One Night of Scandal (8 page)

Not by a longshot.

Chapter Eight

As Reed followed Darcy to the front door in silence, he snuck furtive glances at her, then kicked himself every damn time because her rosy glow and sated expression painted a picture of a woman who’d been well-sexed.

It only made him want her even more, but damn it, he wasn’t allowed to. He’d given himself one free pass, thrown good judgment out the window and taken what he wanted. But he couldn’t do it again. Sex with Darcy Grant was no longer on the table.

Darcy stopped at the door, her forehead creasing. “Now what?”

Reed puffed out a breath. “Now I go home.”

“I see.” Zero emotion in her voice, but he sensed her displeasure. “And then what?”

“And tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be at the school for the second day of the workshop.” He paused. “And tomorrow night, I’m going to talk to AJ.”

“Talk to him about what?” she said in confusion.

He shot her a pointed look. “What do you think? I’m going to own up to being a selfish son of a bitch and confess that I slept with his ex-girlfriend. And afterwards, I expect I’ll be rewarded with a black eye, maybe two. Then again, AJ’s a lot deadlier than he looks, so it could be much worse.”

Darcy’s bewilderment only seemed to get stronger. “But you already told him everything.”

He frowned. “No, I didn’t.”

“But…” In the blink of an eye, she dashed to the living room and returned a moment later with her cell phone in hand. “He sent me this text earlier, and it totally sounded like he knew about us. You said you would tell him last week…”

“I say a lot of things,” Reed muttered. “But I didn’t tell him. I kept chickening out.” He sighed. “Can I read the text?”

She handed him the phone without a word. Reed skimmed the message, then heaved out another sigh, this one weary as hell. “I think he was talking about the self-defense class, Darce. About the
workshop
working out, not you and me working out.”

She was stricken. “Crap. Oh crap. I’m such an idiot.” A strangled noise popped out of her mouth. “The only reason I let this happen was because I thought I had his approval.”

Reed arched a brow. “That’s the only reason?”

She slowly shook her head. “No, it wasn’t just that. I wanted you. I won’t pretend I didn’t.” Her throat dipped as she visibly swallowed. “I
still
want you.”

His throat tightened. “I still want you, too.”

The confession jerked his cock to attention, as if the big guy wanted to voice his agreement. Christ. Ten minutes ago, he’d come so hard he’d seen black spots, and his dick was still nowhere near satisfied.

The memories of Darcy’s beautiful naked body flashed through his mind, taunting him. Her silky skin, endless curves, those perfect tits he’d barely even touched. There were still so many things he wanted to do to her, damn it. Flick his tongue over her pale pink nipples, lick the soft swells of her breasts, trail kisses along the flat expanse of her belly. And don’t even get him started on everything he could do south of that delicious border.

“Look…we’ve already crossed the line,” Darcy said miserably. “We might as well have a fling.”

His stomach went rigid. “A fling,” he echoed.

“Do you want to call it something else? A casual affair? A liaison?”

It didn’t escape him that the word
relationship
hadn’t made it on her synonym list, but then again, why would it? Reed knew what she thought of him. In Darcy’s eyes, he was a player, a bad boy, a shallow, impulsive man she’d never dream of getting serious with.

His heart clenched at the discouraging thought. Fine, maybe he’d been that way once upon a time, but over the past few years he’d worked his ass off to break those old destructive habits.

When he’d first met Darcy, he hadn’t taken one look at her and thought,
man, that’s a chick I want to bone
. He’d known right away that the woman was special. Everything about her, from her contagious laughter to her sunny demeanor to the way she challenged him, had told him Darcy Grant was someone he could fall in love with.

But evidently
he
wasn’t someone
she
could fall for.

Which hurt a lot more than he’d ever admit to her.

“So you just want to screw around with me for a while? A few days, a few weeks, maybe even a month?” It was difficult to curb the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

His heart only squeezed tighter when Darcy appeared genuinely confused by his hostility. “Are you saying you
don’t
want to have sex with me again? Because you seemed pretty into it ten minutes ago.”

How fucking perfect. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he might be interested in a relationship. In her mind, sex was all he was capable of wanting from someone.

But hell, why was he getting angry? It didn’t matter what he wanted. Even if she
had
viewed him as a worthy partner, she was still AJ’s ex-girlfriend. Any relationship they had would always be haunted by AJ. It’d be a never-ending spiral of guilt.

Sex, on the other hand, well, he was perfectly capable of performing
that
particular task, even when riddled with guilt. He’d get an ass kicking from AJ regardless, so why not experience a few more earth shattering orgasms with Darcy while he had the chance?

“You want a fling? Fine. I’ll give you a fling,” he said gruffly.

Her eyes narrowed. “You will?”

“Why not? You’re right, we already crossed the line. We might as well keep being selfish and have some fun.”

“What about AJ? Are you going to tell him?”

“I’ll tell him when we’re done having fun.” If the guilt didn’t eat him alive first. “I’m going to lose my best friend either way, so why not delay the inevitable?”

Sadness washed over her face. “So, what, we’ll sneak around for a few weeks? You’re going to see AJ at the club four nights a week and not say a word to him?” She gave the decisive shake of her head. “You’re wrong. Losing him isn’t inevitable, but it
will
be if you see me behind his back. We can’t have a fling, Reed. Not unless we tell AJ.”

Reed clenched his teeth. Damn it, she was right. He wouldn’t be able to stomach it if he fooled around with Darcy on the sly. AJ deserved better than that. They all deserved better than that.

“All right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Reed told her. “But depending on how the conversation goes, this fling you want might not work out.”

“I can live with that.” Her tone grew firm. “But AJ still needs to know.”

Reed nodded sadly. “Yes. He does.”

She nibbled on her lower lip again, a nervous habit he was growing accustomed to.

He couldn’t believe they were standing around talking about coming clean to AJ and asking his permission to engage in casual sex. It was fuckin’ ludicrous, and yet Reed had every intention of following through on it. Call him greedy, but he wanted to have his cake and eat it, too. He wanted to be honest with his best friend and find a way to keep AJ in his life.

But he also wanted Darcy.

He didn’t care if he only had her for a month, or a week, or even a day. Now that he’d gotten a taste of her, he wanted more. He was dying to explore the sexual chemistry between them. And yes, he didn’t need AJ’s permission to do that, but he didn’t feel right keeping secrets from his best friend.

“I’ll see if he can meet up tonight,” Reed said quietly. “If not, I’ll tell him tomorrow.” His gaze locked with hers. “The club closes at midnight during the week. Is that too late for you to see me?”

Uneasiness filled her eyes, along with the unmistakable gleam of anticipation. “No. It’s not too late.” Her voice was throaty.

“Even on a school night? You might be tired,” he pointed out.

“How about you just call me, and I can tell you whether I’m too tired for you to fuck me.” She let out a resigned sigh. “But I’m pretty sure the answer to that will never be
no
.”

…

Rather than heat up leftovers for dinner, Darcy decided to drop in on her mother. She was too wired to be alone at the moment and way too confused to be trusted with her own thoughts.

It didn’t take long to reach her mother’s house, a cute seventies-era rancher in the West Roxbury neighborhood. She pulled into the driveway and parked behind the blue pickup truck Carol Grant had been driving for years. Darcy rolled her eyes each time she saw the rusty old monstrosity. She’d pointed out to her mother on more than one occasion how much more difficult it was to maneuver the streets of Boston in the truck, but Carol refused to sell the pickup, no matter how many times her daughter tried to persuade her.

Darcy strolled into her childhood home without knocking and breathed in the familiar smell of pine cleaner and baked goods. The house had changed little in the forty or so years Carol had been living there. It boasted the same furniture, same wallpaper, even the same outdated kitchen counters.

Carol liked everything a certain way. She was predictable to the core and extremely averse to change, which was why Darcy always found it odd that her mom had married someone like Stuart Grant. Darcy’s dad was the farthest thing from predictable. His every decision, his every action, was the direct result of a whim. Sure, he was also the most charming man she’d ever met in her life, but he definitely wasn’t someone Darcy could rely on.

“Hey, Mom,” Darcy said, poking her head into the living room.

Carol was on the flower-patterned couch, a pair of knitting needles in her hands and a ball of blue yarn on the cushion beside her. “Darcy!” The older woman looked thrilled to find her daughter in the doorway. “You didn’t tell me you were coming by.”

“It was spur of the moment. I decided your leftovers would probably make for a better dinner than mine.” She sighed. “I swear, I follow all your recipes word for word, but my cooking never tastes half as good as yours.”

Her mother grinned. “That’s because you always forget the secret ingredient.”

“If you say love again, I’m going to—”

“
Love
,” her mother finished, beaming at her.

Darcy pretended to gag. “You’re the cheesiest person on the planet.”

“Yeah, but you still adore me.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She happened to adore her mother to death.

“I just need to finish up this row and then I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” Carol said, her deft fingers working the knitting needles with impressive speed. “Why don’t you make us a salad? I can heat up some lasagna to go with it.”

“Sounds good.”

Darcy wandered into the incredibly out-of-date kitchen and began gathering up ingredients for a salad. As she sliced tomatoes at the counter, her mind drifted to Reed, going over every detail of the out-of-this-world sex they’d had less than an hour ago.

In her living room.

Right on the desk she worked at almost every evening.

God, how would she ever be able to sit behind that desk again without thinking about it? Without thinking about
him
, and how astonishingly good he’d made her feel?

What was even more astonishing was her suggestion that they have a fling. Darcy had never seen the appeal of casual sex. She loved all the things that came with relationships. The cuddling, the intimacy, sharing her feelings, having someone to talk to.

She and AJ had mastered all of that, but the physical aspect of relationships was just as important to her, and sadly, she and AJ had never really found their groove. Even their kissing had been boring.

Kissing Reed, on the other hand, was not the least bit boring. It was exhilarating, and when she was with him, she experienced the excitement she’d been longing for.

But she wasn’t foolish enough to think he could offer anything more. In the five months she’d been with AJ, she hadn’t seen Reed get serious about anyone. His life was an endless parade of women, and Darcy had no intention of getting her heart broken by the man.

“Okay, tell me what’s on your mind.” Her mother entered the kitchen and spoke in a no-nonsense tone.

Darcy glanced up from her dicing. “What makes you think I have something on my mind?”

Carol snorted. “Ha. You actually expect me to believe you stopped by just to raid my fridge? On a school night? I know you better than that, sweetie.”

Great. Apparently she was equally predictable. “Fine, you caught me.”

Smiling, Carol pulled a large Tupperware container from the fridge and set it on the counter, then grabbed two plates from the aging wood cabinet next to the sink. “So what’s going on?”

Darcy was usually able to talk to her mom about anything, but sex wasn’t one of the topics she brought up freely. Feeling a tad awkward, she chose her words carefully. “I’m thinking of doing something potentially stupid.”

Carol sighed. “Is this another tattoo conversation? Because I already told you, I don’t care if you get one. Just make sure it’s not a butterfly at the small of your back. I was at the supermarket the other day and there was a woman about your age with one of those. I saw it when she bent over to get something from the bottom shelf. Oh, and her thong was peeking out of her jeans. It was horrifying.”

Darcy burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to get a tramp stamp.”

“Is that what they’re called? That’s not a very nice term.”

“No, it’s not, but most of the slang these days isn’t very nice.” She bit her lip. “I’m considering having a casual…affair, I guess? Yeah, a casual affair.”

Carol’s eyes grew serious. “Well. You’ve gone out on casual dates before, no?”

“Dates, sure. But even if it’s just a first date, I still go into it entertaining the possibility that it could lead to something more. With this, I know for a fact that it won’t.”

“Why do you say that?”

She paused, thinking about Reed’s rough-around-the-edges personality. He’d already admitted to being impulsive, and she knew from AJ that he’d never had a serious relationship in his life.

“He’s not really my type,” Darcy admitted. “He’s sort of a bad boy. Has a wild reputation, doesn’t take things very seriously.”

“Sounds a bit like your father.”

She frowned, realizing her mother wasn’t too far off base. Her dad was definitely impulsive, sweeping into her life a couple of times a year with his magnetic, larger-than-life personality. Darcy didn’t think she’d ever had a meaningful conversation with the man.