No! my mind screams. Stop thinking that way. Geez, a guy gives me a few orgasms, and all I can think about is his hands on me. My stomach does its all-too-familiar thud. What if that’s all he’s thinking about and that’s all he’s interested in? Maybe I’m a booty call.
No. I refuse to believe that. Not after he spent hours talking to me last night and telling me all the good and bad parts of his past. He held my hand almost the entire time. And he called himself my boyfriend in the pub. Holding up a thin sweater to see how wrinkled it is, I wonder if he meant that or if was he just kidding in front of my friends.
God. Men are difficult.
Sighing, I pull on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt and tie a long-sleeved flannel shirt around my waist in case I get chilly. He already knows how short I am, so I slip into black combat boots instead of something with a high heel.
My phone rings as I’m heading out the door, and I know it must be Ditra because no one else calls me. I hesitate at the door, debating whether I should answer it or not, and then let my answering machine pick it up.
“Piper…” Her voice comes over the speaker. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. You can’t avoid me, and you know it. You have to call me and tell me all about your mystery man. Oh, and I had sex with Mitch last night. He had the smallest dick I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m not even sure it classified as sex; it was that small. So—”
Beep. The answering machine clicks and cuts her off. Immediately, the phone starts to ring, and I laugh when the machine picks up again.
Her voice fills my room again. “Your stupid machine cut me off. Anyway, you better call me. Love ya.”
I make a promise to call her later when I’m back home. I’m hoping after spending some time with Evan today, I’ll have an idea of what we actually are to each other. Then I won’t have to answer Ditra’s cross-examination with vague answers.
He smiles when he sees me approaching the picnic table, and I think it should be illegal for another person to be able to flip my insides all upside down the way he does.
His smile falters to a slight frown when I hand him one of the lattes I’m holding.
“I got us bagels, too,” I say, sitting next to him at the table. “And I stopped at the pet place and picked up some dog biscuits for Acorn.” At the mention of his name, the dog’s ears perk up and he looks at me expectantly.
“Do you want a cookie?” I ask him, taking one of the bone-shaped biscuits out of the bag. He takes it gently from my hand and crawls under the table to eat it in private.
“What?” I ask, noticing the odd look on Evan’s face.
His voice is flat. “Don’t try to take care of us, Piper.”
“I’m not… I’m just being nice.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. But we’re fine.”
“Okay.” The happiness I felt a moment ago fades and morphs into embarrassment. I push the bag with our bagels in it away from us and take a sip of my coffee.
“Piper… hey.” He moves closer to me until his leg presses against mine. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”
“I’m fine.” I smile and push my hair out of my face. “Really.”
I can tell by his raised eyebrow he doesn’t believe me. “I just don’t want you thinking you have to feed me. We’re not starving.” He takes the bagels out of the bag and lays them on a napkin. “I want your friendship, not a handout.”
“It’s not a handout,” I protest. “I get a coffee and bagel every morning, and I thought you might want one, too.”
“It’s sweet. I just don’t want you to be one of those chicks who takes on a ‘let’s take care of the loser guy’ project.”
His words sting, even though I’m sure he didn’t mean them to. “It’s just a bagel and coffee, Evan. That hardly constitutes a project.”
“I wish you’d call me Blue. Nobody calls me Evan.”
Using the plastic knife that was in the bag, I scrape some of the mound of cream cheese off my bagel and smile shyly. “Are we friends now?” I ask.
“We are.” He straddles the bench so he’s facing me. “The ladybug is hard at work making us soul mates,” he says with dazzling eyes and a crooked smile full of cockiness. I laugh but my insides are doing acrobatics.
“Is that right?”
He bites into his bagel and nods as he chews. “Yup.”
Our eyes linger on each other, the air between us full of hope and desire mixed with wisps of caution and defiance. If this keeps up, I may just start believing in his bug myths.
“Do you play in bars often?” I ask, needing to break the silence that looms over us.
“Maybe two or three times a month. I could probably get more gigs, but I have to bring Acorn with me, and not all the managers let him inside. I’m not just gonna tie him up outside and leave him.”
“I’ll watch him for you if you ever need me to. I could take him for a walk, and he could sit in my car with me while he waits for you.”
He leans closer and kisses the spot just below my ear, then pauses there with his nose in my hair, breathing me in. I savor the tickling sensation of his breath against my neck and flutter my eyes closed.
“Will you wait for me, too?” He moves his lips to my neck.
I lean my head against his. “If you want me to,” I murmur.
“I want.” He closes his mouth over my collarbone, and pulls me closer, between his legs. A turn of my head brings our lips together, and we kiss slow and soft, unlike the fiery, impatient kisses we shared before. Does the tenderness hint at emotion and care, or is this his well-orchestrated strategy to make me even more inebriated with him?
He pulls away and stares into my eyes, keeping his arm tight around me.
“I felt you wander,” he says.
“I’m sorry.”
“I can back off if you’re not into this.”
I grab his hand. “No,” I reply, shaking my head back and forth. “I-I don’t want you to.” I lace my fingers with his to solidify my words. “I’m just a little… thrown, I guess. By all of this. And what we’re doing.”
“We’re enjoying the moment. Right?”
“Right.” I picture myself introducing him to my parents. This is Blue, who I enjoy long moments with…
He gazes across the park, his eyes a shade darker than they were when we were kissing. I wish I hadn’t questioned his motives.
“Piper, I live moment to moment. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you can either take it or leave it. Don’t analyze it. I like you. I want to spend time with you. But that’s all I got right now.”
I let his words sink in, wondering where the ladybug myth is now. Regardless, I have to appreciate his honesty, even if it makes my heart ache.
Here, in my own moment, I’m a girl who’s crazy about a guy. Of course I want the dates and the title and the commitment and the hope of endless tomorrows together. But I still wouldn’t trade these random moments with him for anything.
Pressing my lips to his cheek, I whisper, “I’ll take it.”
He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me to him. The deep, demanding kiss is back, this time with a vengeance. The tightness of his grip beneath my hair and the rapture of his mouth on mine feels as if he wants to inhale me, swallow me, consume and own me. I don’t fight it because I feel the same way.
I want this man to be mine. His lips, his touch, his lust, his smile, his love. I want it all, and I’ll wait a lifetime for him if that’s what it takes. Call it lust or love. Call it whatever you want. I’m in deep. I’m drowning in him, and no lifeboat is coming to save me.
The longer we kiss, the more my body and heart want. His tongue rolling around mine stirs up a surge of desire that travels through my veins like liquid fire. My breasts ache to be touched and sucked by his amazing lips, and my thighs burn to be wrapped around his waist.
He groans into my mouth when I touch his cheek and run my hand through his hair, and then he pulls away with a heavy breath. “We better stop, or I’m going to drag you under this table like the dog did that cookie.”
I laugh, but I’m not sure I’d be able to stop him if he did just that.