And that was a metaphor straight out of a bodice ripper. I cringed inwardly, glad that Phoenix wasn’t a mind reader.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, resting my knees against the dashboard. The hem of my dress slid down my thighs. “Eyes on the road, buddy,” I added calmly as I felt his gaze linger on my legs. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, not really. We’d known each other since we were snot-faced kids, and one time, we’d even seen each other naked during summer camp all those years ago. We were just comfortable with each other like that.
He propped his sunglasses on his head, darting his eyes my way again. “I thought we might have brunch at that place you like.”
“Aria Café?” Phoenix wasn’t the brunch type of person.
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
I squinted at him. “Are you paying?”
He flashed a grin at me, and my idiotic heart went pitty-pat again. “Of course.”
Flicking an invisible lint off my dress, I threatened, “I’m going to order everything. Everything.”
That wasn’t enough to scare him like I’d hoped. His cool gaze rested on me.
“And I’m going to sit there and watch you eat it all. Every last bite.”
Chapter 3
Phoenix
Sam hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she was going to order everything. The table in front of me was filled with enough food to feed a family of four. She sat there, hunched as she shoveled bite-sized pancakes into her mouth. To my right, a young woman shot her a disgusted look, then glanced over at me. She was cute, with straight blonde hair and leggy limbs clad in pink skinny jeans. She rolled her eyes as if to say, What a pig. Too bad you’re stuck with her. As if she and I were sharing a private joke.
In her dreams.
I stared back at her with a stone-cold expression, then returned my attention to Sam. She finally looked up with a sheepish grin.
“I didn’t have breakfast,” she explained, and I knew instantly that she’d caught the disgusted look from blondie. She didn’t miss a lot of things. Well, except for the perverted looks from “Jack.” Why she never noticed them was beyond me.
“I know you didn’t have breakfast,” I said, leaning over to grab a sliced strawberry off her plate. “I was the one who woke you up, remember?”
And with that little reminder, an awkward silence fell between us.
Sam stared at her plate of pancakes, as if it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. “I drank a fair amount of alcohol at the party,” she said slowly, “and I don’t really remember –”
“You drove me home last night.” When she looked aghast, I added, “Try to come up with a better excuse next time, yeah?”
She was normally so cool, so “together.” So why couldn’t we talk about what almost happened between us like mature adults?
When she fell silent again, I nudged her foot below the table with my own. “Did you mean it?” I asked softly. “If I hadn’t stopped, would you have gone all the way?”
Abruptly, she shot out of her chair. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I found myself half-rising from my own chair as well. “Yeah, all right. I’ll be . . . right here.” Stupid! Where else would I be?
Sam sent me a trembling smile before disappearing around the wall, where the bathrooms were. I stared at the empty seat before me as I sat back down.
Blondie’s guy went to pay the bill. As she walked past my table, she dropped a folded piece of paper in front of me. Frowning, I flicked my eyes upward.
A playful smile lingered on her full lips before she joined her guy at the entrance door. Together, they stepped outside and walked past the window. Before she and her guy disappeared around the corner, she turned her head around to shoot me one last meaningful look.
I flipped the paper open.
You’re so hot! Call me. I’ll make it worth your while.
Blondie had scrawled her number below.
***
Sam
I washed my hands twice, trying to stretch my time in the bathroom. Honestly, I had no idea what to say to Phoenix: Yes, I would have gone all the way, if you were willing to have me. Beyond that, I wasn’t really thinking.
But I could never say that. I didn’t want his pity, and I especially didn’t want our friendship to become awkward and strained because of one mistake.
Squaring my shoulders, I walked out and returned to my seat. Phoenix was on his phone, his brows knotted in irritation.
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” he said, his gaze resting on me as I resumed eating. “I don’t know . . . forty minutes, maybe?” His fingers drummed listlessly on the table as he listened. “Just relax. No one is going to ‘paw’ at you. Just throw on your top if you’re that worried.”
Another few more minutes, and he finally pressed “end call.”
“Trouble in paradise?” I asked as I reached for the scrambled eggs.
“More like stuck in hell,” he muttered under his breath, piercing my remaining pancakes with his fork. He made quick work of them in two huge bites before draining his coffee.
When we finished everything on the table, I finally noticed the perfumed piece of paper lying beside the empty plates.
“What’s that?” I asked, curious.
Phoenix crumpled it up in his fist and let it drop to the floor. “Nothing. Let’s go.” And he strode over to the counter to pay the bill.
Minutes later, as we stood beside his car, I tilted my head up and gazed at him. “No, I wouldn’t have,” I said quietly, forcing myself not to look away.
His penetrating gaze was unwavering, but something shifted in his eyes as he nodded slowly. I think he was convinced by my lie. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he settled in the driver’s seat and stared ahead.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No, drop me off at the mall. I need to buy some groceries for dinner.”
His body tensed up. “You’re making dinner? Your mom won’t be home?”
“She’s spending the weekend at the spa.”
His knuckles turned white as his hands clutched the steering wheel.
“Get in. We’re grocery shopping.”
I raised a brow. “What about Wanda?”
“She’ll have to wait a bit longer.”
***
At the supermarket, I bought chicken breasts, parmesan cheese, a can of tomatoes, and fresh basil, bickering with Phoenix the entire time. He shadowed me along the aisles, questioning my decisions.
“Why do you need parmesan cheese?”
“I’m making chicken parmesan.”
“You don’t need fresh basil. Get the dried ones.” He pulled out the bag of leaves from my shopping basket.
I yanked it from his hands. “Give that back to me.”
He studied the can of tomatoes. “This is too expensive. It’s a waste on Jack,” he said stiffly. “Get the cheaper can, the one with no name on it.”
“I like this brand,” I protested.
And on and on.
Later, as he dropped me off, he stalled in his car for a minute, as if debating with himself about something. When I opened the door and stepped inside the house, he leaned out and gave a sharp whistle.
I widened my eyes and mouthed, What?
“I’m coming over for dinner, so make extra,” he called out, and before I could respond, he drove off.
Shaking my head, I closed the door and took the grocery bags to the kitchen. I still had two hours left before the next lesson, so I decided to call Missy’s mom and tell her I was feeling much better already, and that I could squeeze in the piano lesson I’d canceled.
Chapter 4
Sam
“What should I do with the chopped onions, Sam?” Rhonda asked as she stood beside me at the island counter.
Missy’s mom had placed them into a neat pile on the cutting board, next to the minced garlic.
“Sauté them in the pan,” I instructed, grabbing the bottle of olive oil and ha
nding it to her. She nodded and dutifully went about her simple task.
Phoenix was going to kill me when he found out who else had come over for dinner.
But it couldn’t be helped. After the lesson, Rhonda had accosted me at the foyer, brimming with questions about Phoenix: Are you dating him? No? I didn’t realize you two were friends. . . . Are you meeting him again later? . . . Oh, he’s coming over for dinner? What are you making? Chicken parmesan? Ooh, Missy adores chicken parmesan, but I’m such a terrible cook. . . . Are you sure we wouldn’t be intruding? No? Well then, how wonderful! I’ll bring a bottle of white wine on the way.
Like I said, it couldn’t be helped. I was still a bit numb by how quickly the situation had escalated to the point where the woman was now standing in my kitchen, and Missy was sitting in the living room, watching a golf tournament on TV with Jack.
The woman was a pro. Phoenix had better watch out.
While the chicken was baking in the oven, a curt, single knock on the door signaled Phoenix’s arrival. Rhonda clapped her hands, delighted, and went to open the door. His hulking frame filled the doorway.
For the briefest of moments, a look of confusion flickered across his face, and he stepped back to check the house number. His confusion swiftly changed to a I-will-get-you-for-this murderous look as I bobbed nervously behind Rhonda with an apologetic smile. Sorry, I mouthed as Rhonda dragged him into the house and introduced him to her daughter Missy. The precocious little girl peppered him with questions the moment he sat down beside Jack, who merely grunted a greeting at him before turning his full attention to the tournament. During this whole time, Phoenix’s glare never left me.
I shrugged helplessly at him before disappearing into the kitchen.
When dinner was ready, everyone sat at the dinner table, and of course, Rhonda and Missy sandwiched Phoenix. He sat across from me, his gaze practically boring a hole in Jack’s head as my stepdad leaned toward me and poured wine into my glass.
“That’s enough, Jack,” I said, placing a hand on his arm.
He chuckled and continued pouring. “Your mom’s not home, and you’re in college now. C’mon. Live a little.”
“But I –”
Before I could finish my sentence, Phoenix reached over, grabbed the wine glass, and drained it in one shot. His glittering eyes settled on Jack as he slammed the glass down. It was a wonder the glass didn’t break.
“Mr. Henderson, your stepdaughter has a very low tolerance level for alcohol,” he said calmly, but there was nothing calm about the rest of him. I could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. And if looks could kill . . .
A corner of Jack’s mouth curled in contempt. “I thought I told you to call me Jack. And Sam,” he chided, turning to me, “you should have said something. Anyway, I have a bottle of non-alcoholic wine somewhere. Let me get that for you.” And he left to rummage through his wine cabinet.
I settled in my chair and demurely ate my chicken, keeping my eyes down. But I was fuming inside. Why was Phoenix being so dramatic? So my stepdad filled my glass to the brim. It didn’t mean I had to drink it all. After one or two sips, I could have simply thrown the rest of it out. I was so angry that I resorted to childish behavior – I kicked his shin under the table.
Phoenix remained perfectly still, but I could tell he was in pain. He bit his lower lip, his eyes narrowed. I felt his large foot press down on mine, hard. Shooting him a closed-lipped smile, I slipped off my other shoe and wriggled my toes, which were warmly clad in rainbow toe socks. When my dad was still around, he used to praise the dexterity of my toes. “If you wanted,” he would say with a laugh, “you could play the piano with them!”
I gently ran my toes up Phoenix’s calf and along his thigh. Surprised, he looked at me, his lips parting a little. My toes danced across and settled on the tender flesh of his inner thigh, inches away from his crotch.
Phoenix’s eyes glazed over, his fork clattering on the table.
My grin grew wider. That was when I pushed my foot in and captured that tender flesh between my big toe and second toe. My toes clenched and pinched him.
Hard.
He let out a small gasp and hunched over, grabbing my foot with both hands. I released him and wriggled my rainbow toes again. He must have caught sight of them, because he breathed out a half-laugh, half-groan, still holding on to my foot.
“Is something wrong?” Rhonda asked at once, placing a hand on Phoenix’s wide shoulder.
“Mommy,” Missy said, her eyes round as she looked down, “he has rainbow worms coming from his pee pee! It’s magic!”
I yanked my foot down and immediately pushed it back into my shoe.
“Sweetie!” Rhonda cried, aghast, but her traitorous eyes dropped to the front of Phoenix’s pants. Of course, there were no “rainbow worms” there.
“Rhonda,” he said quietly, holding back a laugh, “my eyes are up here.” And he gestured at the general vicinity of his face.
“What? Yes, yes, of course.” Embarrassed, the woman settled into her seat and resumed eating, but I detected a slight tint of glow on her cheeks. She must have liked what she’d seen.
Meanwhile, Jack returned to the table, holding a glass of non-alcoholic wine filled to the brim. “There you go!” he said, setting the glass down with a flourish. He reached over and caressed the back of my neck. “Enjoy.”
Phoenix’s sour mood returned and spoiled the rest of the evening.
***
By nine, Missy was nodding off on the sofa, and Rhonda had consumed an alarming quantity of alcohol from Jack’s wine cabinet. Jack seemed ready to send them off, judging by the looks he kept throwing me.
To be honest, I was feeling unusually tired myself; then again, it had been a pretty stressful day for me. I nudged Phoenix with my elbow, and he leaned down, bringing his face closer to mine.
“What is it?”
“Can you take them home?” I asked. “I don’t think Rhonda can drive in that state.”
His face instantly darkened. “Get Jack to drive them home.”
“I’m tired, Phoenix, and I don’t want to argue.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “Can you please do this for me?”
Once again, he seemed to be debating with himself, his eyes locked with mine. His gaze dropped to my lips, and I hurriedly looked down before I did something regrettable. Like lick my lips. Or close my eyes and lean in for a kiss.
“Okay,” he finally said, before flicking his eyes toward Jack. My stepdad had been watching us. Phoenix stared at him for a while, his eyes narrowed, then went to scoop up the sleepy child. As Missy wrapped her arms around his neck, he tightened his hold on her.
“Rhonda, can you get up?” I asked gently. When she nodded, I helped her to her feet and walked down the driveway with her. After stuffing mother and child in the backseat, I leaned down and smiled at Phoenix.
“I’ll call you later,” he said.
I stifled a yawn. “Tomorrow,” I suggested. “Right now, I just want to snuggle under my blanket and go to sleep.”
He looked worried for some reason, but didn’t say anything as he studied my face. Finally, he nodded and chucked me under the chin.
“I bet I’ll be in your dreams,” he said matter-of-factly, and then drove off.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I went back to the house. “You wish,” I huffed, but inside, I kind of hoped he would.
Chapter 5
Phoenix
Back at Sam’s house, I’d had a feeling that Rhonda’s drunken state was a ruse. I mean, she’d had four, maybe five glasses of wine. Sure, that was a lot, but not enough to incapacitate someone. At least not in my experience.
When I reached her house, I rummaged through her bag for her house keys. They weren’t there, so I had no choice but to stick my hands into her jeans. I quickly pulled them out and went to unlock the door.
After taking Missy in and tucking her into the princess-themed bed, I went out and carried Rhonda in. There was no way I
was going to take the woman to her bed, so I laid her down on the living room sofa. When I leaned over to turn on the lamp, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer, her eyes half-opened.
“Stay the night,” she murmured, tightening her arms when I shook my head.
“I have a girlfriend.”
“She doesn’t have to know.” And then she grabbed my hand and pushed it under her sweater.
I’ve always believed in letting women down easy, but I wasn’t in the mood tonight. My focus was on Sam; no one else.
I leaned forward until we were practically nose to nose. “Rhonda,” I said quietly.
“Hmm?” She pushed her own hands underneath my shirt. Her nails were long, and they scraped across my skin. Not like Sam, who had short nails because she played the piano.
I placed my lips against her ear. “You are really not my type.”
Immediately, she stiffened and pushed me off. “It’s because of Sam, isn’t it?” she said, sitting up.
I cocked my brow. “No. I’m just not interested.” When I saw the hurt in her eyes, I sighed. “Look, you’re a very attractive woman –”
“But not good enough for you,” she whispered.
This needed to end. Right now. I stood up and went to the door. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
She nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Goodnight.”
Feeling like an ass, I nodded back at her and stepped out into the cool night, closing the door behind me. As soon as I settled into the driver’s seat, I pulled out my phone and sent Sam a quick text message.
Can I come over? Jack doesn’t have to know.
Then I remembered how tired she had looked, and how that had worried me. Sam was a night owl; she’d always been that way. But tonight, it was almost as if she had taken a sleeping pill or something.
My phone started blinking; Sam had sent a reply.
Tempting, but no. I’ll see you in my dreams.
Grinning, I was about to send another message when my brother Sean called. I frowned and picked it up.
“Hey, bro, where are you?”
My Friend, Phoenix Page 2
