Feel the Rush: A Hard Feelings Novel (InterMix) (6 page)

Meagan leaned over and picked her purse up off the chair. “I think it’s safe to say that you have won this round. But let it be known that I don’t give up that easily, and I’m pretty good with the comebacks.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. And since our friend here has hit the snooze button, I’m gonna head home.” She smiled and turned to walk out the door, but he called out her name, and she turned back around to face him. When she looked at him again, she saw something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, it was like she was seeing layers lifting around his eyes, and this particular one was solemn.

“Thanks for checking in on him. He’s gonna be on his own the next couple weeks until he can get back to Fort Carson.”

“It’s no problem, I kinda like the guy.”

“Uh oh, should I be threatened?”

Meagan rolled her eyes. His flirty, playful banter was back up and running—it was cute, and it reminded her exactly why she got sucked in so easily eight years ago. “Bye, Reed, see ya around.”

“Meagan,” Brewer mumbled from his bed, apparently drifting in and out of sleep.

“Yeah?”

“You forgot something.”

“What?”

“Me.”

She and Reed laughed in unison. “Go to sleep, Brewer.”

And he didn’t reply, because he already had.

Chapter Four

Meagan turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up as she stripped out of her clothes. The day had taken an unexpected turn. Seeing Reed at the hospital was—a surprise. And the way he was with his soldier was adorable. It was like there was no sign of the company commander in him, just a buddy coming to see a buddy. She could imagine all of his men liked him and respected him for how involved he was with them. He was so relatable—not stuck up on some high horse with a rank power complex. No, he treated his soldier just like any other guy, and she admired that about him. Meagan had lived around soldiers her entire life, hell, she was raised by a soldier, so she knew a thing or two about a good leader when she saw one, and Reed—he was one of the good ones, but in a way like no other. He was so different. Whereas Kale took no shit and had a balls-to-the-wall mentality with his men, Reed seemed more laid-back, more compassionate, and more patient. And it didn’t surprise her in the least. He was a big goofball wrapped up in a sexy package of solid masculine authority. His silliness was what had attracted her to him—well, along with the fact that his entire body seemed to send shivers down her spine every time he came in close proximity of her. But when she pushed that silliness aside there was an intensity to him that she couldn’t escape. It roped her in and tied her in knots, leaving her to wonder—what was shifting underneath all that carefree playfulness that wanted to claw its way to the surface? What layers of Reed had she yet to see?

“Hey, Meggy?” Eva said, knocking on the bathroom door.

Meagan cracked the door open and peeked her head out. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to the gym. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“All righty, see you later,” Meagan said before she shut the door.

She turned on her iPod, setting it down on the counter, and stepped into the shower, singing as she stood there, letting the water run over her. There was something about taking a shower at night that made everything better. Her mom always said it was washing the day away—not that she had a bad day to wash away, but old habits die hard. Meagan closed her eyes, enjoying the light spray of the shower hitting her skin. Her limbs instantly loosened and her muscles went slack, the blood slowing in her veins as she relaxed—maybe she should have taken a bath instead.

“Um, Meagan?” a deep voice said from the other room. Outside her bedroom maybe? The hall?

Crap.

Meagan stopped humming and froze. The warm water did nothing against the chill that suddenly slid down her spine. She just stood there for a moment, listening.

After a few erratic heartbeats, Meagan turned off the water and grabbed the towel from the hook on the wall, wrapping it around her as she quickly went to the bathroom door and opened it just a crack. She heard someone, didn’t she? And she was pretty sure it sounded a lot like Reed. Oh gosh, if her imagination was starting to hear his voice when she wasn’t asleep—yes, she had dreamt about him. . . once. Dammit, twice. But he was just so damn sexy, and unfortunately, every time she closed her eyes since she had seen him again that first night, her mind—conscious or not—automatically went to him as she remembered the way his stomach and his thighs looked without clothes on. . . .

“Hello?” she called out, stepping into her bedroom. She didn’t see anyone—or hear anyone, for that matter. Great, she really was imagining it. She needed to get laid, this finding-Mr.-Safe thing was starting to mess with her. If she didn’t find Mr. Safe soon, she was going to have to invest in a new Mr. Dildo.

She pulled the towel tighter around her as it started slipping down her breasts and walked into the hall that led to the living room and kitchen. Still no one. See, if this were a horror film she would be Dumb Blonde Number One, going to investigate a voice she heard in the other room while she was showering in her empty apartment.
Smart, Meagan. Real smart,
she said to herself as she padded barefoot and wet down the hall.

When she stepped into the living room, her feet automatically shuffled a few steps back and she damn near dropped her towel. Luckily, all the muscles in her body seemed to go on high alert, stiffening like stone, including the muscles of her fingers that were now wrapped around the towel in a death grip. Reed was standing with his back to her, leaning over the kitchen counter. He was wearing a pair of black gym shorts that hung down past his knees and a light gray cut-off army PT shirt. And of course he had to look amazing in it.

After the shock of seeing him standing in her kitchen diminished, she cleared her throat. “Reed?” she asked, the sound of her voice causing him to spin around to face her. She clutched onto the towel that separated her naked body from Reed’s stare, which was now locked on her like he had on X-ray vision goggles—and dammit, it was hot.

“Hey, Meagan.” His eyes shifted over her and he dropped his arms to his side and licked his lips. Whether or not he did it knowingly, she didn’t know, but the slow, subtle movement had Meagan’s thighs pressing together. He might not remember her, but she sure as hell remembered him—especially her body. It was like the memory of him hovering over her left a physical imprint on her skin, and it was walking the line with torture. No matter how many sexy looks he sent her, or how many times that tongue of his reached out and swiped across his perfect lips, she was not going to go there again. He was Mr. Safe’s arch nemesis—her plan’s arch nemesis. He was anything but safe, she already knew that.

When she didn’t say anything he continued. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were taking a shower. I was just writing you a note. I passed your roommate in the hall and she told me you were home and to walk on in. I’m sorry.” His eyes squinted slightly, garnished with a flash of mischief. Yeah, his words might have said he was sorry, but the slight pull to the corners of his mouth paired with the intensity in his eyes said that he was anything but. The asshole was amused.

Meagan was sure her face was about ten different shades of red at that very moment. She had no doubt in her mind that Eva had given him the go-ahead to come in the apartment. The little tramp was plotting something, Meagan just knew it, and when Eva had something up her sleeve it never ended well.

Meagan didn’t respond; she just looked at him, puzzled.

Reed smiled, that damn mouth of his perfectly crafted into what was now a cocky smirk that made Meagan want to shake her head in exasperation, yet at the same time it made her want to drop her towel and give him something to smirk about—but she wasn’t that ballsy.

Reed reached around the counter and lifted a large brown paper bag. “You like Mexican food?”

He had brought Mexican food? Okay, first off, major brownie points scored right there, Mexican food was her favorite. And second, he was surprising her with dinner? Hmm.

“It just so happens that I love Mexican food.” She started walking toward him, curious to see how much more this guy could get right. “What’d ya bring me?”

Reed’s eyes were unashamed, slowly traveling down the length of her body as she got closer to him. She tightened her hold on the towel that was wrapped around her; it just barely closed completely. If she took too long of strides, he wouldn’t need any X-ray vision.

She watched as his eyes, which seemed to be more liquid gold than brown at the moment, returned to hers. He swallowed a few times and wet his lips again. She was affecting him—she could tell, and she liked it. It gave her a sense of power that suddenly made her want to strut around the whole damn apartment in nothing more than the towel, just so his eyes could continue to warm her body from the inside out, just like they were at that very moment—but again, not that ballsy.

“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, so I hoped for the best and bought the basics and my favorites. We got your chicken fajita quesadilla, a couple supreme tacos, and my personal favorite, the loaded loco burrito. I’ve got enough queso here to last us until next week and”—he walked around the counter and picked up a milk jug filled with a lime-colored liquid—“margaritas.”

Meagan scrunched her nose at the jug in his hands and his persona instantly shifted. The intensity was gone, and his playfulness was back in full swing, and although Meagan was relieved to know that her body might stand a chance at being in the same room with him without feeling the need to take a walk down memory lane, she was also slightly disappointed. She shouldn’t, but she liked the way he was looking at her moments ago. It’d been a while since a man looked at her like she was his favorite dessert.

“What? You don’t like margaritas?” he asked when he saw her face contorted into a disgusted scowl. He looked slightly wounded, like his puppy had just died or something, and Meagan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh no, I love margaritas, but I’m really picky. I’m a tough critic when it comes to my margaritas, and that jug of juice you’ve got there, my friend, does
not
seem appealing.”

“Okay, well, I was going to let you finish your shower in peace and leave this nice food here for you to enjoy by yourself”—he grabbed the note he was writing off the counter and raised it for her to see. Sure enough, it said he was going to leave the food and head home since she was in the shower—“but now I want you to get your cute ass in there and change, because, quite frankly, you’re very distracting in that towel, and then come back in here and I will wow you with my margarita-making abilities.”

Cute ass? Distracting?

She smiled at him, an unexpected flutter pattering against her stomach, and turned on her heels knowing good and well she shouldn’t. She should just tell him to leave and go finish her shower—but she caved. “On the rocks with lots of salt,” she said over her shoulder before she picked up the pace and trotted down the hall to her room.

***

Well fuck. He didn’t expect her to be in the shower when he walked into her house. And he sure as hell didn’t expect her to come walking out of the hall looking surprised with her big, round eyes, her blond hair clinging to the side of her face and neck, and her body dripping wet from head to toe—but it was a sight he wouldn’t mind seeing again.

He had wanted to surprise her—to thank her. He knew good and well that she shouldn’t have called him after Brewer’s surgery, and he definitely didn’t expect to see her check up on him after her shift. She was going out of her way for him, and for his soldier, and that said a hell of a lot about her. Brewer didn’t have anyone here, and a pretty face like Meagan checking in on him every now and again would be good for the kid—keep his spirits up.

“I hope you don’t mind sitting on the floor, our stuff hasn’t gotten here yet,” Meagan said as she returned to the kitchen. She had her hair wrapped up in a towel, which was unusually adorable, and she was wearing a pair of shorts that put Daisy Duke’s to shame, paired with a snug-fit plain black tank top.

There was still something about her that had his head swimming. His body responded to her, but hell, he was a man, he didn’t think it was possible for any man to be near her without their dick getting a little rise from the way she looked when she scrunched her nose or twirled the tuft of hair at the nape of her neck. This woman was oozing with sex appeal that she didn’t even realize she had. She was sweet, but in the way that made him feel like she could be anything but sweet given the right opportunity, and he would most definitely like to give her that opportunity.

His mouth became moist, his lips parting slightly as he allowed himself to toy with the thoughts that entered his mind as his eyes traveled over her dulcet body again. She fidgeted with her fingernails and shifted her weight from side to side, waiting for his response—but he was enjoying taking the time to breathe her in, watching as she grew eager. “Nah, I don’t mind at all,” he finally said, deciding to put the poor woman out of her misery.

She threw a couple of pillows down on the floor. “Good.”

“All right, I need you to taste this for me,” he said, handing her a red Solo cup filled with his margarita. “And when you’re done tasting it, you can give me a big fat thank-you followed by the words ‘Reed, you’re the best.’”

Meagan laughed. “Is that so?”

Cracking a smile, he nodded. “Yes. Now try it.”

Her tongue flicked out and skimmed across a small section of the Solo cup, lapping up the salt before she pressed the rim of the cup to her lips and took a sip. Which was sexy as hell, and he was sure she didn’t have a damn clue.

The instant she pulled the cup away, a smile broke out across her face. She was trying desperately not to, but it was a lost cause. Her full lips parted and her white teeth went on display as her lips turned up in a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. “Dammit, Reed,” she said, shaking her head, apparently surprised, and sighed. “You’re the best.”

Reed clasped his hands together. “Ah, I knew you would love it. No woman can resist my margaritas.”

She cocked her head to the side and lifted her blond eyebrows. “Oh, is that so?”

He looked at her and stumbled over his words. Fuck, that didn’t sound good. He opened his mouth to say something what, he wasn’t exactly sure, he just knew women were sensitive about that shit and he needed to try to divert the situation to a different direction. But before he could get a single sound out of his throat, she spoke up. “It’s fine, Reed. You can put away the ghostly guilt look,” she said as she pulled the towel down from around her head and ran her fingers through the damp blond waves.

His shoulders slumped and he grinned, grabbing the paper sack off the counter and bringing it in to their makeshift dining room where Meagan had retreated, sitting on one of the pillows she had thrown down. “So, what’ll it be? Taco, burrito, or quesadilla?” he asked, sitting down next to her.

“Well, I’m usually a burrito girl, but since that’s your favorite I will let you have it and I will take the taco.”

“Nope, here”—he handed her the burrito wrapped in foil—“you have it.”

She took it from him, crossed her legs Indian-style on the floor, and started opening the burrito. “You don’t have to twist my arm when it comes to Mexican food and margaritas.” She took a large bite, sour cream and cheese spilling out of her mouth.