Take What You Want (6 page)

She eyed him for a second. “You’re not neglecting any schoolwork?”

“Mom. It’s spring break.”

“You know your father’s going to ask before the two of you head off this weekend.”

Right. The annual father-son camping trip. If only it would be as easy as neglecting his schoolwork to get out of going.

He could already feel the weight of all the uncomfortable questions, all the expectations. He pushed them aside and forced a smile.

“I promise, Mom. I’m good.”

“All right then, if you say so.” She presented her cheek for a kiss. “Have a good time.”

After a quick peck, he agreed. “Will do. Don’t wait up.”

“We never do.”

Chuckling, he headed back downstairs just long enough to grab his jacket and keys before heading out. While he’d already decided to take his car tonight, he couldn’t resist walking through the garage on his way to it and running his hands over the chrome and leather trim of his Harley. He knew every inch of her, every pipe and every fastening; he’d fixed her up from scratch, only took her out on special occasions.

Yesterday had been special, all right.

He’d asked Ellen to go for a ride as a lark, just to see how she’d react. To find out if her façade would crack. Her uncertainty had been clear, but she’d climbed on all the same, putting on a brave face that had been even sexier than the one she’d worn in the bar. He loved a girl who wasn’t afraid of an adventure, of getting her hands dirty or doing something risky.

He’d been the one risking life and limb, though, trying to drive while under the influence of her scent, her breath, her touch.

God, but she’d almost killed him, clinging to him the way she had. A hundred times on the way home, he’d cursed himself for not taking them to her apartment and carrying her upstairs, driving into her right there on her entryway floor. She’d cleaved to him so tightly, pressed those hot hands to his abdomen in a way that made his skin scream out for more, more,
more
.

But three times was a pattern, and he’d seen a future he didn’t like spread out before him. If he’d given in and just taken her again, without ceremony or discussion, it would have doomed them. And wanting more wasn’t just about wanting her body.

He wanted the seductress in the high heels and short skirts, all right, the one that oozed sex and confidence. But he wanted the girl in the plain sweaters with the loose waves that fell over her face, too. The one that hid in the last row of the lecture hall but who always knew the answers. The one that dissected a pig all by herself, looking kissable even in a rubber apron and goggles and gloves.

He wanted her to want more than a fuck from him. He wanted her to
remember
him. To know him.

And this was his chance—his chance to prove to her that he was worth more.

He patted the seat of his bike twice for luck, then let himself out. His car was parked in the turnaround as usual, and he gave it a quick scan to check that it was clean inside before climbing in. He considered taking the motorcycle again, but he figured he’d pushed her—and his self-control—enough the day before. Besides, the early spring air could still get chilly at night, and he was hoping one of her skirts might make another appearance.

In that respect, he wasn’t disappointed. When he finally pulled up in front of her building, she was waiting outside, looking like a fantasy, all long, bare legs and windswept hair, her lips pouty and shiny. He double-parked and got out, striding toward her with a smile stretching the edges of his mouth. Meeting her on the curb, he swallowed hard before resting his hand on her waist and leaning in to brush his lips against her cheek. It felt presumptuous and intimate to put himself so close to her, but she didn’t pull away. His throat grew rough, and his heart surged.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, kissing his way toward her ear.

She hummed and touched his chest, tilting her neck and giving him more of herself to kiss. “You look nice, too.”

“Thanks.” He pressed his lips once more over her pulse point, then stood up straight and slid his hand to the small of her back. “After you.”

He held his breath as they made their way toward his car. She let him hold the door for her and glanced up at him as she folded herself into the seat. Her skirt rose up on her thighs, and from this angle, he could see down her shirt.

He closed the door and took the long way around to his side of the car, forcing a few long, hard breaths before climbing in beside her. The instant they were closed inside that space together, all his efforts at calming himself were for naught. He’d been inside her twice, but sitting there like that, going out like normal people, felt like another thing entirely. He glanced over at her, only to find her gazing at him, her expression easy and sure. And she looked so beautiful.

Out of nowhere, he said, “Thank you.”

Her laughter rang out like bells. “For what?”

“For agreeing to go out with me.”

She reached over and put her hand on his knee. “Thanks for asking.”

“Right.” He couldn’t help grinning. He’d asked, and she’d said yes. “Right.”

With that, he turned the key in the ignition and positioned both hands securely on the wheel.

It was a quiet ride over to the restaurant. At some point, she asked where they were going, and he grinned, kept his eyes on the road and told her she’d find out soon enough. It wasn’t as if he was really keeping her guessing. In a little college town, there weren’t all that many options, and when they pulled up in front of his favorite Italian place, there was a smug tilt to her mouth.

“You’re okay with Italian?”

“Love it.”

He got out and went around to her side of the car. He wasn’t in time to get her door for her, but he could at least take her hand as she stepped out. The whole walk across the parking lot, he didn’t let it go.

Inside, the usually bustling restaurant was unusually slow, just like everything else was when classes weren’t in session, and before long, they were seated across from each other in a quiet booth in the back. As he perused the menu, Josh kept darting his gaze over to Ellen to take in her face. She read with her full attention, and in spite of the make-up and the styled hair, she looked so much like the girl from the other side of the lecture hall that it made his chest tight. Finally, she put down her menu and smiled at him.

“Figure out what you want?”

She nodded, licking her lips and gazing at him. “I think so.”

“Good.” He stared right back, as caught up as ever in her.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the moment. Josh looked up to find a waiter hovering, his expression clearly questioning whether he should stay or go. Josh folded his menu up and nodded. Once they’d placed their orders, the waiter retreated just as quickly as he’d come, and Josh was left alone with Ellen.

For a minute, all he could do was stare.

She was the first to glance away. “So…” she said.

“So.”

“This is us. On a date.”

“That it is.” Just the thought made him smile. He reached across the table and held his hands out, silently asking. She hesitated, gaze down, but then placed her palms in his. “I really am glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Only her eyes still weren’t meeting his.

“Hey.” He squeezed her fingers. “Look at me?”

Her gaze rose, her shoulders straightening.

He drew in a deep breath and rubbed her knuckles. “I asked you out because I want to get to know you. This weekend…” His voice trailed off as flashes of heat slid over his skin.

Fortunately, she finished his sentence for him. “Was amazing.”

“So amazing.” He lifted their joined hands and leaned forward to press one soft kiss to the back of each. “And I just…I want to know you.”

She flinched but didn’t shut down. “I already told you. There’s not much to tell.”

“And I already told you, I don’t believe you.”

Her gaze followed their hands as he lowered them down to the table. Her voice low and just a little distant, she asked, “When do classes start up again for you?”

Right. Because she still thought he would be leaving soon.

“Monday,” he answered honestly. “But my dad and I are leaving Saturday for this…camping thing.”

“So you’re leaving in four days.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. “Yes.”

“We met on Saturday and you’re leaving on Saturday. A week and a day. And you want to get to know me?” Her voice was disaffected, but there was something wavering to it, too. “Is it even worth it?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate, didn’t give an inch. With his eyes, he tried to tell her what he didn’t have words yet to say. “To me, it is. The question is, will you let me?”

She didn’t answer, just withdrew her hands and looked away at the TV in the corner. Everything about her posture was affected nonchalance, but there was tension in there, too. The downward tug at the corner of her mouth and the tapping of her nail against her lip. And it was…horrible. Awkward and awful and…

Silently cursing at himself, he balled up his napkin in his fist. He’d had to press. He’d just had to.

But how else was he going to get what he wanted from her?

Just then, she started, turning toward him, fingers going to her hair and lips parting as if she were about to speak. His heart rose into his throat, but the instant her gaze connected with his, she darted it away again. Twisted her whole body away.

But she’d wanted to talk to him. She had.

And he could wait as long as she needed him to.

It didn’t take that long, after all. Three more aborted attempts at speech, each more resolved than the last, and she finally faced him straight-on. The uncertain motions were all gone now, her elbow anchored to the edge of the table, hand loosely curled in the air in front of her.

“You really want to do this?”

Did she even know what she was asking?

Voice and gaze both dead level, he said, simply, “Yes.”

Before she could say anything else, the waiter reappeared and set two plates down in front of them. Josh didn’t so much as look down at the food, didn’t look up when the man asked if they had everything they needed. Still staring at Ellen, he answered, “I think we do.”

For the longest moment, their plates remained there, untouched in front of them. Ellen lowered her arm but kept her gaze steady, her chin lifted. “Fine,” she said, unfolding her napkin and draping it over her lap. “Go ahead. Ask me anything you want.”

With that, she tucked into her meal, winding up a healthy portion of pasta on her fork before lifting it to her mouth. Josh sat there, his chest humming and warm as the questions danced in his head. She stopped with the bite right in front of her, though.

“One limitation.”

“What’s that?”

The corner of her mouth twisted up. “Whatever you ask me, you have to answer yourself.”

Did she know? Did she know that her charade was his charade?

Half the questions faded from his mind as his jaw flexed. “That seems fair enough.” They both ate in silence for a few minutes as he gathered his thoughts. When he’d figured things out, he put his knife and fork down and leaned back against the seat. “All right.”

Rapid fire, he shot out a dozen questions about absolutely nothing. Favorite songs and television shows and books. Childhood toys and role models. She answered each question with a clipped response, and he gave his own reply before sailing into the next.

Then he took a deep breath.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

That rattled her. She paused, then chewed slowly and wiped her mouth. Her gaze was a challenge, and she sat up straighter before answering, “A doctor.”

The warmth in his chest from when she’d suggested this game grew brighter.

Tell me who you
are
.

“Why?”

“Uh-uh-uh.” She waved her finger in front of him. “Your turn first.”

The back of his throat soured. “I told you, I’m pre-med.”

“So you want to be a doctor?”

“Seems like the logical implication.”

She lifted her chin and peered at him, one eye narrowing. “I’m sensing evasion.”

How long had he been avoiding this question? With a sigh, he stretched out his arm to tap on his fork. “My dad’s a doctor. His dad was a doctor.”

“And…”

“And they expect me to be one, too.”

“But you don’t want that.”

He shrugged. “It’s a little late to be changing my mind.”

“Bullshit.” His gaze jerked up, but she just shrugged. “I call bullshit.” Pointing her fork at him, she insisted, “The question was, what do you
want
to be when you grow up. You haven’t touched that one.”

There was something to her gaze, something that peeled through the layers of apathy he’d tried to cultivate around this part of his life, something that made him want to confess to all his secret plans.

He picked up his butter knife and seesawed it back and forth across his knuckles. “I majored in chemistry. It’s a good choice for pre-med anyway, and I just…
like
it. One of the professors kind of took me under his wing and stuff, and I’ve been working in his lab. It’s…nice. Less memorizing, more math. No patients or worrying about who you’re going to kill that day. More my speed, you know?”