by Ann Aguirre
She tilted her head. “Why not? I’m the town bitch, remember? Nobody likes me because I think I’m better than everyone else.”
It didn’t surprise me that she knew what people said about her. Avery had an unpleasant personality, and she was never shy about expressing dissatisfaction. I suspected her attitude might be a front, though I had no idea what it was covering.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be happy.”
For a few seconds, she just stared at me. “Are you for real?”
“Most of the time. Except for Wednesdays, when I’m imaginary.”
The laugh started in her eyes, popped out of her mouth in an actual giggle. When she unwound, Avery wasn’t bad. Didn’t mean I wanted her dating Rob, but maybe she wasn’t as awful as everyone claimed. Just then, our food arrived, curtailing the conversation for a moment. I dug into my pancakes, as it seemed like a long time since lunch.
She played with her salad for a few minutes. “I’m sorry I hit you.”
“Sorry I hit you back. And about the nachos.”
A smirk curved her mouth. “Actually, the whole thing was kind of fun. I’ve never been in a fight before. My parents would die.”
“Not very ladylike,” I admonished. “Think of your dignity, Avery.”
“I will cram my dignity down the throat of the next person who mentions it.”
“Ouch. But I get the feeling you’re not this angry about Rob—that it’s more of a symptom. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Startled, she cocked her head. “Ten minutes ago, you said we’re not friends.”
“No, but we could be. If you want.” The impulsive words surprised me as much as her, but she had such a lonely look there for a minute that I couldn’t help it.
Hesitating, she murmured, “I’m not sure how it works. I stopped making new friends years ago.”
“No offense, but that’s kind of sad.” And that’s coming from someone who finds it a chore to go to a party with new people.
“I know.”
“So explain your deal. Why are you stuck in Sharon and why are you so mad about it?”
She was the kind of girl everyone expected to blast out of town at the speed of light, head to an Ivy League school and never come back unless somebody died. Maybe not even then. Instead, she’d gotten a job at the bank straight out of high school, and she was living at home. From what I remembered, something had happened our senior year, but her family hushed it up and nobody ever knew exactly why she missed two weeks of school.
“It’s my own fault,” she said quietly. “Everything is.”
That was the last thing I expected to hear. “What?”
“Never mind. This was a bad idea.” She stood up, leaving most of her salad untouched.
“Avery?”
“If you seriously want to be my friend, the first thing you’ll learn is not to ask certain questions because I won’t answer.”
“It sounds like you have no friends at all,” I said gently. “Because even I can tell something’s eating at you.”
“I thought Rob might get me out of here, that’s all. Thanks for dinner.”
“Did it ever occur to you that you don’t need a guy for that? You’re more than smart enough to go on your own.”
“Spoken like someone who has no idea.”
“Did Rob?” I asked.
She shook her head, already turning for the door. “Are you kidding? No. It was always easier to focus on his faults than mine. Tell him I’m sorry, by the way. And...I hope you guys can make it work.” With that, she was gone.
Confused as hell, I ate my pancakes in silence. A few minutes later, the waitress brought the check, wearing a conspiratorial look. “Dinner with Avery Jacobs? Did you lose a bet?”
Huh. God, if people talked about me that way all over town, I’d probably turn into exactly what they expected of me—a giant, snarling bitch. My brows went down. “Do you talk about all of your customers like this?”
She flushed. “Sorry. Let me get your change.”
After she brought it, I hurried out to the truck, where I remembered I had no milk. Belatedly I texted my mom back: sorry, something came up.
Rob?
Wow. Where the hell did she find that emoticon? I tilted my head, both revolted and impressed.
We are not having this conversation.
It took some finesse to start the truck in this weather, but I got it running, then I called Rob. “Do you mind if I come by tonight?”
“Please. I miss you.” The simple words took the sting out of the rest of the day, long and confusing as it had been.
We needed to talk about so many things, but right now, Avery seemed the most pressing. I drove carefully from the pancake house out to his place. The trees overhead made it extracreepy, and I heaved a long sigh when I parked outside his house. Before I could get out, the garage opened, and Rob waved me in. Since the space was clean, I didn’t hit anything.
God, he was sweet. He gathered me close as soon as I hopped out. I could’ve stood in his arms forever, but the cold air made me shiver.
“You know you don’t need to call, right? You can come over anytime you want.”
“Yeah?”
Ignoring the rhetorical question, he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it over the top of my head, then led us toward the front door. “Go inside. I’ll close up out here.”
As ever, the house was warm and inviting. First off, I noticed how gorgeous the dining room looked. He’d painted the walls according to sample cards I’d picked out, a sunny hue that complemented the natural wood. Now he had a table in place, and I recognized his handiwork in the craftsmanship. If I knew him at all, his home would end up like a showroom full of samples that people could admire and covet, just as I had with his bed.
You’re smarter than anyone gives you credit for. Even you.
“Beautiful,” I said as he closed the door behind me.
“I was just thinking that.” Only I could tell he wasn’t talking about the room.
I fought a blush. When I turned, getting my first good look at him, I stumbled in shock. “What happened?”
“Oh, this?” Sheepish, he touched a hand to his split and swollen lip. “Avery came by earlier. I thought she wanted to talk, but she popped me in the mouth and stomped off.”
“Wow. Well, I don’t think you’ll have any problems with her in the future.”
Alarmed amusement flickered in his expression. “You didn’t kill her, did you?”
Quietly I summed up the encounter, and he touched my cheek gently, tilting my face toward the light. “God, I’m sorry she went off. Our breakup wasn’t your fault.”
“I wasn’t sorry about it, and I didn’t exactly wait the usual cooling-off period before I was making out with you in public.”
“You’re exaggerating that kiss,” he chided.
“I’m not. You don’t even know how long I waited for it.”
“Since I just finished The Fallen Throne, I think I do.”
Oh, God. “You kept reading that?”
“Every word. It’s my favorite book now.”
The quip nearly popped out—how many books have you read? Meant as self-deprecation, but that wasn’t how Rob would take it. So I swallowed the urge to take refuge in humor as a defense mechanism. With him, it was worth some discomfort to meet my emotions head-on.
“I am awash in humiliation,” I said honestly. “But...I’m happy, too, because you actually liked my adolescent ramblings.”
“It helps that I’m the star.” He brushed his lips tenderly against my temple.
A shiver ran through me, and I rose up on tiptoes to give the kiss back. I placed it on the sharp curve of his jaw. God, he has a gorgeous profile. Objectivel
y speaking, I wasn’t hot enough for people to understand why he’d want me. I still couldn’t believe he did.
“You missed a spot.” He pointed to the other side of his face, and I nuzzled him.
His lashes drifted down, giving him a sleepy, sexy look. Then he pulled me closer, leaving no doubt as to how he felt. I pressed against him with a little whimper. Impossible to believe this is Rob and me. His hands drifted to my hips.
“You’re making it really hard to take things slow.”
I grinned. “I could say the same.”
Rob cleared his throat and stepped back. “So...” That reminded me of why I was here. Not for sex.
Please, sex? No, I’m being patient. Dammit.
“Right. I really came by to ask...do you mind if I make friends with Avery? Would that be weird for you?” In the name of honesty, I had to add, “Even if it is, I’ll probably do it anyway. But it’ll be over your noted objections.”
“I guess I’m wondering why, more than anything. She can be...difficult.” That was such a Rob way to put it.
“She seems really alone. And I don’t know—I guess it feels like Jillian wins if her making shit up results in Avery hating me forever. I want something good to come out of that badness. Does that make any sense?”
“Yeah. I hope you can get through to her. God knows I never did.” He struggled to find the words, but not in a way that seemed to trouble him. “With us, it seemed like she was always playing a role, performing even when we were alone.”
“I know all about that,” I muttered.
High school had been a nightmare. The first two years, I was sick so much, I nearly got held back. But it wasn’t an illness a doctor could cure, though therapists tried. Only my mom yelling about emotional trauma in her housecoat convinced the principal to let me do summer school instead. After my sophomore year, I decided, no more. No more of this. I hate Lauren Barrett, I hate everything about her. So I changed her clothes, her attitude, her hair, her fear, pulled myself into a different shape and lived in that skin for five long years. I rarely wrote fan fiction, stopped playing on the computer for hours. The worst thing about that? Nobody questioned it. Nobody—not even Nadia—said, Wow, what’s wrong? You’re not yourself. It was more like everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief and thought, Thank God, she’s finally normal.
“You don’t do it, though. Not with me.”
“That’s because you’re my safe place, Rob. You always have been.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes kindling to an electric-blue that curled my toes. “That’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“It’s the truth,” I said.
“I know.” He reached for me then, and I settled against his chest; it felt like coming home after a long journey. “And in case it wasn’t clear, I don’t mind about Avery.”
Since she’d just punched him in the mouth over something he didn’t do, that comment spoke volumes about the type of guy Rob was. I slipped my arms around his waist and hugged him, inhaling his rich, layered scent. Other guys might smell of expensive cologne, but he was all wood dust and the faint chemical scent of the product he used to seal the floors. There was also a touch of mint from his soap each time he moved his hands on my back, making me think he’d just washed them.
“Thanks. I was wondering...would you be open to an idea I’ve been kicking around?”
“Depends on what it is.” He ran a gentle hand through my hair, covering me in shivers from head to toe.
Focus. He’s not trying to get you hot. It just happens. Or maybe he was. Teasing me. He was turned on before, and now that I was holding him again, it was evident he still hadn’t calmed down. His desire to take his time was both flattering and frustrating when I contemplated all the delicious, dirty things we could do together instead.
“Now who’s a distraction?” I accused.
He actually grinned. “Then my plan’s working?”
“If you’re trying to drive me crazy, I’m halfway there.” As I drew away, I ran my fingers down his chest.
A visible tremor went through him as his hands clenched into fists, showing off the veins and tendons, along with the sexy swell of his biceps. I fought the urge to bite him. Rob’s gaze met mine and I forgot to breathe.
He cleared his throat.
“What...what did you want to ask me?”
“You know how you want to design and build furniture? We can get going without a lot of start-up capital.”
The question seemed to divert him from the sexual tension, at least. To most people, his expression wouldn’t give anything away, but I noticed the sharpening of his focus, a minute tilt of the head, the narrowing of his eyes. “I’m listening.”
With effort, I quashed the desire to get him naked immediately and explained my plan to build him a website with a simple merchant system. “You can post pictures of what you’ve built, then customers can request a similar item. I was also thinking it makes sense for you to start a YouTube channel for cross-promotion of the business. We’ll need a catchy name for your ‘show’...you can talk about furniture, woodworking, renovations on your house—”
Setting two fingers against my mouth to silence me, he cut in, “Wait, slow down. Why would anyone care?”
It was beyond me to resist the urge to kiss his fingertips. Smiling, Rob let go.
He might not like hearing this, but... “Don’t underestimate the interest in hot people on the internet.”
“Seriously? You think my face will make people care what I have to say? It hasn’t at any point in the last twenty-five years.”
“I care,” I said quietly. “Besides, these are strangers with no preconceptions. They’ll start watching because, hello, look at you, but it’s your message that will make them come back.”
For a few moments, he paced, wearing a thoughtful, conflicted expression. I could tell he thought I was wrong about the potential demand for his skills. But Rob had no ability to gauge his own self-worth. Hardly breathing, I waited for his response.
With a sigh, he finally nodded. “If you think it could sell furniture, let’s try it.”
I understood how big of a leap that was for him. He hated the idea of using his looks to get anywhere, but people wouldn’t order a table just because he was gorgeous. They might watch his video channel for that reason...and if he got enough hits, they could be monetized. But we’d talk about secondary revenue streams another time. This was enough for today.
“Awesome. I’ll head home and start building the site. I can come back tomorrow to record the vlog, if you don’t have plans?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be working on the kitchen.”
I remembered what he’d said about wanting the dining room done before he finished. “What are you planning to do?”
Fierce enthusiasm fired his words, and as I listened, I realized this was exactly what we needed for his first vlog. I could already imagine it, and if I came back early enough, I could film him working, too. A hot guy with a hammer, ripping cabinets out of the wall would get a ton of hits from a certain demographic. I was less sure if they’d actually order furniture, but even a few sales would boost his confidence.
I hadn’t slept over since the night he told me about his dad, mostly because the temptation of sleeping next to Rob was way more than I could handle. I’d already perved out on him once, and I didn’t intend to rush him into sex. When we took this to the next level, it had to be his choice, all-in. The timing was already weird because of his breakup with Avery, so if he needed space, I could give it to him.
“Okay, see you in the morning.” I stretched up on tiptoe to brush my lips against his cheek, mostly because I’d gotten my fill of being seduced by centimeters. But Rob had other ideas; he circled my waist with his arms and l
ifted me onto the dining-room table.
“Not so fast, beautiful.” He kissed me in a way that left me no doubt as to how much he wanted me, as if the point hadn’t been made already several times tonight.
You’re killing me.
His bruised mouth seared mine with heat and longing, and he tasted me so thoroughly that I forgot all my plans. His split lip flavored the kiss faintly of copper, and I traced my tongue over the swelling, butterfly-gentle. Sinking my hands into his hair, I kissed him back and wrapped my legs around his hips. He skimmed his palms down my sides, up and down, until I thought I’d die if I didn’t take my coat off. As if he’d read my mind, Rob unzipped it and slid warm hands under my sweater. The contrast of his rough palms against my skin sent a shiver through me. For a few seconds, he only touched my sides, my stomach, and I was sixteen again, squirming with the need for a guy to round second base. My nipples peaked with each scrape of his fingertips, teasing higher as he nuzzled the side of my neck.
“Please,” I whispered.
My sweater was retro, buttons down the front, and he gazed at my face for a few seconds before he undid them, one by one. I was shivering by the time he bared my bra, a nice one, thank God: black satin, front-fastening. Somehow, it was incredibly hot to be perched on his dining-room table, jacket still on, skirt, tights, shoes...yet undone, as well. This felt...naughty.
“Want me to?”
Wordless, I nodded.
He unhooked my bra, baring my breasts. My jacket and sweater framed them, and I felt—for once in my life— beautiful enough to be photographed, an erotic display. And it was all for him. His eyes flared as if he shared the thought. A dark flush swept his cheekbones as he lowered his head, bringing my nipple to his mouth. The first lick made me cry out, and when he used his teeth, I tangled my hands in his hair.
“Rob,” I breathed.
“Be still. Let me taste you.”
“Mhm.”
I couldn’t have argued if my life had depended on it. He sucked and licked, bit gently, back and forth, until both throbbed with equal need. Longing shivered through me, so sharp it sank its teeth in like pain, but I couldn’t stand for him to stop. Then, unbelievably, he did, with a final kiss to each of my nipples.
