Well this is an interesting turn of events. My current status? I have a drunk Elise sitting next to me in the cab of my dark SUV as we cruise toward her apartment across town.
Elise, resting her head against the headrest, inhales audibly, letting her breath out slowly. “It smells like you in here.”
I make a confused face. “Ah … my hockey bag’s in the back, so I’m guessing that’s not a compliment.” Hockey equipment is about the worst smelling thing you can imagine, and I’m about to mutter an apology when she shakes her head.
“No. It smells like your cologne. Hermès Woods, right?”
I nod. How the fuck does she know what kind of cologne I wear?
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
She stares out the window, lost in thought while I focus on not fucking crashing the car. This is a bit surreal being alone with her after all this time, and Owen’s words of warning ring through my head.
I’ve been half hard since she followed me out of the bar, as if my dick remembers the last time we were alone together, and he’s ready to be moved from the bench and be put in the game. And the fact that she’s still sitting there breathing in my scent like it’s her own personal version of heaven isn’t helping things.
Us alone together plus alcohol was how everything got so fucked up last time. I can’t let myself repeat our mistakes. I just told her brother that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. And I’m every form of bad that could possibly happen to her. But damn if I don’t like having her close. I’m tempted to slow the car just to draw out my time with her. Weird, I know.
Satisfied with the radio station she’s found, she stops fiddling with the controls and sits back in her seat, hands resting on her thighs.
“So this breakup…” I attempt small talk. “You okay?”
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I’m fine. And you don’t have to pretend you’re worried about me.”
Pretend? Is she high right now?
I know full well that I’m responsible for some, fuck most, of the turmoil in her life over the past few months, and I hate the thought that I’m responsible for this too.
She’s the one bright spot in my life, and I can’t handle knowing she’s sad. I would make it my personal mission in life to make her happy if I could. Especially since I know I’m at least partly responsible for her heartbreak.
I pull the car to the side of the road, and turn to face her, hands still gripping the wheel so I don’t do anything stupid like reach over and touch her.
“I’m not pretending, Elise. I care about you. I always have. Now let’s try this again. Are you okay?” I enunciate each word slowly, letting them sink in.
She bites her lower lip and nods, those huge gray eyes locked on mine. “I’m okay.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that she doesn’t say I’m good, or I’m great, or I’m fine. She’s okay. I need her to be a hell of a lot better than okay. But at least she’s talking to me. It’s a start, I guess.
I inhale deeply and pull the car back onto the road after checking my mirrors. She smells so good. Like body wash and Elise—like fresh air and sunshine, and those lemon cocktails she had. Fuck, I want to kiss her.
Instead, I start rambling. “I never met the guy, but for what it’s worth, your brother said you were way too good for him.”
Elise grins. “Did he now?”
I nod. “Yeah. And he said that the dude was a douche canoe.” Owen did not say that, but you can’t make me take it back for all the money in the world, not with the way Elise lets out a giggle and covers her mouth with her hand. That sound leaving her lips dissolves all the tension in the car.
“Thanks, Justin.”
I swallow down a strange wave of emotion. Man, it feels so good just to be here with her in this moment, talking, laughing. God, I’ve fucking missed this. I’ve missed her friendship more than anything. It’s taken me this exact moment with her laughing beside me to realize just how much I’ve missed it. I have so many regrets, but losing her as a friend is definitely the biggest.
Our moment over, I focus on the road and getting Elise home safe. It’s the least I can do.
“Oh my God, Taco Casa! We have to stop!” Elise calls out beside me, pointing to the neon-lit sign of the fast food restaurant up ahead.
I chuckle and slow the car, pulling into the parking lot at her command.
“Thank you,” she groans. “I never had dinner. I need something more than those dumplings to soak up all this alcohol if I’m going to be teaching America’s youth in the morning.”
I shake my head, and chuckle again, pulling up to the window to order. “Yeah, I’m starved too.”
Elise gives me her order, and I double everything, right down to the hot sauce and iced tea.
She smiles at me, and shyly tucks her hair behind one ear. Something about that strikes me. She was never shy around me before.
After we order our food, I insist on paying, and then we drive to her place. When we pull up out front, Elise turns to me.
“You want to come inside and eat?”
I know I should say no. There are literally ten thousand reasons why this would be a terrible idea. But tonight’s the first time I’ve seen her laugh in months. If she’s nursing a broken heart, I should be there to cheer her up, right? Or make sure she doesn’t choke on her food. Damn, the lies I’m willing to tell myself are getting a little ridiculous—even for me.
Yet I follow her inside, carrying the bag of tacos while she holds onto the cups of iced tea. Her place is cute and really girly. I’ve been here once or twice with Owen. It’s much cleaner than our bachelor pad. It smells a lot better too. There’s a pink and orange rug in a sunburst pattern under her gray couch and framed photos on the walls of her family. My gaze lingers on the picture of her parents, smiling at each other. Together we head to the couch and each unwrap a taco.
At the first bite, Elise lets out a soft groan. “Oh my God, why are these so good?”
I take a bite of my own and wipe my mouth with one of the two thousand napkins they gave us. “It’s fucking amazing. You know what this reminds me of?”
She squints at me, but shakes her head.
My lips twitch with a smile. “My senior year of high school. You were, God, you were what, in eighth grade?”
She nods, and takes another small bite, still watching me.
“Owen and I skipped practice to smoke weed, and we got a whole bunch of tacos and hung out in your parents’ basement all afternoon.”
She must remember the day I’m referring to, because suddenly she starts laughing behind a napkin.
“Your parents got home from work and …”
She stops me, raising one hand, still chuckling. “And I immediately told on you guys. I never said sorry for that, did I?”
I shake my head. “It’s all good, E-class. I’ve never held it against you. Even though I got grounded for like a month after that.”
Elise looks away from me and takes a long drink of her iced tea, setting down her half-eaten taco on its paper wrapper. “I’m feeling a lot better thanks to this greasy goodness. Tomorrow I can face my students hangover free. Thanks, Justin.”
“No problem.” I finish my food, and wipe my hands on the napkin. It grows quiet between us, and I’m not sure if I should go or what. But fuck, I’m not ready to leave.
She tucks her hair behind one ear, looking contemplative. God, that hair. Those silky dark waves. I remember exactly what it feels like when my fingers are threaded through it. I remember the smell of her shampoo and how it felt dragging over my chest when she kissed a path along my neck.
I clear my throat, forcing the thoughts away. “You sure you’re okay about the breakup?”
She nods. “I’m sure. Thanks though. Sweet of you to ask.” She gives me a half-smile, but I’ll take it. She hasn’t smiled at me in so long.
But sweet? Me? Yeah, no. Sweet is not an adjective I’d use to describe a guy who takes the v-card of a girl he’s known all of his life and then disappears like a coward. That’s the exact fucking opposite of sweet. A jerkface is more like it.
“What about you?” Elise asks, drawing me from my thoughts.
“What about me?” Is she seriously asking if I’m dating anyone? Isn’t the answer to that question obvious? I don’t date. I fuck around. Isn’t that what everyone expects anyway?
Elise bites her lip and takes another sip of her drink. “Your relationship status … Still loving the bachelor lifestyle?”
I consider her question for a moment. The media blows my love-life out of proportion. I never thought Elise of all people would buy into the hype. But I like that she’s actually asking me directly and not assuming like everyone else does.
But Elise also knows the shit-storm of my parents’ divorce, and how it’s made me gun-shy about relationships.
“I guess I just haven’t found the right girl yet. And even though I’ve never been the relationship-type, part of me wonders if maybe it’s time to grow up.” I don’t mean to be so honest with her, but I’m not lying. It’s not something I’ve ever had before, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.
I can’t tell if my response surprises her, but she doesn’t say anything else. And I know I should, but I can’t make myself get up and go just yet. Instead I do the one thing I know I shouldn’t, I move closer to her on the couch.
Huge gray eyes look up at mine, and fuck, I’m done. I’m done resisting this girl, with her sweet personality and her quick wit. I’m all wrong for her, but she’s gorgeous and I want this. So fucking badly. Or maybe I just want redemption. Either way, I can’t go on like this.
She doesn’t want to talk about what happened, but I’m more of a take action kind of guy anyway.
I lower my mouth toward hers and Elise parts her lips as my mouth meets hers in a slow, tentative kiss.
Her shaky breath ghosts over my lips as I go back in for more, deepening our connection and coaxing her tongue out to touch mine.
Fuck. It’s electric. I stifle a groan and thread my fingers in the hair at the back of her neck.
She kisses me back and I’m in heaven. The taste of her, the softness of her lips eagerly moving under mine, brings me right back to the first night we kissed in my bedroom. The quiet sounds she makes, the feel of her trembling fingers skimming along my chest…nothing has ever felt more right. I feel so many things in this moment, I can’t even put it into words. The rush of adrenaline. An intense pressure in my groin. She’s kissing me. Open mouthed and hungry. I stroke her tongue with mine, and she makes a low sound in her throat. The noise is something in between a moan and a sigh of relief, and the skin on the back of my neck tingles.
But then, two firm hands are pushing against my chest.
I stop immediately and put some space between us. The air around us is charged with pheromones and desire and I miss the warmth of her body heat close to mine, but I have no other choice than to respect her need for space.
My eyes meet hers, trying to read what she’s thinking. I would never want her to feel threatened or unsure about the physical contact between us. But even as I meet her eyes, I come up blank.
“We can’t,” she says, breathless. Her fingers touch her lips and her eyes are two huge pools of worry.
My heart stops and I give her a shaky nod. “I know.”
I should regret pushing her into a kiss, but I don’t. It’s never been about winning with her, and I’m not playing a game. All I need is one more shot at redemption, and I’m determined to get it.
