Читать книгу Not Until You - Roni Loren, Roni Loren - Страница 8

Chapter 3

I stood in front of my freezer, contemplating the uninspiring microwaveable meals and letting the frosty air wash over my still-burning skin. I’d changed out of my graduation outfit into a tank top and pajama bottoms, but I couldn’t seem to cool my temperature or get my heart to stop pounding. My two hot-as-sin neighbors had flirted with me, invited me over.

I hadn’t imagined that, right?

Maybe I had. Picking up the signals when a guy was interested had never been my strong suit. My stay away from boys at all costs rules as a teenager along with my all-girls Catholic high school had left me with an emaciated female intuition. And any boys that came around the house were scared off by either my father or brother.

Maybe Foster and Pike had just been joking around—or worse, teasing me. They had called me a college kid after all. I’d seen some of the girls who’d made the walk of shame out of their apartment. They certainly didn’t look anything like me. Maybe all the innuendo I’d read into the brief conversation had been my hormones inserting my own hopes into their words.

I groaned and slammed the freezer door. Like I’d act on a sexual invitation anyway. I hadn’t done anything more than kiss someone since starting grad school. And I didn’t even know these guys, not really. And there were two of them.

My body quivered at the thought, and a hot ache pulsed between my thighs. I collapsed onto one of the stools lining the breakfast bar. “Good Lord, what is wrong with me?”

I uncapped the bottle of tequila I’d left on the counter and poured a shot into a juice glass, then lifted it. “Happy graduation to me.”

I kicked back the shot, the alcohol burning like liquid lightning on the way down. My face scrunched up as I tried not to cough. Wow. Maybe that’s why you were supposed to do those with salt and lime.

As the fire cooled in my throat, I looked around my empty apartment, wondering what to do for the next few hours, because I sure as hell was too wired to go to bed. Every night was usually spent in front of my books, eating takeout, and studying. But now every test had been passed, every class completed. This chapter of my life was done.

Sadness flickered through me.

The “find yourself” years were rolling in my rearview. Real life was here, waiting for me to claim my spot as a responsible adult.

In a few weeks I’d be back in the vet office I’d grown up in, but now my name would be on the placard next to my father’s. I’d get my own patients, my own house. I’d eat dinner with my parents a few nights a week and probably date Michael Ruiz. My former high school boyfriend had been the only one to make it past the test with my father, and that was only because my family had been friends with his since the beginning of time. Michael had made it no secret that he was happily awaiting my return to Verde Pass. He’d even sent me a bouquet of daisies for graduation. Such a nice guy.

Nice. Polite. Just like the rest of my life.

I traced her finger around the rim of my glass, the droning hum of the freezer a mind-numbing soundtrack to my thoughts. My whole future was stretched out before me—a dot-to-dot picture with a set path I’d known I would follow for as long as I could remember. One I’d never thought to question growing up. But now that it was staring me in the face, a ribbon of regret threaded through my already melancholy mood, darkening the trajectory of my thoughts.

Grad school was supposed to be my big adventure. Single girl in a big city, experiencing life for the first time without my father staring over my shoulder. I’d fought like hell to even have the chance to go to school in Dallas, had come up with an argument to present to my parents that would’ve impressed a trial lawyer. In the end, the fact that my older brother was here had saved me. And to his credit, Andre had mostly stayed out of my business.

It’d been the first true stand for independence that I’d won.

And what had I done with the opportunity after all the struggle to get out here to Dallas? Not a damn thing. I’d been the obedient daughter and studious student like I’d always been. I’d even gone to Sunday mass every now and again. I’d said no to all the parties. I’d gone on a few dates, but never with anyone I was truly interested in. Hell, I’d been in Dallas for four years and the shot of tequila warming my belly was my very first.

With a rush of frustration, I poured another shot and tipped it back—the sting no softer than the first time, but the heat fueling the call of rebellion within me.

Enough of this bull. Drinking alone in an empty apartment and pining over my neighbors was freaking pathetic. I deserved a real graduation celebration. I only had a few weeks left here to get a taste of all that I’d never experienced. It was now or never. If I screwed up royally or embarrassed myself, I’d be gone soon anyway. My friends and family back home would be none the wiser.

With renewed resolve and a little liquid courage, I capped the tequila and grabbed a notepad off the refrigerator to write down a list I never thought I’d be putting into print. Just seeing the words glide from the pen had my throat constricting. The first two attempts didn’t work. I scratched out and reworded a few things, my hand shaking with adrenaline and nerves. But then it was too messy. And I didn’t do messy. I balled up the first few sheets and tossed them in the trash, then got it right on the third time. Nice little block letters forming statements I didn’t even have the guts to say aloud. Done.

I stared at the list and took a deep breath, the neat plan of my life getting tucked away into the back of my brain for now. I folded the page in half, making a crease, and tore off the bottom half. I slipped that portion in my kitchen drawer, but kept the other half in my hand.

“One, two, three, don’t look down,” I muttered, repeating an old mantra from my childhood diving classes, as I slid off the stool. Hopefully, I wouldn’t drown.

Before blind panic could take me over, I grabbed the liquor bottle, toed on my flip-flops, and headed out the door.

It was only four steps to apartment 3G, but it seemed my blood pressure had reached near-stroke rate by the time I lifted my hand to knock on the door. Even then, I almost spun on my heel and scampered back to the safety of my quiet apartment where everything was normal and predictable.

And boring.

And lonely.

I knocked.

For a few moments I didn’t hear anything, and I wondered if they weren’t going to come to the door. Maybe it was a sign from the universe that I had no business being here, that I’d truly lost my mind. Because really, I probably had. But then there were voices and the shift of the lock, and my muscles seemed to turn to stone. The door swung open, Pike and the scent of pizza greeting me. He leaned against the doorjamb, looking edible in his tight black tee and worn jeans. His mouth curved upward, and I forgot to breathe for a second. Oh crap, how was I going to go through with this?

He glanced down at my outfit and the tequila tucked under my arm. “Well, hi again, doc. Changed your mind?”

“I, uh …”

“Cela?” Foster appeared a few steps behind Pike, his hair wet and his chest bare. Oh, blessed, blessed Lord. My eyes automatically shifted downward, drinking in the real view of what I’d only imagined the many nights I’d listened to him through the wall—broad shoulders, honed pecs, and an abdomen so lickable that the sight of it made my tongue press to the back of my teeth. I knew I should look up, say something, but my gaze snagged lower, following the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his low-slung track pants.

God help me. He was even prettier than my imagination had conjured—and my imagination had been aiming for the outfield already. Every feminine molecule in my body seemed to lurch toward him, my fingers aching to trace the lines of muscles he’d been hiding beneath his suits, to lick off the water droplets that had fallen from his hair onto his shoulders. My body went into full, rolling boil.

I clenched the bottle of liquor like it was a life raft. “Hi. Um. Yeah. So I decided I really was hungry, and I’ll never drink this much alcohol myself, and I know y’all are probably settled in for the night now and don’t want company, and I don’t know if y’all really wanted me over or if you were just being nice …” Shut up, shut up, shut up. “But if you weren’t just being nice and wanted to share me—”

Pike’s eyebrows lifted.

My face flamed. Oh God, had I just said that? “I mean, share the tequila with me, then well, here it is and if not then that’s fi—”

Pike pressed two fingers to my mouth, the touch shocking me into silence. “Take a breath, doc. We still have pizza, we will always accept free liquor, and we will never turn down good company.”

My shoulders sagged, mortification bleeding through me. Way to be smooth. If they really had been flirting with me earlier, they were probably regretting that decision now. Warning: Awkward girl, straight ahead. I wet my lips when Pike lowered his hand, inadvertently tasting the salt his touch had left behind. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Is she intruding, Foster?” Pike asked, still looking at me.

I peered past Pike’s shoulder. Foster’s gaze was unwavering, making it near impossible to hold the eye contact. Maybe he didn’t want me there after all. I glanced at my feet, but then heard the low notes of his voice. “Of course not. I don’t extend invitations I don’t mean.”

Hot goose bumps chased over my skin, something in his firm tone making me shiver.

Pike’s smile was pure warmth. He leaned over and took the tequila from me. “Come on in, doc. Foster decided to jump in the shower before eating, so there’s still lots of pizza left.”

“Thanks.” I stepped inside and when Pike shut the door behind me, I had the distinct feeling of the safety net of my existence ripping to shreds beneath me.

“I’m going to get us a few glasses,” Pike said, veering toward the kitchen.

Foster glanced to the left toward the open bedroom door, then back to me, his expression unreadable. “Make yourself at home, Cela, and help yourself to pizza. I’ll be right back.”

I moved around the breakfast bar and down the short hall toward the living area. The apartment was similar to mine, but the kitchen and living space weren’t open to each other. Plus, this was the bigger two-bedroom version and had a decidedly more masculine decor. The couches were leather, the furniture sleek and modern, and the artwork on the walls black and white photography. The stuff looked refined and expensive, like it should be in some high-rise loft downtown instead of in my modest apartment complex.

I took a seat along the side of the ginormous wall-mounted TV, and a spaceship flew across the screen, the surround sound vibrating in her ears. Uh-oh. Panic flitted through me when I remembered Pike’s words from downstairs. Had he not been kidding about the Star Wars porn?

Pike sauntered into the living room, setting the liquor, a few beers, and a couple of glasses on the coffee table, his triceps flexing beneath his gorgeous tattoos as he arranged everything. He glanced up at me, frowned. “You okay?”

I ventured a peek at the television, saw Harrison Ford, and let out a breath. No Star Wars porn. Just straight-up Star Wars. “Yep, I’m fine.”

“Liar,” he teased, handing me a paper plate with a slice of pizza. “You’re so tense, you’re almost vibrating. And that’s after”—he eyed the tequila—“at least a couple of shots of liquor.”

I sighed, forcing my neck from side to side, trying to slough off my anxious state. “I’m sorry. It’s been a really long day. And I think graduation affected me more than I expected.”

“Is that right?” Foster asked, coming back into the living room wearing a soft gray T-shirt that covered his skin but not the peaks and valleys of the man beneath. He slipped between the couch and my chair, his fresh soap scent drifting over me, and took the spot on the love seat across from me. “How so?”

I took a bite of pizza, taking a moment to gather myself so I wouldn’t start rambling again. They were just two guys. Yes, they were beautiful and sexy and had starred in too many of my fantasies, but I was a woman who had just graduated at the top of her very competitive class. I was capable of coherent speech. Mostly.

I swallowed my bite and attempted a shrug that said yep, I’m carefree and totally at ease, fellas. “Well, it’s something I’ve been working at for seven years.”

“Seven?” Foster interrupted.

“I got into vet school a year early.”

“Of course.” He made some face akin to a scowl, but covered it so fast I couldn’t be sure.

“And so I’ve had my eye on this one prize, this one goal. And now it’s done.”

“But that’s good, right?” Pike asked, peeling off a pepperoni and popping it into his mouth. “Wasn’t that the point? God knows I was happy to finally scrape through my four years.”

“Sure. It’s great,” I said, mustering up some semblance of a smile. “But I realized I’ve done little else besides work on that goal. These were supposed to be the fun times before I went back home to south Texas to settle down and work in my father’s practice. But I’ve lived here for four years and have spent ninety-five percent of it either in class, studying, or sleeping.”

“Now that,” Pike said, pointing at me with his pizza, “is a goddamned tragedy.” He looked to Foster. “It’s a good thing we invited her over, dude, because we were like three days away from her going all The Shining on us.”

I laughed. “I’m not quite that bad off.”

“No, I’m serious. I can see the ax in the door now. All work and no play can only lead to homicide.”

Pike’s grin was infectious, and some of the tightness in my chest eased a bit. “So really having me over is a self-defense move on your part, then?”

“Completely selfish,” Foster agreed, his own smile finally peeking through at the corners of those stark blue eyes.

Pike leaned forward and tossed his grease-stained paper plate onto the coffee table, then rubbed his hands together. “So, now we’ve got a big responsibility on our hands. We have to make sure your first night away from school is a killer one—and not in an ax-swinging kind of way. Pizza and Star Wars aren’t going to cut it.”

“No, really. This is fine,” I said, waving him off.

“Nah, come on. I’m not letting you off that easy. We were supposed to play Never Have I Ever. Anything you’ve never done that you’re dying to do?”

The list I’d written seemed to warm in my pocket. I shrugged, my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth.

Foster glanced at the clock on the cable box. “It’s still early. We could take you out to celebrate in style. Pike can get into any club within a hundred-mile radius once he tells them he’s the drummer in Darkfall.”

Pike sniffed. “And Foster can bribe us into the swankier ones that want to keep me out for the same reason.”

I glanced down at my outfit. “I’m not dressed for that. And I know y’all didn’t have plans to go out tonight.”

“Plans can change,” Pike said.

I pressed my lips together, my logical side telling me to call it a night, stop while I was ahead. But the thought of going out with these two, possibly dancing with them, had my pulse climbing. “I’ll need more alcohol before either of you can convince me to dance in public.”

Pike laughed. “That can be arranged. You up for it, Foster?”

Foster looked at me, his blue-eyed gaze seeming to penetrate right through all my attempts at a calm facade. “You sure you want to spend your big night with the two of us, Cela?”

The question and his tone seemed to hold more layers than the simple words he’d said. And for a second I wondered if he knew what I’d been thinking, knew why I’d talked myself into coming over here in the first place, knew about that list tucked against my hip. But of course, there was no way he could know all that.

I met his stare head on, my bravery building like a staircase beneath my feet, one tentative step after the other until I could see the door to the unknown rising before me, beckoning me to open it. My chest rose and fell with a steadying breath. “I couldn’t think of two better guys to spend the night with.”

His jaw twitched and something feral flashed through his eyes as he stood. “All right, Cela. Then go back to your apartment, put on something for dancing, and meet us downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

The authority in his voice scattered my thoughts like dry leaves on a windy day. I scrambled to gather them back together. “Fifteen minutes? But I’ll need to redo my makeup and do something with my hair.”

“No.” He walked toward me, frowning in a way that cut off my words. “You don’t need any of that. You look great already.”

“Agreed,” Pike chimed in.

I rose to my feet, feeling vulnerable and quivery with Foster looming over me. “Thanks, but—”

He reached out, his hand going to the back of my head, and my words got log jammed in my throat. He tugged at the clip I’d twisted my hair into, and released it, letting my hair tumble down my back.

“And wear your hair down,” he said, pressing the clip into my hand as he bent forward. His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “I want to be able to run my fingers through it when we’re dancing.”

All air evaporated from my lungs.

He backed away and smiled casually, as if he’d simply informed me of the weather forecast. “See you in fifteen, neighbor.”

I clutched the clip to my stomach, not trusting myself to respond, and turned toward the door. I had to be having a dream. I’d dozed off on my couch and was spinning erotic fantasies in my sleep.

But when I got back to my apartment and pinched my arm, everything was still the same.

Everything except me.