by Tara Wyatt
It was her turn to laugh. “I promise you, I’m not pissed. I don’t have any homicidal plans where you’re concerned. I just…let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” She wanted so badly to tell him that she had feelings for him too, but not on the phone at two in the morning when he was drunk. If this was really, truly real, she needed to know. She needed to hear it and see it in the plain light of day if she had any hope of trusting it. It would be far too easy to let her foolish heart get ahead of itself given how she felt about him, and had for a while.
“Okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Night, Javi. Get home safe, okay?”
“I will. Night, corazón.”
At the casual use of the Spanish term of endearment, butterflies exploded in her hollow stomach, making her feel like a giddy teenager with an out of control crush. With the call ended, she replaced her phone on the nightstand and slipped back into bed, wondering how the hell she was supposed to get back to sleep now that Javi had just turned her world completely upside down with a few simple words.
I like you.
Javi was going to kill Dylan and Hunter. He was going to make them run laps wearing garbage bags. He was going to make them run hitting drills until their palms were numb. And then he was going to make them scrape off every single piece of dried up gum stuck to the bottom of the seats in Dell Park with nothing but their fingernails. It would serve them right for dragging him out after last night’s victory and pouring tequila down his throat.
Okay, so the tequila hadn’t exactly been forced. But he felt like absolute ass this morning, and someone was going to pay.
He rolled over in bed, his mouth pasty and his head pounding. His stomach rolled sickly and he let out a muffled groan, his face half buried in his pillow. They’d gone out to celebrate after winning last night’s game. Not only had the win shifted them into first place in their division—that’s right, suck it Astros—but they were currently on one of their longest winning streaks in years. It had been worth celebrating, for sure. But right now, Javi was wishing he’d celebrated just a little bit less.
Thankfully, he didn’t have anywhere to be until this afternoon, so he could take his time getting himself together. He grabbed his phone to check the time, smiling when he saw an unopened text from Aerin waiting for him.
Aerin: How you feeling this morning, slugger?
As his dry, probably bloodshot eyes re-read the message, a memory from last night floated up from the depths of his tequila-soaked brain.
Oh, right.
The phone call.
Screwing his eyes shut, he tried to remember exactly what had happened. He’d been talking about her at the bar. Not naming her, specifically, just talking about this woman he was seeing with Abby, Dylan, Hunter, and Beau. Going on and on and on like a fucking lovesick puppy about how great she was, how sexy and smart she was and how he wanted more from their casual arrangement. The others—except Beau, of course—had all encouraged him to call her and tell her how he felt.
And even though it had been fueled by alcohol and high spirits, he’d meant it. It had felt so damn good to be honest with her. Normally, the idea of opening himself up like that would’ve sent him running in the other direction, but with Aerin, everything felt different. Both new and familiar somehow. Like he’d been looking for her without really knowing it.
But just because he was getting more and more comfortable with his growing feelings for her, that didn’t mean she was on the same page. He knew how skittish she was, and given everything she’d been through, he got it.
He got it, and it made him want her even more. Want them.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he threw the twisted sheets back, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and padded into the kitchen, his footsteps the only sound in the otherwise silent house. The sprawling, four-bedroom bungalow was too big for him, but he’d bought it hoping he’d have the girls here as much as possible. He’d bought it for them, not for himself, making sure they each had a generously sized bedroom and a huge backyard complete with a pool and a treehouse left behind by the previous owners.
But it hadn’t panned out, all because Cara was convinced she was doing the right thing, protecting them from the inevitable disappointment he’d cause. And she was so convinced—so convincing—in her belief that for a while, Javi had started to believe it too. Had started to wonder if maybe all he did was hurt the people he loved. If his main talent was letting them down, all in the name of baseball. But lately, he wasn’t so sure. Yes, he’d made mistakes, but that didn’t mean he was the villain in this story, either. It was something he’d been mulling over ever since sharing his story with Aerin and listening to hers.
Fumbling with the Keurig, he started a cup of coffee brewing and then pulled his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants to text Aerin back.
Javi: Like I’m 42 years old and spent the night drinking with guys in their twenties.
* * *
Aerin: That bad, huh?
* * *
Javi: I’m pretty hungover. But I remember calling you last night. I remember what I said.
* * *
Aerin: Oh you do, do you? You were pretty wasted. I thought you might forget.
* * *
Javi: Nope. Just because I spent the night pickling my liver doesn’t mean I pickled my brain too.
* * *
Aerin: Well, that’s a relief.
* * *
Javi: I meant every word, Aerin.
Javi slid onto one of the stools lining the peninsula in the kitchen, sipping his coffee carefully, testing his uneasy stomach. Although now, as three little dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again, he wasn’t sure if the riot in his guts was from his hangover or from waiting to see what Aerin was going to say now that they were talking about this sober and in the daylight.
Aerin: I guess you’d better take me on a date, then. Lunch today?
He grinned like an idiot as he typed out his answer.
Javi: I’ll pick you up at your office at noon.
* * *
Aerin: Can’t wait.
Neither could he.
The butterflies in Aerin’s stomach were going a little crazy, to the point where she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to eat anything. It felt…odd, to be so excited, so nervous, so filled with adrenaline to be on a first date with a man she’d already slept with multiple times. But somehow this—the casual intimacy of Javi’s hand on her lower back as they were led to their table, being together in public on purpose—was both far more nerve-wracking and exciting than sleeping with him. She felt like a diver about to leap off of a cliff and into the waters below, hoping they were deep and warm. Hoping they were safe.
The restaurant Javi had suggested was a small French bistro that was both bright and cozy. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling, and the walls were covered in a calming light gray brick façade. Square tables were adorned with simple white tablecloths and clear vases with sprigs of lavender bursting from them. The far wall was lined with an impressive wine rack, filled with dusty bottles. Airy jazz wafted in the air, inseparable from the scents of garlic and fresh baked bread.
It felt…sweet. And she and Javi, while they’d done a lot of things, had never done sweet. The newness of it added to her nervous excitement as she took her seat across from him, smoothing her hands over her black and white patterned pencil skirt. A waiter appeared and poured each of them a glass of ice water.
“Would you care to see the wine list?” he asked, proffering it over one arm. Javi visibly paled and Aerin held back a laugh, shaking her head.
“No, thank you. Water is fine.”
“Very good. I’ll give you a few minutes with the menu.” He moved away through the other tables that were quickly filling with the lunchtime rush.
“I didn’t think you’d want any booze,” she said, opening her menu and studying him with one eyebrow arched.
He laughed ruefully and rubbed a hand over his hair. “Good God, no.”
She waited a beat, her eyes reading the menu without her brain actually taking any of it in. “So, um, we should probably talk about this. Since, you know, we agreed to very clear rules and boundaries and now…we seem to be dissolving that contract?”
He nodded, taking a sip of his water. How was it possible for a man who was nursing a killer hangover to still look so delicious? He wore a light gray button-down shirt, open at the collar and tucked into a pair of navy blue pants, all of it emphasizing the athletic physique beneath. “We did, but things changed. At least, they did for me,” he said, holding her gaze. His eyes were the most perfect shade of golden brown, drawing her in. He smiled tentatively, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Why did things change? I’m not saying I’m not happy about it, because I am, I think. I’m just trying to understand.”
“Don’t you think it was a little inevitable? We were spending so much time together, getting to know each other, and…” He shrugged and reached across the table for her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, sending tingles rippling out over her skin. “And I started to see you as more than just a casual hookup. I started to see you as a beautiful, strong, smart, incredibly sexy woman who I wanted in more than just my bed.”
“Wow. Let’s add sweet talker to your list of qualities.”
“It’s only the truth. I want to date you, Aerin. I want to be more than just sex buddies. I know that’s what I asked for originally, but that was before I got to know you.”
“This is a pretty big one-eighty, given that you hated me just a few months ago.”
He frowned, his thumb continuing his slow path back and forth over her skin. “I never hated you. Hate is a really strong word. You drove me a bit crazy, yeah, and you irritated the living crap out of me, but…” He shook his head. “I never hated you. But sometimes I felt like you wanted me to.”
His words caught her off guard, and she took a long drink of her water. Had that been what she’d done? She knew she’d always kept her distance because she was attracted to him and up until Jake and Abby’s wedding, she’d been too scared to ever allow herself to act on that attraction. Maybe she had wanted him to hate her, because hate was so much easier to bear than rejection. And she’d been rejected enough in her life—by her parents, by her ex-husband.
“Sometimes…sometimes I think I push people away because it’s just easier. If I convince myself that they hate me because of something I did on purpose, then…then it’s just easier than thinking I’m unlovable.” The last word came out almost as a whisper, her voice trembling a little.
Javi’s eyebrows knit together and his grip on her hand tightened. “You are not unlovable.”
She bit her lip, nodding slightly. “Objectively, I know that. But between my fucked up childhood and my divorce, it’s just hard…hard to see past all of that and not think I’m to blame since it all happened to me.”
He shook his head, leaning in a bit closer and bringing with him the warm scent of his aftershave. “I’m so sorry that your parents weren’t able to give you the childhood you deserved. That’s super shitty and unfair, and one hundred percent on them, not you. And as for Eric…” He shook his head and then shrugged. “From where I’m sitting right now, I can’t be mad that you guys didn’t work out.” He gave her hand another squeeze, triggering a fresh ripple of butterflies in her stomach. “But I’m sorry for all of the heartache you went through. It’s not fair. But it doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. Your parents’ failings aren’t yours. Eric’s failings aren’t yours.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “And do you believe that? That the failings of others aren’t yours?”
Before he could answer, the waiter reappeared and she hastily skimmed the menu, ordering the sole and the roasted mushroom soup. Javi ordered a steak and handed their menus back to the waiter with a smile. He took both of her hands, looking at her intently across the table.
“I have to be honest; I’ve struggled with that. My ex is fighting me on custody because she says she’s protecting the girls from disappointment. She thinks I let her down and that I’ll only let the girls down. For a while, yeah, I believed it. I held myself back, only let myself pursue totally unavailable women—which used to include you, by the way—because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But now…I don’t know. Being with you makes me question a lot of things, including things I’ve been telling myself about who I am and what I deserve. You make me want more.”
She let out a small, incredulous laugh. “I must be really good in bed.”
He grinned, that sexy wolfish grin that had her squirming in her seat. “You are, but this is about more than that. You make me want to try again, when I swore for so long that I wouldn’t.”
She swallowed thickly and pulled her hands away, taking another sip of water, her mind and heart both reeling.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said softly, his eyes so filled with hope that they made her hope too.
“I’m thinking this is scary, but…” She slid her hand back over the smooth white table cloth and wrapped her fingers around his. “I’d have to be colossally stupid not to want to be with you. I…I’ve wanted you for a long time. Before Jake and Abby’s wedding, it was a physical thing, and then after…after, it was more. I wanted more.”
Javi smiled and leaned forward, closing the distance between them over the table and brushing his lips over hers. “Oh. My. God. Did I just, like, become your boyfriend?” he asked in a hilarious imitation of a Valley Girl.
“Um, only like, totally!” She laughed, her eyes stinging a little.
Soon, their food appeared, and over the most amazing soup she’d ever had, they dismantled their rules, one by one. Feelings were not only allowed, but encouraged. Condoms would stay, with the option to revisit in the future. They would not be dating other people. Sleepovers welcome, cuddling encouraged. Dates would be as regular as their busy schedules permitted.
A while later, Aerin took the last bite of her sole and leaned back in her chair. “I think we’ve completely decimated our original agreement.”
Javi wiped at his mouth with his napkin. “And how does that make you feel?”
She grinned at him. “Like I want to take you back to my place to celebrate.”
Fourteen
Springtime in New York City had always been Aerin’s favorite time of year, in what was still one of her favorite places on the planet. And right now, walking hand in hand with Javi through Central Park, a coffee in hand, the fresh air swirling around them and the late morning sun beaming down on them, the city pulsing with vibrant life, it felt pretty damn near perfect. At the last minute, she’d decided to come with him for the New York leg of his road trip. The Longhorns were in town for a three-game stint against the Yankees before heading to Boston and then Baltimore. She’d decided to join him because her schedule had opened up at the last minute, and it had been a while since she’d seen her brothers. Plus, she did have clients here she could check in with.
She also wasn’t willing to turn down the opportunity to have hot hotel sex with Javi. Javi, who for the past week now, had officially been her boyfriend.
She glanced over at him as they walked, marveling at the perfection of his jawline, his soft lips, his gorgeously athletic frame. He looked like he’d stepped out of an Instagram ad in his Ray Bans, plain white T-shirt and jeans that hugged his ass in just the right way. And he was hers. This smart, funny, caring man had deemed her good enough. She’d shown him her scars and he’d still jumped in with both feet.
It felt a little surreal, honestly. She’d fought for such a long time to keep him at arm’s length, knowing the danger of her attraction to him, and here she was, fingers laced with his, a little sore between her legs from the incredible sex they’d had last night after getting in. Her mind flashed back to the night before, when he’d ripped her underwear off and fucked her against the floor-to-ceiling glass window in their hotel room.
“What are you thin
king about?” he asked, giving her hand a squeeze. She grinned and sipped her coffee.
“The show we gave Midtown last night,” she said, squeezing his hand back. He pulled her closer and looped his arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. The tips of his fingers dipped lower, brushing over her ass as they walked.
“We can give them another one tonight, if you want.” His voice was husky, his lips brushing against her ear. She’d been worried that the intensity of their physical chemistry would fade once they made their relationship official, but so far, things had only gotten hotter between them.
“I’m going to hold you to that.” She took the last sip of her coffee and dropped the cup into a trashcan as they passed, then checked her watch. “We should probably head over to meet Theo now. Are you sure you don’t want to go alone? I won’t be offended.”
“It’s fine. I don’t have anything to hide, and he’s your brother. I emailed him copies of all of the paperwork last week. Hopefully he’s had enough time to go over everything.”
“Knowing Theo, I’m sure he’s gone over it thoroughly, probably more than once.”
He smiled at her. “You always get this look on your face when you talk about him. Like a proud mama bird. It’s sweet.”
She shrugged. “I am proud of him. Our family was pretty messed up, and I tried to shelter him from the worst of it. Out of all of us, he’s the least screwed up. At least, as far as I know. He doesn’t keep trying to throw his entire life away like Sebastian, or work himself to death like Max. And Lucian…” She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure he lives in a hell almost entirely of his own making.”
