Chasing You (Thirsty Hearts Book 4) (4 page)

A
lexa’s gym
was a twenty-minute drive from Graham’s house. He passed two other major gym chains, including one where he already had a membership, on his way.

None of that mattered.

Her
gym was where he’d been working out for the past couple of weeks—even though it meant getting up a half hour earlier.

Graham braced his hands on his knees and slid himself to a faux standing position on the leg press machine. His eyes fixed on the door to the studio.

Half an hour ago, a buzzing hive of about fifteen women followed Alexa into the wood-floored side room. The schedule at the front desk said she’d be teaching a hybrid pilates and yoga class for another fifteen minutes.

He lowered himself back into a pseudo-squat and then pressed up again. After his set, he moved over to the lateral pulldown machine to work his back. Eventually, he made his way around the room, getting a total body workout that left him more antsy than exhausted.

The door to the studio swung open. Women poured out in a gaggle of sweat and chatter. Above the din, Graham heard a familiar rolling laugh. He abandoned his weight equipment and grabbed his towel, keys, and water bottle.

Alexa caught sight of him as he powered toward her. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t run. She stopped dead in her tracks by the water fountain and paused before refilling her stainless steel canteen.

“Do you have a membership here? I don’t remember an application with your name on it coming across my desk.”

“Well, do you keep track of every new member? Maybe you missed me.”

“I don’t think I would have missed you.”

Graham lifted the corner of his mouth, chuckling. “You caught me.”

“Did Holly let you in?” Alexa pursed her lips. Her eyes drifted to the front desk.

“Don’t blame her. I told her you said it was okay for me to try things out.”

“You could have asked, and I might have. Now, I have to throw you out.” Alexa gave an exaggerated sigh and shook her head. “Hold on while I call the police. This is theft, you know.”

Graham mentally rubbed his hands together and tried to look doe-eyed. “How about I buy a membership now? Would that clear my ledger?”

“You don’t already belong to a gym?”

“That’s not your concern. I’m willing to become a paying client.”

“We reserve the right to refuse service.” The slightest humor in her voice delighted him. His chest swelled.

“You’re banning me?”

Alexa’s nostrils flared, but a tiny smile flickered on her face. “Come to my office.”

Alexa took off, and of course, he followed. When she got to her office, she turned, holding open the door for him and throwing it shut behind him.

“Why are you here?” She gestured for Graham to sit down, but stayed standing, leaning against the edge of her desk. If she thought he’d let her peer down at him, she had another thing coming.

Graham draped his towel on the back of the chair and widened his stance, just a few feet from his sparring partner. “I wanted to check things out.” He gestured toward the gym with his water bottle and keys.

“We did that the other day.”

“Okay. I wanted to see you again.”

Graham shot her an unflinching, flirtatious smile, which she met with a daunting glare.

“Why?”

The way her lips bowed on the word supercharged his pulse.

“You seem the secure type. I’m sure you know why.”

“I don’t like your using my business to pry your way back into my pants.” Exasperation rose in her tone and heightened the color in her cheeks.

The effects of pushing her buttons gave him a twisted thrill. He’d never enjoyed annoying another human being more.

“I didn’t say anything about your pants. I only said that I wanted to see you again. To ask you out. My getting into your pants is on your mind, not mine.”

She crossed her arms, stone-faced. He countered her demeanor by moving a step closer.

She rocked back on her hip, then stood and walked around to put the desk between them.

Graham pressed forward with his case. “You owe me a breakfast—or the meal of your choice. That would make it up to me for so rudely running out on New Year’s Day.”

“I thought we agreed not to discuss that.”

He laughed and shook his finger at her. “Nope. You said you didn’t want to talk about it. I said nothing of the kind.” Graham dipped his chin and looked up at her with a pleading expression. “One meal. Let’s have dinner.”

“Dinner, now?” She sighed. “You’re my landlord.”

“That’s an excuse.”

“I don’t mix business and pleasure.” Her gaze fled from his, and Graham grinned.

“Never?” When Alexa didn’t respond, he tried again. “Come on.”

Her mouth twitched near a smile, wariness and amusement wrestling on her face. “Fine.”

He’d prepared to argue with her, and her capitulation tripped him up.

“W-what are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have plans already.”

“Hot date?”

“Yes, actually.”

She raised one brow and stared at him, not blinking. He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he’d gotten what he wanted, so he let it go. “Friday, then.”

Alexa shook her head. “I’m meeting with Toby and Sarah after work to discuss plans for their charity event.”

“Great. I told them I’d help. I’ll pick you up.”

“No. I’ll be heading there straight from work. I’ll meet you there.”

Graham could feel her grasping for control and vowed to stay agreeable. “Perfect. Afterward, maybe we can grab a drink or something.”

She gaped at him. “Sure. Now, are you going to join the gym and get legal or not?”

“You’re still going to take my money?”

“I’m a businesswoman.”

Alexa turned to her filing cabinet and pulled out some papers. She waved them at his chest. He stepped forward and took them, pinning the paperwork between his fingers and his water bottle.

“I’ll fill them out today and drop them off when I come in tomorrow.”

“Be sure to fill them out correctly so we can run your credit.” A jovial display of teeth appeared and then quickly disappeared under her stern expression.

He cackled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her curt nod sent Graham strutting out of her office.

One date was a start, but he’d get more. He could feel her waffling. She was as curious about repeating their night—sober and with full awareness—as he was. Game on.

* * *

A
lexa dropped into her chair
, forgetting how sweaty she was. As she shifted, her skin peeled off the leather seat.

A date with Graham? Why hadn’t she just said yes?

He looked incredibly sexy standing there in his muscle T-shirt, wet and sticking to his pecs. Sweat darkened his hair to bronze, and one curl looped down on one side of his forehead like Superman. Messy, sweaty, and with a seductive smile—the vision had almost overwhelmed the part of Alexa that thought this might be a bad idea.

What also didn’t make sense to her was why she’d made up the part of having a date tomorrow. All she had to do was say no, and instead, she lied and earned Graham’s knowing smirk.

Maybe she could find something to do. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she’d lied.

Alexa clucked her tongue and stared at the ceiling.

She met Sam in September at Melissa’s boyfriend’s birthday party, and in a “what the hell” moment, she gave him her phone number. They went on one date, and for several weeks, he had flirted with her. She had laughed and put him off. He cooled the flirting around the holidays.

Sam only wanted to get lucky. Alexa knew from the first time she met him that he would never get to see her naked. But a fun night out with another guy would keep her from obsessing over Graham and ensure she wasn’t a liar to boot. She picked up her cell phone and sent a quick text to Sam.

> Meet up tomorrow for drinks? Logan’s? 6:30?

She turned her phone over and over in her hand. What was she doing? A minute later, her phone shook twice in rapid succession. First, she got affirmation of her date with Sam, and then, a message from Graham popped up.

>> Talked to Sarah. See you Friday. Can’t wait to see your beautiful nipples

Seriously? Alexa tapped her phone, ready to tell Graham not to bother, and it buzzed again.

Another text from Graham.

>> DIMPLES!!! Voice recog needs work.

Eruptions of laughter bent her sideways. She accepted his excuse with some incredulity, but if it were an excuse and he was an asshole, she had to give it to him. He was at least a quick-thinking asshole.

A
s soon as
Sam lanked toward her in front of Logan’s the following night, Alexa regretted having made the date. Not that he wasn’t handsome. He was—even if he wasn’t her type.

Pale with strawberry blond hair, she wondered how he survived the blazing suns of a Texas summer. He probably had to dip himself in a vat of sunscreen three times a day.

But he was tall—towering, probably, over any other woman who wasn’t six feet tall herself. Six four? No, probably six five. He moved well for a guy his size. Maybe he’d played sports.

He perked up upon seeing her, silencing Alexa’s mental critique.

“Hey, Alexa, you look gorgeous.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

He leaned forward to hug her hello, and Alexa bobbed backward, keeping the embrace at arm’s length.

“It looks pretty crowded in there. We should hurry and get a table.”

They shuffled awkwardly, side-by-side, toward the door.

Once inside, the wave of noise washing over them offered Alexa the opportunity to not speak. Sam gestured toward a booth in the corner, and she followed.

Texting him out of the blue was impulsive, but who knows? Maybe she would discover something to help her forget her landlord who seemed intent on worming his way into other areas of her life.

The waitress came over and took their drink orders. Not wanting to head straight for liquor, Alexa decided to forgo her typical vodka soda and ask for her favorite red wine instead. Sam requested a fancy lager after his first two choices weren’t available on tap—much to his consternation.

“It’s not like the beer’s that obscure. It just won an award as Austin’s best new India pale ale.” Sam shook his head, brows knit together.

“I have to admit that I know nothing about the local brew scene. It sounds like you’re pretty into it.” Alexa brightened her face, encouraging Sam to continue.

“I toyed with the idea of doing a small batch brew. But, you know, the day job gets in the way. It’s probably not going to happen.”

“I guess I’m lucky that I get to do what I love. What do you do again?”

“I’m a radiology technician at the hospital. It’s not that I don’t like what I do, but I have a thousand ideas about other stuff I might like better. I see a lot of sickness and a lot of scared people. It gets depressing.”

“I can see that.” Alexa didn’t know where to take the conversation once the thought of sick and scared people was in her head.

Sam sighed. “So…how was your holiday?”

“Good. I went to see my parents up in Oklahoma at Christmas, and I stopped in Dallas on the way back for New Year’s. My cousin and her new husband live there.”

“Oh! What’d you do for New Year’s?”

More like…who did I do?
“Melissa and I went to a party.”

“She didn’t spend New Year’s with Kyle?”

“He drew the short straw at work and had to do the overnight shift, covering the ER. She met me in Dallas instead.”

Kyle was an orthopedic surgeon. He hadn’t been happy about having to ring in the New Year setting bones under fluorescent lights.

“Damn. Worst job ever.”

“I guess. Kyle has always enjoyed his work.”

“No.” The vociferous syllable gave Alexa a start. “It’s awful. Covering the ER is the worst. Especially at night, and especially on holidays. People get drunk and get in horrible accidents. People get pissed off and shoot their relatives. It’s humanity at its worst.”

“Wow. Sounds pretty bad…but, anyway, that’s what I did for New Year’s Eve. I went to a party in Dallas.”

Alexa shifted in her seat to position herself for a better view of the rest of the bar and, hopefully, her waitress’ arrival with their drinks. She might need a glass of wine the size of a bathtub to get through this date.

“Sorry. Working at the hospital gets to you.”

Alexa’s flashed a smile like an emergency flare. “No. It’s fine. I get it.”

Sam grinned, reaching across the table and patting Alexa’s hand, which stilled in response. “You had a good time?”

Alexa shuffled her feet and banged her knee against the heavy wooden table leg, biting her lip to keep from cursing. She breathed through the pain and refocused on her date. “Yeah. It was a good time. What’d you do over the holiday?”

“It was pretty lame. I was in San Antonio with my mom, my stepdad, and my baby sister—half-sister. She’s only fifteen, and Jesus, she’s a bitch.”

Alexa flinched, and Sam reddened. “I mean…It’s just, you know, she’s a teenager, and so cranky and negative.”

“I can see how that would get annoying. I’m going to run to the restroom. I want to wash my hands before we eat.”

Jumping up, Alexa grabbed her purse and skirted through the crowd to the back of the bar and through a swinging door adorned with a cowgirl doing a jig. She stepped around the two women in line and headed for the sink, waving her hand furiously in front of the automatic sensor to get the soap to dispense and the water to turn on.

For the first time in a long time, she took the time to sing the alphabet song in her head, scrubbing the germs and delivering herself a mental pep talk.

He wasn’t so bad. A little negative, maybe. His job probably had him stressed out. He needed time to decompress. Alexa lifted her head and stared into her own ginger-brown eyes.
Give him a chance.
She flicked her hands into the sink and reached for a paper towel, slowly drying her hands.

Reflexively, her hand dipped into her purse, and she pulled out her phone to check messages.

> How’s the date? Does he stand a chance?

Graham. Alexa stuffed the phone back in her bag and squared her shoulders. Hiding out in the bathroom was bad enough. She wouldn’t start texting some other guy.

When she returned to the table, her beautiful glass of Pinot awaited her. She seized the stem. “I love this wine,” she murmured, bringing it to her lips. She captured the tannic liquid in her mouth and rolled it over her tongue for a moment, before letting it slide down her throat. “God, that’s good.”

Sam gawked, and his pinkness intensified. “You like wine.”

“I do. I’ve just started getting into it. I’ve been a cocktail girl for a long time.”

“Wine has always seemed kind of pretentious to me. No offense. Beer is so everyday man. It’s…democratic.”

Damn, this guy had no clue.
All he had to do was say anything else like, “What do you like about it so much?” or even, “I’ve never been into it, but everyone has their taste.” But, no, liking wine made her a pretentious snob. She fought off the nearly inescapable urge to fake a phone call and flee toward some imaginary emergency.

“Huh. I’ve never been a beer drinker. We should eat.”

Alexa motioned to their waitress who bounded over.

“Y’all ready to order?”

“Give me a second.” Sam flipped the menu over.

“I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich on a whole grain bun. No mayo. No cheese. And can I maybe get some slices of avocado on the side and the mixed green salad instead of fries? Dressing on the side.”

“Got it.” The waitress turned to Sam as Alexa handed in her menu.

“Oh, well, I’ll have the swiss mushroom burger. With fries.”

The young woman surveyed them both, and Alexa caught her smug smile as she walked away.

“I forgot. You work at a gym, right? You do the whole health thing.” He flipped the back of his hand at her as he spoke.

“I try.”

“Where does red wine fit in all that?” Sam snorted.

“One glass isn’t going to hurt anything. Normally, I might have a vodka soda if I’m getting my drink on, but red wine with dinner is usually perfect.”

“Red wine and chicken? I thought the wine snobs wouldn’t dare.”

Alexa ground her teeth and huffed. “Those rules don’t really matter. Drink what you want. What tastes good to you. That’s what matters. It’s very
democratic
.”

“Whatever floats your boat. But you don’t have to order a salad to impress me.”

“Trust me. I’m not trying to impress you. I’m not even sure why you’re being so…snide. Just because I ordered a salad?”

“Did you even ask if I was ready to order? You just get the waitress over here and start ordering. It’s like you’re the guy.
I’m
the guy.” He thrust both thumbs toward his chest.

A chuckle escaped her, then Alexa noticed the wash of fuchsia on Sam’s cheeks. “You’re not serious.”

Sam planted both forearms on the table and leaned in. “I’m not the kind of guy to sit back and let a woman take over. What would you expect?”

Alexa turned the corner into I-don’t-give-a-fuck territory and picked up speed. “Someone who can handle a hungry woman ordering a meal without his balls shriveling.”

“Jesus. I should have known you were one of those high-maintenance women. Avocado on the side. Dressing on the side. No cheese. No mayonnaise. Or is that just a black thing?”

“What?” she screeched.

“Th-the no mayonnaise thing.” Sam’s eyes got wider as his face grew pinker. Soon, he’d be purple.

“How about I just don’t fucking like mayonnaise?”

Sam put up a hand as if to slow her down. “Whatever. I’m not trying to be racist. I honestly thought that was a thing, maybe.”

Alexa decided to ignore his ramblings about black people and mayonnaise, but she knew she was done. She pulled two twenties out of her purse and threw them on the table.

“That should cover my sandwich and the wine.”

“You’re leaving? The food is still coming.”

“Take mine. My treat. Have a nice night.”

The staccato beat of her delivery smacked the fight—and the words—out of Sam. Alexa heard nothing behind her as she stormed out of Logan’s and down the two blocks to her car.

Sliding behind the steering wheel, she exhaled. How had that gone down the toilet so fast? She pressed the start button and put the car in gear. It didn’t matter. Life was too short not to bail on nonsense.

Hell, if I was going to spend the evening arguing, I could have done that with Graham.
The thought exploded in her mind, and she raced to put out the fire.

* * *

>
D
ate was a bust
. What are you up to?

The surprising text lit up Graham’s phone and his mood. Rather than communicate via messaging, he picked up the phone and called her.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t expect you to call me.”

“You wanted to know what I was doing. I was sitting here licking my wounds because one of Austin’s most stunning women put me off until this weekend.”

In truth, Sierra was coming over later, when she finished slinging drinks at a whiskey bar downtown—slender, wicked Sierra with purple streaks in her jet hair and a matching pair of butterfly tattoos on her hip bones. Graham viewed them as placement markers for his thumbs.

He wondered if Sierra was her real name. Given the unnaturally large globes on her narrow-ribbed chest, he figured that at some point she’d been a stripper. She had the talent. She often showed up at his house and began peeling off her clothes as soon as he opened the door. Sierra would fuck him into a coma and be gone by morning, which is how he liked it. Most of the time. For some reason, Alexa’s accommodation of that still irked him.

His evening entertainment wouldn’t be over until extremely late—probably not until 2:30.

“You’re full of flattery this evening. You must be lonely.” Her low voice swayed toward him over the phone.

“Without you? Always. Where are you?”

“I just left Logan’s. I was going to head home, but I’m all geared up to be out.”

“Is your date still at Logan’s?”

“I have no idea. I’m not going back there.”

Graham pictured some poor schlub left slump-shouldered and pathetic to drown in tap beer as Alexa sashayed away. His loss. “Where do you live?”

“Why?”

“I thought I’d be a gentleman and meet you somewhere near your house.”

“Oh. There’s a wine bar just off Lamar before you get to Barton Springs. In a house.”

“I know the one.” Like a lot of places in that neighborhood, it was hipster heaven, but it was relatively chill and they’d be able to talk.

“I could be there in ten minutes.”

“It may take me twenty, but I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.”

Did she actually sound excited to see him? Graham would have to toast the schmo she dumped for the evening. Poor bastard or lucky bastard? The woman always gets to decide.