Taming Lo: A You and I Novel (11 page)

I rest a six pack of beer on top of the pizza that I
just picked up from the little pizza diner down the street. I somehow
manage to balance them in one hand long enough to knock on Lo's door.
It's just after seven on Sunday evening. I know she's not working and
her car is outside, so I can only assume she's home. Or at least, I
hope she is.

It takes less than ten seconds before the door flies
open and Lo's blue eyes hit mine, a look of surprise crossing her
features. She looks like she's been lounging in sweats all day. Her
face is void of makeup. Her blonde waves are tied up haphazardly with
various pieces falling down everywhere. She's dressed in plaid pink
pajama bottoms and a white tank and honestly, looks more beautiful
than I have ever seen her before.

“
What.... What
are you doing here?” She asks, clearly surprised by my
unannounced arrival, her eyes immediately looking down at her attire.

“
I'm here to
call a truce.” I smile, holding up the pizza box in one hand
and the six pack of beer in the other. “I owe you an apology.”

“
For what?”
She cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes at me. I knew she
wouldn't make this easy on me.

“
For the way I
treated you last week. I had no right.....”

“
To call me a
slut?” She cuts me off, crossing her arms in front of her
chest.

“
I didn't call
you a slut.” I remind her, not able to control the smile that
pulls at my lips. She is so infuriating and yet, so damn cute at the
same time.

“
You might as
well have.” She bites, not giving even an inch.

“
I was
completely out of line for making any such statement. And I meant
what I said a while back, about us being friends. So, what do you
say?” I ask, shaking the pizza and beer in front of her,
smiling wider when I see her fighting her own smile.

“
You can't just
fix things with Pizza and Beer ya know?” She questions, eying
the items in my hands.

“
Perhaps not,
but I think it's a pretty good start.” I wave the pizza box in
front of her face, laughing out when she catches the scent and
inhales.

“
Fine.”
She pushes the door further open and takes a step back to let me in.
“But don't think for one second that pumping me full of grease
and beer is going to get you anywhere.” She quips, closing the
door the moment I am inside.

Chapter
Sixteen

Lo

When he showed up at my door just over two hours ago,
all cute in his faded jeans and v-neck tee, I swear I nearly had a
heart attack. Not only because he was here, standing in my doorway,
but also because I was wearing the same clothes I went to bed in last
night and had yet to touch my hair with a brush since yesterday
morning.

To say his unexpected
appearance surprised me is the understatement of the year. But the
fact that I was happy to see him, well that was even more surprising.
But there it was, just the same. I was happy. I
am
happy.

Originally I wanted to hold onto the anger I felt
towards him after the last time we spoke. Hating him just seems so
much easier than liking him. But as soon as he hit me with that
boyish grin of his, my anger all but dissolved right there on the
spot.

Now, Dax is laid back on the opposite end of the couch
from me, his legs stretched out across the cushions as he faces
toward me. I didn't think it was possible to share such easy
conversation with a man like Dax, but once we started talking, we
just didn't stop.

We
managed to eat our way through the entire medium pizza he brought
over from
Mongos
and
even killed the six pack plus four more beers that I had in the
fridge. And during that time, I learned a great deal about him that I
did not know before tonight.

I learned that he's thirty-one years old and originally
from Connecticut. His parents are divorced and still live there,
though he's not extremely close to either one. He has no siblings and
no other family that he really speaks to on a regular basis. He
attended college with Bentley and graduated with a degree in
Business. He also loves motorcycles, which is not surprising at all.
I can totally envision him speeding down the road, the wind whipping
around him, the freedom it probably brings him.

And
while I have learned a lot, there is still so much more that I
want
to
know. Getting him to talk about personal details of his life is
almost like pulling teeth. He clams up and almost always changes the
subject after giving me a short vague answer. But that doesn't stop
me from trying to learn everything I can about him.

“
Tell
me about your tattoos.” I lean my head to the side and pull my
legs up onto the couch cushions, mirroring the way he's sitting. His
legs are so long that when I do, our feet touch. He doesn't seem to
mind the contact though and considers my question before answering.

“
A
lot of them are just little things that I have had done over the
years. Some artwork that a couple of my tattoo artist friends have
drawn up and stuff. There's really no significance to a good deal of
them.” He says, looking down at his forearms.

“
But
some of them do have significance, yes?” I question, smiling
when his hazel eyes meet mine, my stomach doing a nervous flip. I try
to ignore the feelings that seem to swarm me in his presence and push
forward. “Tell me what they are.” I tack on.

“
Perhaps
another time.” He smiles, turning himself forward so that his
feet are once again on the floor. “I really should get going.”
He says, running a hand through his messy hair.

“
Why
won't you tell me about them?” I ask, pushing myself off of the
couch and crossing the short space between us. Flopping down directly
next to him, I take his left arm in my hand and gently run my fingers
along his ink covered skin.

“
There's
not much to tell.” He turns his face inward, his eyes meeting
mine for a fraction of a second before I look back down at his arm,
not able to take the heat of his gaze.

Everything about this man makes my insides burn and
causes my skin to prickle. I have never had the desire to be close to
another person the way I want to be close to him, and not even in a
sexual way. I just like being near him. The thought is terrifying,
and yet strangely enough, gives me a sense of peace at the same time.

“
Let's
see here.” I pull his arm into my lap and continue to run my
fingers along his flesh, tracing the outline of each tattoo as I
distinguish each one from the dozens of others. “A cross.”
I observe, tracing the outline.

I keep going, my fingers traveling higher up his arm,
past some symbols and other various pieces of artwork that cover a
good portion of his forearm and lower bicep. His skin prickles under
my touch when I push his sleeve up, revealing a large phoenix, it's
wings covering the entire span of his massive bicep.

Standing, I step in between his legs and drop to my
knees, taking his right arm in my hands. He doesn't draw away from my
touch like I expect him to but instead, leans forward and meets my
gaze before following my eyes downward.

“
A
dragon.” I say, skirting my fingertip along the flames coming
from it's mouth. “What's this?” I ask, reaching a patch
of words that appear to be written in a different language.

“
It's
just a quote.” He shrugs.

“
I
figured that much.” I laugh, looking up to find his eyes
focused on my fingers against his skin. “But what does it
mean?”

“
Beauty is
not beauty beyond beauty.
”
He
says, his eyes finally meeting mine. “It's just a fancy way of
saying that true beauty lies beyond what you can see.” He says,
holding my gaze for a long moment before I flip my eyes back down to
his arm.

Once
I have examined every inch of his inked skin, I trail both of my
hands down his forearms and then grab his wrists, flipping them
upward. I come to a stop over the initials
CTR
on
his left wrist, tracing across it with the pad of my thumb.

“
What
does this stand for?” I ask, waiting a few seconds before
looking up to find him staring down at the tattoo.

“
Nothing
really.” He shrugs. “A reminder.” He finally meets
my gaze. There is something in his eyes that instantly sends my heart
galloping inside of my chest.

“
A
reminder of what?” I ask weakly, holding my breath when he
leans forward slightly, our noses almost touching.

“
Of
who I was. Of who I will never be again.” He breathes, hovering
just inches from my face for a long moment.

I can't stop my tongue from darting out across my bottom
lip. I want him to kiss me so badly, it is taking everything I have
not to just close the distance between us and press my lips to his. I
wonder what he would do if I broke one of his rules?

The
thought of doing just that is so tempting that I almost do it. But
then I remember
my
rules
and how badly I
need
him
to respect them and as such, I hold tight. Wanting something so badly
and yet accepting that I can't have it at the same time is a torture
that I have yet to endure until this very moment.

He hovers there for what feels like an eternity, his
eyes burning deeply into mine, before abruptly turning away. “Why
don't you kiss?” I don't mean to ask the question. It slips
from my lips without me ever intending to speak the words.

“
I
do kiss.” His cocky demeanor falls into place and the intimacy
of the moment is gone. I know this is his way of pushing me back, of
not letting me get too close. I understand it and recognize it
because it is exactly what I do.

“
You
know what I mean.” I say, pushing at his chest playfully.

“
Why?
Do you
want
me
to kiss you?” He asks, leaning towards me as he secures his
hand behind my head and holds me firm so that I can't move. His eyes
dance across my lips and then meet my eyes again.

“
Do
you want me to kiss you Lo?” He asks again. I can tell by the
playfulness in his eyes and the smirk on his face that he is just
doing this to mess with me. Pushing his arm away, he immediately
drops his grip on me.

“
Don't
flatter yourself.” I push at his chest. “You really won't
tell me though?” I try one last time to find out why he has
such a ridiculous rule for himself.

I mean, I get certain rules, but kissing? Kissing is one
of the best parts of hooking up with someone. I can't ever recall
sleeping with a man that I didn't kiss at least once before he was
inside of me. Well, until Dax anyways.

“
No.”
He shakes his head but his tone remains light. “But I really
should go.” He says, shaking his head again as he stands.

“
I'm
sorry. I didn't mean to pry.” I say, jumping up to follow him
through the space until he stops just feet from the door.

“
You
didn't do anything wrong.” He promises, reaching out to lightly
trail his hand along my jaw. “Thank you for tonight.” He
smiles, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me
towards him.

“
It
was fun.” He speaks against my forehead before laying a light
kiss across it. “I will see you at the club tomorrow.” He
says, pulling back and giving me a small smile before pulling the
door open and disappearing into the hallway.

The moment he's gone, I shut the door and collapse
against it. As much as I know that there can never be anything other
than friendship with Dax, that doesn't stop me from wanting more. He
makes me want things I never imagined I would want again.
Unfortunately, my want doesn't change my past. And it certainly does
not change who I am today. I am just going to have to find a way to
resist the urge to break every single one of my rules for him. I just
hope I have the strength to do it.

Chapter
Seventeen

Lo

In some weird way, it's like the moment that I accepted
that Dax could only be my friend and put all of my bullshit behind
me, we just kind of fell into this amazing friendship. Five weeks
have passed since the night he showed up at my apartment with pizza
and an apology.