I took a sip of my wine. “Is it my imagination, or are you inordinately fond of the letter V?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or perhaps your fascination is with words that start with V. Venus, velvet…” I gazed at the fingers he’d just licked.
He looked at my fingers as well, lips parted slightly and tongue darting between his teeth. “Velvet…yes, you’re absolutely right.” His eyes were smoldering. “I adore velvet. It’s one of my favorite things in the world.”
I squirmed in my seat, uncrossing and re-crossing my legs. “Okay, I think we need to change the subject…”
“As much as I’m enjoying this one, you may be right.” Daniel chuckled.
We turned our attention back to our food, and he quizzed me about my family and upbringing, my hometown and high school. The heat in my face gradually lessened as I talked about my life back in Oakville. I feared I was boring him with my rather run-of-the-mill history, but he listened intently, asking questions the whole time.
I returned the favor, pressing for more information about his family but stopping short of asking him for the details of Penny and Brad’s wedding. Might there be a chance that I’d be able to go as Daniel’s date? I was afraid to broach the topic. It certainly wasn’t my place to say anything, but that didn’t stop my imagination from running wild. I tried to imagine possible venues. Wherever it occurred, the wedding was bound to be an epic event. Gwen was probably an extraordinary wedding planner.
We spent a good two hours at lunch, talking, laughing, and flirting shamelessly. After we polished off our meals and wine, we each enjoyed a leisurely cup of cappuccino and shared a plate of biscotti. By three o’clock, Daniel was looking at his watch and lamenting the fact that he had other commitments. As our time together drew to a close, I reflected that even though we still weren’t able to “go public,” the afternoon had been pretty wonderful.
After paying the bill, Daniel stood up and held my coat for me. He tenderly pulled my ponytail out from under my collar—a small gesture, but one that tugged at my heart with its sweet simplicity. His attentiveness was unparalleled. As we left the restaurant, he looked around, always heedful of his surroundings.
“My car really is down in the underground parking lot,” he said as we crossed the lobby. “Do you want me to drive you to Charles Street? Let you out at Bay maybe?”
“That would be great.”
We emerged into the underground lot. It was virtually deserted, just a few cars parked here and there. Daniel’s BMW was behind a pillar on the other side of the lot. As we walked, he placed his hand on my lower back. How I wished he could do that all the time.
“I really do appreciate this. I don’t think I’d make it back to Jackman with both of my feet intact if I had to walk all the way.”
“Not comfortable?” he asked, looking at my shoes.
“They’re killing me,” I said.
“That’s unfortunate. I was considering asking you not to take them off ever again. They’re incredibly sexy.”
After looking around cautiously, he led me behind the pillar and stepped toward me, effectively trapping me against the passenger side door of his car. He clasped both of my hands and brought one of them up to his lips, brushing my knuckles with a gentle kiss. My breath caught in my throat. He leaned toward me, his hips pushing me back into the car door.
Oh my God, what was he doing? There was nothing cautious or guarded in his movements. My pulse raced, and I closed my eyes, dropping my head back. He let go of one of my hands and gently pulled my hair free of my ponytail, slipping the elastic hair tie into my pocket before pulling my hair around my face.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.
“Daniel, what are you doing?” I asked, licking my lips nervously.
“Do you want me to stop? Should I take you home right now?”
Did he really want an answer? Because there was no way in hell I was prepared to tell him to stop.
“Tell me, Aubrey, is that what you want?” he prodded.
Apparently he did want an answer. “Of course that’s not what I want, Daniel. What I want is something you’re not able to give me right now. I’m not blaming you, I’m really not, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.”
“I’m sorry.” He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “I know it’s not right to do this to you, telling you that we can’t be together and then turning around and pawing at you like a horny teenager.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I said. “I understand. If you’re feeling anything like I am right now, your brain is telling you one thing, but your body is telling you something entirely different.” I took his hand and placed it on my cheek, pressing it there with my palm.
“That’s it in a nutshell. I’m at a loss. What do you think I should do?” he asked, lightly trailing his fingers across my cheek.
“I really think you should kiss me,” I whispered. There was absolutely nothing I wanted more in that moment than for his lips to be against mine. I couldn’t allow myself to believe he wasn’t going to kiss me until May.
He put his hands on his hips, grimaced, and looked away. “That is the worst possible thing I could do right now.”
“Oh, really? How do you figure that?”
He sighed deeply. “You’re familiar with the term Achilles’ heel?”
“Uh-huh.” I ran my fingertips along his jawline.
“Well, let’s say the first hint of your tongue against mine, and you’d be over my shoulder and upstairs in one of those king-sized beds faster than you can say ‘room service.’”
The mere mention of our tongues touching made me ache.
I moved my hand around to the nape of his neck and leaned forward, running my lips across his cheek. Kissing was his biggest weakness? Good Lord! How hot was that?
“I probably shouldn’t have told you that,” he said, his breath tickling my cheek.
“Probably not. It’s not the best deterrent…”
I parted my lips and darted my tongue gently along his jaw, something I’d wanted to do for a mighty long time. He clasped the frame of the car door behind my shoulders.
“What are you trying to do to me?” he moaned, thrusting his hips forward and rubbing against me firmly.
“I like to think of it as research,” I said.
I ran my hands up into his unbelievably soft hair, whimpering as my hands slipped through his locks.
He laughed gently. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. I think I need to take you home so you can have a cold shower.”
I grabbed his belt loops, pulling him against me. What I really wanted to do was grope him through his pants, but through some miracle I restrained myself.
“Who needs the cold shower?” I asked huskily, grinding against him.
“Ah, you women, always taking advantage of us poor men and our telltale physiological responses,” he said with a strained chuckle.
“I believe I’m having a rather strong physiological response myself,” I admitted, a naughty glint in my eye. “Care to do a little research of your own?”
He moaned and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Fuck, Aubrey, you will definitely be the death of me.” Taking a step back, he reached behind me to pinch my ass before pulling open the passenger side door. Cheeky bastard. “In the car, young lady,” he ordered.
“Must I?” I pouted.
“Absolutely. If I don’t get you home right now, something disastrous is bound to happen.”
I looked at him demurely and batted my eyelashes. “Yes, sir.”
I climbed into the car, smiling as I saw him adjust himself in his pants before getting in beside me. He started the car and grasped the steering wheel tightly, leaning against the headrest and taking a few deep, shaky breaths.
“This is madness,” he said, shaking his head and winking at me. “Come on. Let’s get you back.”
While he drove, I tried to gain control of my own breathing. Three quick right turns and a m
ere five minutes later, we were pulling up to the curb on Charles Street. My mood deflated in an instant.
“Is this okay? Not too far to walk?” he asked, looking up the street to the residence buildings two blocks away.
“Sure, this’ll be fine. Thanks for lunch, Daniel. I had an amazing afternoon.” I didn’t want to go. I could quite happily have spent the rest of the day with him, and the night…
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I did too. And you’re welcome. I wish we could spend more time together, but I really need to get some things done, and I meant what I said earlier. The longer we spend together, the weaker my resolve gets. I feel like I need to step away to regain my perspective, you know?”
“I understand completely.” Did I ever. His proximity intoxicated me.
“But I’ll see you tomorrow night?” he said. “Is it okay if I call you tomorrow so we can sort out plans?”
“Of course it’s okay. You don’t have to ask permission.” I gathered up my purse and pulled on the door handle.
“Sorry I can’t walk you there.” He glanced out at the people walking by on the sidewalk. “But—”
“No, that’s fine. You stay put,” I said, opening the door and stepping out. Before I closed the door, I leaned back inside. “About tomorrow, can I make a request?”
“Fire away.”
“Can you wear the jeans with the hole in the knee?”
He laughed. “What? Those ratty old things? Are you serious?”
“Completely. Best wardrobe malfunction I’ve ever seen,” I said, staring longingly at his legs.
“If you promise to look at me like that all night, then hell yes.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
“Oh, and, Daniel?”
“Yes, Aubrey?”
“Don’t shave.”
Chapter 20
A Fool for You
Viola: …I am not what I am.
Olivia: I would you were as I would have you be!
Viola: Would it be better, madam, than I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
(Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene 1)
EARLY SATURDAY AFTERNOON, Matt and I were having lunch and getting caught up. As we talked, my mind wandered to the events of the previous day. Daniel clutching my pinkie during the memorial service. Daniel licking my fingers at the restaurant. Daniel pushing me against the door of his car…
I tried to concentrate on what Matt was saying and vaguely caught him telling me something about a film he was studying for one of his courses when my phone rang. I leaped up to grab it.
“Hello?”
“Aubrey?”
“Daniel!” I exclaimed.
Matt looked at me curiously. Shit, what was I doing?
“You sound surprised to hear from me. Is this a bad time?” Daniel asked.
“No, of course not. Give me a sec.” I turned to Matt and pointed at the dishes on the table. “Leave this stuff, Matt. I’ll help you clean up after, okay?” Matt waved me off and continued eating. “I need to grab my notes, Daniel. Hang on,” I said, retreating to my room and closing the door behind me.
I breathed deeply, inexplicably winded. Why was I so excited to be talking to him on the phone? It was like I’d been transported back in time to grade ten.
“Hey, now I can talk.”
“Are you in the middle of something? Am I interrupting?”
“No, no, Matt and I were having lunch,” I explained. “I mentioned my notes because I needed an excuse to get out of the room. I thought that might justify your call, too.”
There was a momentary silence. Was he annoyed that I’d blurted his name out?
“I can’t believe I let your name slip in front of Matt. I was caught off guard. I’m sorry.” I paused, waiting for an answer. “Daniel, are you still there?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m still here,” he replied. “No need to apologize for that. I don’t think it’s a big deal.” After a few seconds he sighed, and then his tone changed. “I’m sorry. The thought of you two together over there makes me frigging crazy.”
I couldn’t believe he was still harping on this.
“You’ve got to let it go. He’s my roommate. End of story. Thinking you don’t trust me kind of hurts.” I sat on the end of my bed and picked at a piece of lint on my yoga pants.
“It’s not you I’m worried about, poppet,” he said. “I saw the way he looked at you that night a few weeks ago. I know that look, but it’s not just that. I wish I could hang out with you all day like he does, doing mundane things like watching TV and eating lunch.”
“Are you saying my life is mundane?”
“You know what I mean. Don’t be difficult.”
“Yes, I know what you mean,” I said, flopping onto my back. “Any time you want to invite me over to the condo to watch TV, I’ll be there in a heartbeat, you know that. Hell, I’d come over and watch paint dry with you.”
“You, young lady, are like a dog with a bone.” He laughed.
The tension was broken.
“Wouldn’t I be more like a dog without a bone?” I joked.
He cleared his throat. “No comment. And wet paint or no, you know I can’t have you over here,” he said, his tone firm.
Sensible Daniel was back and in full control of the situation once more.
“Yes, dear,” I said with an exasperated sigh.
“‘Dear’? Oh, fuck. Call me anything, but please don’t call me ‘dear,’” he said. I could almost hear him cringing. “That’s my mom and dad all over.”
“Dear” wasn’t generally part of my repertoire, but his reaction was enough to make me consider using the term more often just to push his buttons.
“Sorry, sweet knees. I didn’t mean to make you feel like an old man,” I said innocently. “Sure, you’ve got years on me and all, but—”
“Hey, easy now,” he warned. “Don’t be giving me a complex. I already have enough of those.” He paused for a second. “Did you call me ‘sweet knees’?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve gotta give me that one.”
“It’s a little too close to sweet cheeks for my liking,” he said.
“Dude, let it go, please. Now tell me,” I said, eager to lighten the tone and move the conversation away from Matt and my pet names for him, “am I going to get a look at one of those sweet knees tonight?”
Daniel sighed again. “Don’t worry. Mr. Ratty Pants will be making an appearance this evening.”
“Mr. Ratty Pants. I like that.” I rolled onto my stomach. “Almost as good as Dr. Hobo.”
“Who’s Dr. Hobo?”
“You, of course. That’s what I started calling you after seeing a few of your wardrobe choices.”
He chuckled, which was a relief. I was worried he’d think me a total moron.
“But when you showed up at your parents’ place last week, looking like a runway model, I decided to give your non-classroom alter-ego a name, too,” I added.
“Huh, a runway model, eh?” he said. “And what, may I ask, was this other name?”
I could hear the smile in his voice; his mood seemed to be lifting.
I cleared my throat. “Um, Mr. GQ,” I mumbled.
This time he laughed in that uncontrolled giggly way I loved. It was so great to hear him sounding like himself again. “Are you serious?” he said.
“Yeah, well, that’s nothing compared to Julie’s name for you.”
“Oh, please, do tell,” he begged, still laughing.
“Don’t you dare tell her I told you.”
“Scout’s honor.”
“Well, she calls you…Mr. Shmexy.”
“Jesus, do I even want to know what the two of you have been talking about for the last month?”
“Probably not. And even if you did, I don’t think I’d tell you. Pretty soon someone’s gonna need to take a large hatpin to your over-sized ego,” I said.
“Hey, everyone’s ego needs stroking once in a while.” He was all seriou
sness now.
“After the week we’ve had, something else needs some stroking too, don’t you think?”
“All right, missy, get your ass over here right now! I’m painting a wall as we speak!” he said, a tone of mock urgency in his voice.
“You keep painting. I’ll be there in fifty-four days,” I said casually.
“Goddamn that calendar. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.” He sighed.
“Hey, I happen to love that calendar, but I sure wish I knew more about all the artwork inside. I need Julie to explain all the reproductions to me.”
“Speaking of Julie…”
“Uh-oh. That sounds ominous.”
“Not really. I’ve been doing some thinking about what you said yesterday—how you wished you didn’t have to hide the truth from Julie?” He paused, and I held my breath. “As hard as this is for me, I’ve got J and Brad and Penny to talk to, but you? You’ve got nobody. It hardly seems fair. Julie seems to be a great friend, and she’d never do anything to hurt you, right?”
“Right. Absolutely,” I said.
He sighed again.
“Telling her about us will make things a little more uncomfortable for me, but I’m willing to take one for the team if that’ll make things easier for you—as long as you can guarantee that she can be trusted not to tell anyone. No room for doubt.”
“I can’t think of another friend I trust more right now, except maybe Matt,” I said. Again, his name evoked silence. “Daniel?”
“I’m here,” he said flatly.
“Okay, how about we don’t talk about him anymore. Deal?” I asked.
“Deal,” he said. “So, what do you think? Do you want to tell her?”
“That’s up to you. The lies are killing me, but I don’t think I have any right to make that kind of demand.”
“Then it’s decided. Tell her tonight. It’ll make the outing a hell of a lot less uncomfortable.”
“I can see your point there, but I can’t just spring it on her at the benefit.”
“Why don’t you invite her over to your place so you can go over together? Maybe you could soften her up by telling her about Jeremy.”
The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) Page 21
