Give Us a Chance (9 page)

"Because I don't know what you're doing. I know you only date a girl once, if that. I also know you've never had a girlfriend and don't want one. You're not a relationship guy, and I'm not saying I'm looking for that right now, but—"

"Stop." I put my finger over her lips and hear her sharply inhale a breath. She's either angry I did it, or surprised, but I needed to stop her because if she kept going, she'd talk herself out of going on another date with me.

I drop my hand from her lips. "I'm not playing games with you. I want to take you out again, and again after that. I admit this is new to me, and you're right, I've never had a girlfriend, but maybe it's because I just haven't met the right girl. Maybe that girl is standing right in front me and I don't know it yet because I need more time with her." My eyes are locked on hers and I hear her breath quicken. It draws my attention down to her mouth and her slightly parted lips. Shit, I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her so bad, but I can't. I promised myself I wouldn't. I force my eyes back to hers. "So would you go on another date with me?"

She pauses a moment. "Okay."

I give her a slight grin. "Good. Now that we've got that settled, I'll head out. Have a good evening. I'll call you tomorrow."

I turn to leave, and when I'm almost at the door, I hear her voice again. "Jake?"

"Yeah?" I turn around and see her still standing there, her mouth slightly parted, her eyes locked on mine. Then she bites her lip, and that promise I made to myself just seconds earlier is instantly broken.

I stalk back to her, take her face in my hands, and put my mouth over hers. I kiss her hard, rushed, then force myself to slow down. I don't want this to be fast. I want to take my time, savor how it feels to kiss her. I've waited months to do this. I've imagined it in my head so many freaking times, but what I imagined isn't even close to the real thing. Her mouth is perfect, her lips soft, and responsive in a way that feels like we've done this before. There's no awkwardness of a first kiss, no hesitation. I feel her lips part for me and when my tongue slides over hers, she moans and grips my coat, pulling me closer, so close that she can feel how hard I am. It's right up against her, and so hard it fucking aches. I can't remember ever being this aroused, not even as a teenager. If Ivy dumps me tomorrow, she'll have ruined me for every kiss I have from this point forward. Who knew a simple kiss could feel this damn good?

She backs away just enough to take a breath, so I take one too, then plant my mouth on hers again, my fingers threading through her long silky hair, gripping the back of her neck as my tongue devours her mouth, tasting her. I want to slip my hand under her coat and touch her breast, but I know that's too much, too soon.

So I continue to kiss her as long as she'll let me. A few minutes pass, and I feel her lips slowly pull away. I'm already longing to feel them again, but that'll have to wait until some other night.

"I should go," she whispers, trailing her hand down my chest.

I have to touch her one last time so I run the back of my fingers over her cheek, then along her lips. She closes her eyes and breathes out at my touch, then her eyes open again and meet up with mine.

"You have nice lips," I tell her.

"Is that why you kissed me?"

"I kissed you because I wanted to. I've wanted to for months, so when you gave me permission, I took it."

"I didn't give you permission."

"I'm pretty sure you did." I lower my arms around her waist, keeping her close.

"I said your name. That's it."

"It was the way you said it. And the way you looked at me when you said it."

"You could've misinterpreted what I meant."

"Did I?"

She pauses. "No. But I only did it to teach you how to act on a date, since apparently you don't know, which is understandable given that you haven't been on many."

"And what exactly were you teaching me?"

"That at the end of a first date, you give the girl a kiss goodnight."

"And what happens at the end of the second date?"

"You get to kiss me again. Maybe longer next time."

"I'm taking you out tomorrow," I say, anxious for the chance to kiss her again.

"Maybe I'm busy tomorrow."

"Are you really busy? Or do you just not want to go out with me tomorrow? Be honest. You won't hurt my feelings, although I will be disappointed."

"I just don't want to rush things. I'm still not sure about you."

"All the more reason to spend time with me."

She smiles at my reasoning. She knows persuasion is a skill of mine. That's why I'm so good at sales and negotiation. "So where are we going?"

"Dinner and a movie."

She nods. "Very traditional."

"I've never done it before. I figured I should try it. You can pick the movie."

"You've really never taken a girl to dinner and a movie?"

Shit, I shouldn't have said that. It'll just remind her of my history of random hookups in which I didn't even take the girl out anywhere before having sex with her.

"I'll pick you up at six," I say, deciding it's not necessary to answer her question. She knows the answer.

"Make it seven. I have to stop at my dad's house after work."

"Seven it is. Goodnight, Ivy." I press my lips to hers for one last kiss, then tear myself away before I kiss her again.

Normally, kissing bores me, but I do it because girls expect it before moving on to other things. But kissing Ivy? There was nothing boring about that. I could kiss her all freaking night and not get tired of it.

I leave and go back to my loft and get to work on all the shit I have to do. But my head isn't in it. It keeps wandering back to Ivy. This is bad. Just one date and I already have feelings for her. Actually, I had feelings for her as far back as last summer but I kept denying it, telling myself I only liked her because she's hot. But it wasn't just that. If it was, I wouldn't have worried about her when she was sick last fall and brought her that gift card. I wouldn't have made sure I was always on site at the Victorian when her shift was over so I could make sure she got safely to her car, even in daylight. I wouldn't have asked Nash to keep a close eye on her at the library to make sure the other guys weren't bothering her. The truth is, I've had feelings for Ivy since the day I met her, and now those feelings are even stronger.

This is what I've been trying to avoid. I didn't want to ever feel this way about a girl, but I can't seem to stop it, or turn it off, or get Ivy out of my head.

Even the next day, I still can't stop thinking about her.

"Can I sit here?" A pretty blonde stands by my table, holding a salad and a bottle of iced tea.

"Go ahead." I notice all the other tables are full. I'm at a restaurant downtown, sitting at a long table with stools. I just finished meeting with a potential client about renovating an old building into lofts and retail. The meeting went well, but it's a huge project and a lot of other companies are bidding on it so it's a long shot we'll get it.

The blonde sits across from me but one seat down. She has long wavy hair and a beautiful face. I caught a glimpse of her when she was in line. She's tall and thin like a model and is wearing a black wool coat with a cream-colored scarf around her neck.

"This weather," she says, unwinding her scarf and setting it on the stool next to her. "I'm getting tired of it." She smiles at me. "How about you?"

"I don't really notice it," I say, glancing at my phone. "I grew up here so I'm used to it."

"I'm not at all. I'm originally from California." She unbuttons her coat and takes it off, revealing a black knit dress and breasts that are far too big to be natural on someone as thin as her.

"But you live here now?" I ask, feeling an odd and sudden twinge of guilt. Why would I feel guilty? Because I'm talking to a beautiful woman? There's nothing wrong with that. We're just talking. And I don't have a girlfriend. I've been on one date with Ivy, and even if we'd been dating for weeks, that wouldn't mean I couldn't talk to another woman.

"I'm here for the agency," she says. "They lined up some modeling jobs here in Chicago, and then in March I'll be going to New York."

So she's a model. Makes sense. She's fucking gorgeous.

She dips a piece of lettuce in her dressing, then shakes it off so just a drop of it remains. I doubt she could even taste it.

I focus back on my phone, going through all the texts and emails I missed when I was out with Ivy last night. There are at least five texts from Nicole, a girl I hooked up with last week, asking if we could hook up later. She texted me again this morning, with a text that reads,
Nooner? I'm hungry, baby, and I want you for lunch.
The words are
followed by a heart and winking smiley face.

Nicole obviously didn't listen when I told her our encounter was a one-time thing. I occasionally get with a girl more than once, but only if I can tell that she's as committed to the sex-only rule as I am. If I get a sense a girl might want more than that, it's one and done, and I make it clear she knows that, which I did with Nicole but apparently she refuses to accept that.

I text Nicole back,
One time, remember?

But I need you, baby,
she texts back.

Her words are followed by another winking smiley face and a pair of red lips. I hate those things. Emojis, or whatever the hell they're called. They annoy me. If a girl uses them, I'm instantly turned off.

Meet me at my apartment tonight at 7,
she texts, followed by a wine glass and roses. Does that mean I'm supposed to bring her roses? Fucking annoying. Even if I liked her, I wouldn't want to be told to bring her flowers.

I'm seeing someone. Lose my number,
I text.

You're cheating on me?!!!
she texts back, followed by an angry-face with downward-slanting eyebrows, a frown, and a red face.

You can't cheat on someone you're not dating,
I text back.

This time she takes a moment to respond, but then texts,
You're an ass!!!
She adds a hand emoji with the middle finger extended. I actually kind of like that one.

Her texting rant ends and I go back to eating my lunch. The blonde model across from me gets up and walks to the counter to get some napkins. Her dress is short and she's wearing black boots that reach up to her thighs, leaving a small band of skin showing between the dress and the boots. Fuck, she's hot. And that outfit...damn, she knows how to dress to get a man's attention.

See? This is why I can't be in a relationship. I have a date with Ivy tonight and I'm looking at some other girl.

I check my phone again and see a text from my dad. We were supposed to meet here for lunch but he was running late so I told him I'd meet with him later, but now he says he'll be here in a minute.

"So what do you do for fun when it's freezing like this?" The blonde is sitting directly across from me now, sipping her bottle of unsweetened tea through a thin pink straw. Her salad is off to the side, barely touched but topped with a crumpled-up napkin, indicating she's done with it. She couldn't have had more than a couple bites.

"I don't have much time for fun. I work a lot."

"Where do you work?"

"I work for my dad. He owns a construction company. We do mostly renovation work, remodels, that type of thing."

Why am I telling her this? She doesn't give a shit about construction, unlike Ivy, who could talk about it for hours.

She leans toward me and smiles. "That must be tiring. All that physical labor." She reaches over and rubs her hand over my forearm. I'm wearing a light blue dress shirt but I rolled the sleeves up because it's hot in here. "I can tell you're in good shape."

That twinge of guilt I felt earlier is now twisting my insides, making me feel anxious, uncomfortable. An image of Ivy pops in my head. She's such a stark contrast from the girl sitting across from me. She doesn't coat her face with makeup the way this girl does. Ivy doesn't need that shit. Her face is gorgeous without a drop of makeup, and I know because I've seen her without it the days she got up late and didn't have time to put it on before work. And Ivy lives in jeans and t-shirts, not the high-fashion clothes this girl is wearing. I bet this girl's outfit costs thousands of dollars, and although it looks nice, I like Ivy's look better, although she'd look smoking hot in a dress like the blonde is wearing. And if Ivy wore those boots? Holy shit. I wouldn't be able to control myself. In fact, just imagining her in that outfit is causing movement below the belt.

"Do you have plans for tonight?" The blonde smiles at me with her sparkling white teeth, her lips covered in red lipstick, and again, my mind drifts to Ivy, and her lush, full, beautiful lips, and how they felt when I kissed her. Goddamn, I want to kiss her. I thought about it all last night and now I'm thinking about it again.

"Did you hear me?" the blonde asks, her cold, bony fingers rubbing my forearm.

"Yeah. Sorry." I pull my arm back. "I have a girlfriend, so..."

I have a girlfriend?
What the fuck? Those words have never come out of my mouth. Not once. And yet when I said it, that image of Ivy was still in my head. What the hell is going on with me? I don't have a girlfriend. This thing with Ivy is...I don't know what it is, but she's not my girlfriend.
 

"Oh." The blonde sits up straighter and fakes a smile. "I was just wondering if maybe—"

"Jake." I look over and see my dad waving at me. He walks over to the table. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"I was just leaving," the blonde says, as she gets off the stool. She gathers her coat and scarf from the seat next to her, then takes off for the women's restroom.

My dad takes her place across from me, a disapproving look on his face. "Is she one of your..." He sighs instead of finishing his thought. He doesn't like the fact that I sleep around, but he's given up lecturing me about it. Instead, he gives me that look.

"She's just some girl who needed a place to sit. I don't know her. I don't even know her name."

"That's never stopped you before," he mumbles, picking up my glass of water and taking a drink.