Casey is not a Vegas kind of girl. And Bryan hates gambling. He plans on hitting the strip clubs around Phoenix.
Good for him I say. Get your lap dance.
Casey feels the same way. “He can do blow off a hooker’s ass for all I care as long as he shows up for that wedding.”
I laugh because it’s something she would say. Though I could never see Bryan doing that.
“So,”—and here it comes—“have you. . .?”
Casey thinks I had sex with Tathan last night when she went to bed. She thinks this because of the way he was looking at me last night in the hot tub.
I didn’t. Sure, we kissed again, but no sex. Just a little Elvis and wine this past week.
“We sat up until two in the morning listening to Elvis and sang completely out of tune.”
Casey grins. “Some would call that dating.”
“No, it’s called. . . well, I don’t know, but I’m not dating him.”
“Uh-huh.” She’s giving me a look. One I don’t want. So I push her. “Shut up. We made a deal. One date. One rule.”
“And what’s that one rule?”
“He can only have one date. No matter what.”
“For the last week, you’ve been sitting in a hot tub with him every night. If you’re not dating him, you’re hot tubbing him.”
Zane chooses then to walk over. “What’s hot tubbing him?”
He actually looks excited. As if this is something he should know.
I do have to admit, our behavior begged the question are we dating?
In my mind, no, we’re not.
But we might be hot tubbing.
The bridal shower is uneventful.
Casey gets a few vibrators and lots of sexy lingerie. Most of us are excited about the bachelorette party tonight though, so the bridal shower was just like the beginning of the madness.
By the time the bachelorette party rolls around, I’m already drunk off the four peach margaritas I inhaled.
Zane goes with me to my apartment so I can change into my dress. As we’re leaving, Tathan is leaving his apartment too. Funny how we always meet this way.
“So. . . big party tonight, huh?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I give a nod down the hall, motioning for Zane to walk ahead of me, to give us some privacy. He’s somewhat reluctant, until I kick him in the ass. “Heading out to the Red Revolver,” I tell Tathan, moving my eyes to his.
Why did you just tell him that? He’ll probably follow you now.
Tathan raises an eyebrow and takes in my dress, letting out a relaxed whistle. “Guess I’ll have to expand the patrolling tonight to mark the territory.”
“Yeah.” I laugh, shutting my apartment door and turning to lock it behind me, only to see Zane at the end of the hall dry humping the wall. He’s pretty drunk too. It’s a good thing we’re taking a cab to the bar. “Gotta protect the pride, huh?”
“Oh, for sure.”
I smile and start to walk away when he grabs my hand and pulls me back. “Can I get just one kiss?”
He’s asking for kisses now?
He shifts closer, his body brushing the length of mine. Fighting a shiver at his proximity, he brings his thumb up to stroke my lower lip and then his lips are on mine, soft, tender, sweet, yet there’s some control there too.
Have you ever had a kiss that gives you a feeling like you know exactly where it would head if you let it? Not all kisses lead to sex. That’s not at all what I’m getting at here.
I’m talking about the ones that lead to those shitty emotional feelings. Those kisses.
They suck.
What surprises me is the way his body firmly aligns with mine and gives me a little hint of the possessiveness I know he has.
We explode right then in probably the hottest kiss ever. EVER. Picking me up, he slams me back against my door with his lips frantic on mine, rubbing, twisting, pulling, gasping, you name it, we’re doing it right here in the hallway. The scorch of his tongue, his hands, I should just open my door and let him in because that’s where this is going. Between his tongue filling me, the way his teeth scrape against my lips, it’s all so much more than I was expecting from him at this moment.
When he eases back, needing to breathe, he throws me off by cupping my cheek with his right hand and then kisses my forehead like what you read about in some kind of fairy-tale romance.
I gasp when he lets me down. He chuckles and moves his mouth to my neck, over my jaw, and then pulls away like he’s steadying me for a moment, trying to figure me out.
“Enjoy your evening,” he says, his body hovering intimately over mine, and he let’s go of me completely and then turns to walk down the hall ahead of me.
He sucks.
Because now the entire night I’m going to be thinking of that kiss and him. If I have to guess, it was definitely by design.
When Tathan passes by Zane—who I conveniently forgot witnessed all that—Zane makes a clawing motion and gives a loud “MEEE-OWWW” at him, only to have Tathan wink at him.
When I approach, Zane grins. “Jesus, muff.” He throws his arm around me. “That guy is wet-dream-worthy.”
Don’t I know it.
The Red Revolver is packed.
I can barely move as the loud bass thumps through my veins. I’ve had too much to drink, as has everyone else in the club. Casey’s to my left with a guy she doesn’t know grinding against her ass and two more in front of her.
I can feel a guy behind me, his hands on my hips, low and tight as he moves to the beat with me. I don’t know him, probably won’t ask for his name and when this song is done, we part our ways. It’s how nights like this go, and
he and I both know it. I’m not taking him home, though. Judging by the way he moves, he wants me to, and he’d probably be fairly decent in bed.
Halfway through the song, I turn to face him. He’s hot, tall, built similar to Tathan, but he’s certainly not Tathan because he doesn’t make my skin flush and my heart race when I see him.
When I stare up at this guy, I can’t see what color his eyes are, though I know for a fact they’re not the brown I’ve been dreaming about.
The guy smiles down at me, his hands slipping lower on my hips pushing me into his. To my left, there’s movement and Casey squeals with what seems like delight.
Turning, I face her, hoping she’s okay and those dudes groping her haven’t crossed the line.
I’m met with someone staring at me and then the hands that were occupying my waist fall away, as if he knows he’s lost this chance for a happy ending tonight.
The man before me smiles.
I poke his chest exaggeratedly. “What are you doing here?”
“Protecting the pride.”
Right about then, a song I absolutely love comes on. “Blurred Lines.”
I reach for Tathan—more than likely the seven rum and Cokes I’ve had provoking me to do so—but that kiss and all the others he’s given me lately runs wild through my body, and lines truly are blurred. They’re fucking nonexistent right now.
The dance floor floods with people, and we’re smashed together. My arms lock around his neck, his fall to my hips, fisting the fabric of my dress between his hands.
Our bodies curve to one another, grinding to the beat, our breathing hot and heavy.
We say absolutely nothing. No words need to be said. Our bodies are saying enough.
Thinking of the kiss in the hall, I want his mouth on me, so I move my hands to his cheeks and pull his lips to mine. His beard scrapes my chin, but this kiss stops time.
He gasps, as though he can’t get enough, his tongue darting inside my mouth immediately.
Gliding his fingertips over my ass, he pushes his hips into mine, still moving to the beat.
He’s hard.
