I was mortified. That was what guys actually thought of girls who didn’t mind getting a little dirty and giving some direction? I didn’t think I was a slut, and I was so glad that he had no idea who I really was. That sort of reputation was the last thing I needed. I couldn’t believe that was what he was telling people. What an asshole. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there, wash his scent off my skin, and cry myself to sleep.
As if by pure magic, Quinn appeared out of nowhere right at that moment. "Hey, Sweets! Having fun? Isn’t this party great?" she asked with way too much enthusiasm for me to deal with in my now shitty mood.
"No, it isn’t, and I need to leave now!" Before I ran into Logan or one of his friends.
"Okay, Ash. What the hell happened? Are you alright?"
I’d pulled Quinn toward the door before she could finish her question. "I need to go home and shower. Until five minutes ago, tonight was great, but now we need to get the fuck out of here. I’ll explain everything later."
I’d spent the rest of that night showering and crying, telling Quinn everything that happened. She listened patiently to everything and then wrapped me up in a hug and told me not to believe a word that shithead had said. She insisted that he was just a dumbass trying to make himself look better in front of his friends. I wished it had stopped there. Logan told everyone he could from his frat about our escapades that night. I spent the entire semester thinking people were going to figure out I was the slutty fairy. I wouldn’t have been able to handle all of those guys knowing I was the girl they all talked about. The shame of how I felt that night had never dissipated. It still reared its ugly head at times, like right now.
I need to sneak out of this bed and get the hell out of here before Tanner wakes up. I couldn’t stand to see him look at me with disgust in his eyes. I shift and scoot slowly until I’m out from under his arm and off the bed. I grab my dress and shoes from the floor before heading off to find my purse. I don’t remember the layout of his house from last night, but I head down the stairs at the end of the hallway. I find myself standing in what I assume is the foyer. As I stop for a minute and take a look around, I notice how amazing this place is. It’s one huge open floor.
The foyer, kitchen, dining room, and living room are all one combined space. Two sliders lead out to a large deck area. All the tones are very neutral, not what I would expect for a bachelor's place. Looking out the windows, I’m sure the view must be amazing at night. The kitchen is a dream, all black and white with stainless steel appliances. There’s a huge center island on top of which I see my purse sitting. I walk over to it as quietly as possible to grab my phone and call for a cab. Realizing I don’t know the address, though, I go fishing through the drawers trying to find a piece of mail or something with the address on it. I’m rifling through one of the drawers when Tanner makes an appearance, stretching and yawning.
"Find what you're looking for?" he asks with a smirk on his face.
Christ! Why couldn’t he put on a shirt?
He stands there in gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His happy trail draws my eyes right down to the impressive bulge just below it. His perfectly chiseled chest and abs don’t do anything to help my concentration either. Great, I’m the slut in his kitchen who can’t stop ogling him.
"Umm... I was just looking for something that had the address on it so I can give it to the cab company." Now that he's awake, I guess he can just give it to me instead.
He gives me a puzzled look before walking over and wrapping his hands around my waist. He pulls me to him. The heat radiating from his chest feels so good but it makes me uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that I’m stiff as a statue in his arms.
"All right, what in the world is going on in that beautiful head of yours? You sneak out of bed, and then you’re on a stealth mission to get out of here before I wake up. You couldn’t be any tenser if you tried. Care to explain?"
Damn, why does he have to be so perceptive? "I was just trying to save everyone the awkwardness and get out of here before things got weird," I explain honestly since the man seems like a human lie detector.
"Okay, I don’t even know where I should start with that nonsense, but it’s obvious we need to talk, so sit. I’ll make us some coffee."
"No, it’s alright. Just call me a cab, and I’ll get out of your hair." I don’t want to hear him tell me how last night was great and blah, blah, blah. I’d rather leave now. I could kill my drunk self for getting the sober, hung-over me into this mess.
"I see you’ve put your walls back up. Guess I’ll have to knock ‘em back down again. Have a seat, Ashley. You’re not slipping out of my house first thing in the morning like a one-night stand taking her walk of shame. You aren’t leaving before we address last night because God only knows where your mind is right now. But wherever it is, I don’t like it. We’re going to get things straightened out now. Sit!" Tanner orders.
I’m kind of turned on despite my humiliation at being caught trying to sneak out. I sit and watch Tanner put one of those little K-Cup pods into the coffee maker. He grabs the cream and sugar and puts them on the counter in front of me before turning back to grab the freshly brewed mug of coffee for me. After he hits the start button to brew a mug for himself, he turns to face me once again.
I put a spoonful of sugar in my coffee and add a little cream. Stirring it, I watch Tanner watching me.
When his coffee has finished brewing, he grabs the cream to add some to his cup. After finally taking a sip of his coffee, he looks at me and says, "Start talking, baby. I don’t like all the tension in this room, and none of it’s coming from me."
"I don’t know what it is that you want to talk about."
"Let’s start with why you were trying to sneak out of my house like a thief in the night. That’s a good place."
"I wasn’t trying to sneak out, just heading home. I don’t understand what the big deal is." I don’t get why he’s harping on my escape attempt when most guys would be happy to avoid dealing with their conquest from the night before.
"It’s a big deal because you were planning on leaving without so much as saying a word. You could’ve easily woken me up and asked for a ride home if that's really what you were worried about. But it’s not, so I want to know what the real problem is. Don’t give me some bullshit line either. Don’t insult my intelligence, Ashley."
I’m kind of pissed off by his demands that we talk about my motives. Haven’t I been embarrassed enough this morning? Does he really need me to vocalize it? "The real problem? I practically threw myself at you last night while I was wasted. I gave you a blow job you didn’t even want in the back of a car on the way home. I woke up knowing the only reason I was still here was because I’d passed out on the way home, not because you wanted me here. So what was the point of sticking around for this awkward conversation?" I’m angry, but I’m also shocked that I just said all that. Talk about diarrhea of the mouth.
"Jesus Christ, woman, I don’t even know where to start with that. Come here." He sets his coffee down and pushes off the counter, bringing himself to his full height of six-foot-three.
I continue to sit, staring at him. What is he playing at? Why should I listen to him?
"Please don’t make me ask you again."
I get off the bar stool and walk over to him. He pulls me to his chest and lifts my chin to make me look at him.
"If I didn’t want you here, you would not be here. I know where you live. Remember? Even if I had brought you here just to sleep it off, you would’ve slept in the guest room. Not my bed. Not in my arms. As far as throwing yourself at me, think again. I haven’t seen anything hotter than you last night, taking what you wanted when you wanted it. I can’t tell you how amazing you made me feel, and the fact that you’re sneaking out of here like you have something to be ashamed of really pisses me off. Do you regret last night?" His expression grows serious, almost angry.
What does he have to be angry about? "I... Umm.
.. I don’t..." I stutter, not sure what the hell I’m even feeling. I’m pissed, humiliated, and angry, but I’m also turned on by the authority in his voice.
"You don’t what?"
"I don’t regret last night. I just... I just didn’t want you to think that I was that chick, you know?" Holy hell… Did he pour truth serum in my coffee?
"Why the hell would I think poorly of you? You didn’t do anything that would make me think anything bad of you. If anything, I think you’re far more amazing than I did twenty-four hours ago. So help me understand, please."
"I was pretty slutty last night, and I didn’t want to wait around in case you regretted it. I know you could do better than me, and I just didn’t want to be here when you realized what kind of girl you took home." My anger has all faded away, and I hear my voice waver. I feel as though I could cry. I don’t know how he’s pulling all of this out of me, and I’m even more embarrassed now than I had been when I woke up this morning.
"Oh, baby, there’s nothing slutty about you. You’re amazing, sexy, and I could never regret a minute that I spent with you. My only regret last night was that you were too drunk for me to get a taste of you. I don’t ever want you to feel that way about yourself again, especially not with me. There is nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants in the bedroom. Your confidence was such a turn on. It’s not that I didn’t want what you gave me. I was just trying to be a gentleman. As you can see, I couldn’t resist you for more than a minute.” He kisses the top of my head and playfully smacks my ass. “Now, let’s swing by your place so you can change, and we’ll go get breakfast and continue this conversation."
He found me a turn on last night? And he isn’t trying to kick me out, but wants to take me to breakfast? I’m so confused that I don’t know where to begin. Well, my body knows where it wants to begin, but my brain is a whole other story.
Chapter 11
ASHLEY
"Do you have to be at the office today?" Tanner asks on the drive to my apartment.
"No, I just need to hand in my article about Levitate by three o’clock. You really don’t need to take me to breakfast. I'm sure you have plenty to do today." Part of me wants him to drop me off and leave. I'm still overwhelmed by everything that has happened in the last twelve hours, and I need some time to process.
"The only thing I have to do today, besides figuring out what is going on in that busy mind of yours, is check on travel plans for this Sunday's game and swing by my mom's," he says as though he isn’t a famous quarterback and has all the time in the world.
"Fine, but can we go somewhere normal like a diner? Not a place like that restaurant you picked for dinner." I’m not a girl who’s into places where I have to be dressed up just to order some eggs. Too over-the-top for me.
"You want to go to a diner?" he asks as though I’ve said something so foreign it might as well not be English.
"Yes. A diner with greasy hangover food where I can go eat in yoga pants and a t-shirt." As if on cue, my stomach growls, making me laugh.
"A diner it is then. You really are something else. I don’t think that I’ve ever met another woman as easy as you." He smirks at me.
"I think I proved that last night." I sigh, remembering my unsavory behavior again. Great first sexual impression on the man, Ashley, I reprimand myself.
"I thought we already discussed this, but I guess we’ll have to explore it further,” he says as we pull up to my building.
"Do you want to come in or wait in the car?" I really don’t want him to come in, but it would be rude of me not to ask him.
"Actually, I’m going to take care of a few calls while you get ready so that I can give you my full attention at breakfast." He smiles his million-dollar smile at me and then adds, "We’re going to get this situation between us settled once and for all. You can count on that."
What in the world does that mean? Seriously, Tanner’s like a hurricane. He comes in full force, demanding to know all the thoughts in my head. He seems to see right through me, as though I have a dialogue bubble above my head displaying everything I think. Understandably, I’m nervous about breakfast. He has this unbelievable ability to make me spill all my thoughts without hesitation. I don’t want to give him all my inner thoughts and dirty little secrets. I’m not ready to be that exposed to anyone. I have a feeling that he’s going to ask about Jason, and I have no idea what I’m going to tell him. He’ll know if I’m lying. I don’t know how, but he will, so I need to figure out a game plan before I get there. I can just tell him that he cheated on me. There’s no reason to go into the embarrassing footnotes.
I take a quick shower, change my clothes, brush my teeth and throw on a minimal amount of makeup. After about ten minutes of rushing to get ready, I head back down to his car. He’s already seen me at my worst in the morning light, so I don’t have to put in much effort to look better than that. I already know that I’m nowhere near as beautiful as the woman that he’s usually seen with. Damn, maybe I should have thought about that before I left the apartment. Now I feel really self-conscious. I’m just a plain Jane, and he’s used to Malibu Melissa. Sometimes it’s easy to forget who he is because he doesn’t act like a famous athlete at all. Even with hours to prepare and the most expensive dresses in Quinn's closet at my disposal, I still wouldn’t look nearly as good as the women he’s used to. Probably why he enjoyed last night. He didn’t even have to work for it. I’m sure that his usual type makes him put in a lot more effort. With looks like theirs, he probably falls at their feet.
"What's with the frown, gorgeous?" he asks after I’ve hopped in and buckled my seat belt.
"Nothing," I say quietly. I need to leave the pity party home. We’re just having breakfast. It’s not like we’re a couple or anything.
"More bullshit, huh? Is that today's special or something? Because you seem to be serving a lot of it up this morning."
Jesus Christ. Can’t I just have a moment to myself to be insecure? "No bullshit. I'm fine," I tell him, sporting a smile.
"The fake smile gives you away even more.”
"What the hell? Are you a secret CIA agent with training on how to spot lies?" I ask in annoyance. How the fuck does he read me like that? It’s starting to piss me off.
"No, I’m just used to seeing people fake it until they make it, and I can tell the difference when you’re lying because your face gives you away. It’s completely different from your normal, carefree face that I happen to like much better." He smiles. "So are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are we going to sit here all day?"
"Ugh, I hate that you do this to me. I'm fine, okay? I was just thinking that it might have been better to put a little more effort into my appearance considering that you’re you. I forget sometimes because you don’t seem like a famous person."
"Why do you do that to yourself? Have I given you the impression that I’m embarrassed to be seen with you? You were the most beautiful woman at the club last night. You were the most beautiful woman in the restaurant when we went to dinner. You’re not only beautiful, but you care, which is hard to find. There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t want to hear you say one more negative thing about yourself for the rest of the day, got it?"
I stare out the window, thinking about what he’s just said. I don’t see it myself, but this isn’t the first time he’s called me the hottest chick.
"What's so funny?" he asks when I start to chuckle.
"I’m just thinking that maybe you’ve taken one too many hits to the head during games."
"What did I just get done saying? No more negative shit. I have not been sacked enough to have brain damage. One concussion in all my years of football. Nothing wrong with my brain, baby."
"If you say so,” I reply with a snarky smile.
We drive to the diner in a comfortable silence, which strikes me as odd because car silence usually isn’t comfortable—especially when you’re with someone you don’t know all that well. I suppose I’ll just ad
d it to the list of unexplainable occurrences between Tanner and me.
"So what's up with your friend calling you Tag last night?" I ask as we pull into the diner parking lot.
"Those are my initials. It goes back to high school. The only people who really call me that are Alex and Melissa." He ushers me into the diner, his hand at the small of back. Chills run up my spine and down my arms, and I'm not sure if they’re because of his hand on my back or the mention of Melissa. I’d completely forgotten about his potential girlfriend. I might as well have just had an ice bucket dumped over my head, because that’s how I feel at the mention of her.
"What is Melissa to you really? I mean, you know what everyone says about you two, and I don’t want to be that girl. You know, the one who… umm... messes with another woman's man."
Tanner stops midstride and turns to face me. His face looks drawn, and for a second I’m worried that I’ve stepped over a line I shouldn’t have.
Too bad. I need to know. I know what it’s like to have someone else sleep, and lords knows what else, with my boyfriend. I won’t be the one to do that to someone else, no matter who the guy in question is.
"No, Melissa is not my girlfriend. She’s a very good friend, probably the best friend I have after Alex.”
"Oh, okay." Hearing him say they’re just friends makes me feel slightly better. If they’re just friends, we aren’t doing anything wrong. I decide to put off thinking about Melissa for now.
"You don’t seem convinced. We can discuss my relationship with Melissa at the table."
"No, it’s fine. You don’t need to explain anything to me." I must sound like a needy little girl. Not the impression I want to give. Although I’m still trying to figure out why I give two shits about what Tanner thinks of me.
"Sweetheart, you are killing me. What happened to that ‘take what I want’ girl from last night? Hmm?" Tanner asks as we slide into a booth.
Good question. I could use a Quinn pep talk right about now. I try to think of what she would say to me. Thinking of her makes me wonder what ended up happening with her and Alex last night.
Inhibitions Page 9
