Three Little Words (2 page)

            Instead of stuttering or just backing right back out the door, he answered, which made his esteem rise in my eyes.

            “Didn’t you invite me?” Those brilliant blue eyes of his were surrounded by lashes far too long and thick to fairly belong to a guy. The stare emanating out of them was fixed on me.

            Dude was shy, but had guts.

            It was sexy as hell.

            “Why are you here, Malachi?” I wondered if he would get what I meant, and the smallest thread of insecurity snaked its way through my body.

            Those intelligent eyes of his narrowed, and he nodded in acknowledgement of what I both was and wasn’t asking.

            “You’re... interesting.” He said, his voice thickening just the slightest bit. That husky sound sent a shiver running down my spine. Made the heated space between my legs ache.

            Sometimes it helped to fill the empty space inside of me with a warm body, with kisses and caresses, even if they didn’t mean anything.

            This guy... he seemed different. I was intrigued.

            “Bingo, smarty pants.” I didn’t feel nearly as cocky as I sounded when I winked at him and pushed myself off of the wall that I’d been leaning on.

            He was so not my type, and I wasn’t labouring under any kind of delusion that I was his, either.

            But there was a little something between us.

            I was pleased that he hadn’t denied it.

            “Well, I could use some coffee, too.”

            I cast a look over my shoulder, amused. He had dropped his book bag at the front door and was following me, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was looking around, taking in his surroundings.

            For a brief moment I wondered what he thought, because I had decorated my apartment to be an extension of my own eclectic self. No leather couches or beige walls for me—I’d had enough of that shit before I’d left home at seventeen.

            I watched him look around, and after a quick pang of worry I deliberately shrugged the feeling away.

            Either he liked me the way I was, or he didn’t. Full stop. I’d wasted too many miserable years trying to be someone I wasn’t.

            “What do you take in your coffee?” Gesturing to one of the mismatched bar stools that lined my kitchen counter, I rummaged in my fridge, the cool air a welcome sensation on my heated cheeks. “I have skim milk or some hazelnut creamer.”

            When I straightened back up, the fridge door closing behind me with an embarrassingly loud creak, I found Mal eyeing my roller skates, which I had unceremoniously dumped in a corner of the kitchen after the last time I’d used them.

            He looked perplexed, and I grinned a bit to myself before sliding the two cartons in my hand down the counter to him.

            “Mal? Your coffee?” I pulled two mismatched cups from my cupboard, then ladled instant grounds and boiling water into each. I had a coffeepot, but I liked the cheap stuff.

            I kept the mug that said
Sarcasm Still Loading
for myself. His featured a T-Rex drinking from a dainty teacup with his dino pinkie in the air.

            Mal accepted his cup, and I thought his lips might have twitched a bit when he looked at the design on it. He didn’t comment on it as he poured a generous glop of hazelnut creamer into the steaming liquid, instead gesturing towards my skates.

            “Roller skates? That’s unusual.” His voice didn’t hold any of the censure that I often heard when people told me I was different, that judgement that made me sizzle with satisfaction before crashing headlong into disappointment. No, in its place was pure curiosity, and I found that I liked it.

            A lot.

            “It’s good exercise.” In actuality, roller skating was something I’d done a lot with my mom as a kid, and was my last link to her. Trying to play it cool, I shrugged and lifted my mug to my lips. The coffee was still close to boiling, and it scalded my tongue.

            Mal said nothing, just continued to watch me with those amazing eyes. I stared right back as he assessed me. I felt like maybe I should be irritated as he made no bones about the fact that he was trying to figure me out.

            I wasn’t upset, though if he’d just asked I could have told him that I wasn’t nearly as complicated as most people thought. A creature of impulse, I did whatever felt good.

            Still, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to yank on his chain.

            “You know, I’m not an animal in a zoo.” I smirked when he blinked at me—I had startled him.

            “I wasn’t—I mean, I don’t—” Clearly flustered, he ran his hand over his hair, his expression sheepish. Inhaling deeply, he pinned me with that look again—that look that made me feel like I was the only girl in the world.

            I didn’t even want to admit to myself how much I liked that feeling. No one had ever looked at me like that before.

            I hadn’t known I’d wanted them to.

            “You’re just interesting. One of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.” He waited, watchful.

            I couldn’t help a smile from tugging up the corners of my lips.

            “You’re very easy to tease. You’re going to have to work on your poker face.” I eyed him over the rim of my mug. “So... why law school?”

            “Seemed like the thing to do.” He had the good grace to grin when I groaned, though I thought saw a ripple of unhappiness pass beneath the still waters that were his eyes. “What about you? Why nursing?”

            I tapped my fingers on the counter for a moment before I answered. I’d gone into nursing because my stepfather had been appalled at the notion of me working as a ‘doctor’s handmaiden’, as he put it.

            Women in his family didn’t work—they whiled away their days with lunch at the country club and happy pills washed down with vodka lemonade. They did what the men folk told them to, even if what those men folk wanted was disgusting.

            But I wasn’t going to tell Mal any of that. Instead I mock glowered.

            “Let me guess. You thought I was an art student? Theatre, maybe? Some starving artist type?”

            Only a hint of irritation flashed through me—I’d long ago decided not to care what other people thought of me. “Don’t judge the book’s cover, and all that.”

            Picking up his own mug, he took a long swallow of coffee, eyeing me over the rim. I was transfixed by the muscles working in his throat.

            “I happen to think the book’s cover is pretty great too.” The smile that curved his lips melted my insides like butter on a sunny day, and it took me a moment to register the compliment. He might have been a boy next door type, but that didn’t stop him from being sexy as hell.

            The heat spread lower, and for one crazy moment I thought about kissing him—about fisting my hands in that thick hair and sinking my teeth into his lower lip. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t have pulled away.

            Something held me back, though we stared at one another for a long, tense moment, his breathing growing as ragged to my ears as my own felt in my throat.

            Finally I swallowed and looked down, tucking my neon red hair behind my ears, a shy gesture that I wasn’t in the habit of making. I didn’t know what it was, but something about this guy was different.

            I squashed the thought as quickly as I could. He might have been into me, but I refused to believe it was with anything but that ‘zoo’ quality I’d commented on moments earlier. I was like an exotic bird that had come into his orbit. He wanted me, but he would have no idea what to do with me if he caught me.

            And when he set me, the exotic bird, free because he didn’t know what to do with me, my heart would be crushed. Just because I was quirky, didn’t mean I couldn’t get my heart broken.

            I certainly wasn’t going to say any of this to him. I wanted him, and I was pretty sure he wanted me back. I would have him, but it would have to be on my own terms. It was the smart thing to do.

            So I forced my favorite saucy smile onto my face and gestured to him casually with my mug.

            “You up for a movie?” I watched his expression waver, pleased that my mood didn’t crash, even when faced with possible rejection.

            “I
should
go study.” His eyes scanned my face, which I hoped was set in a neutral expression.

            I opened my mouth to tell him it was fine, but he cut me off.

            “But as long as you don’t make me watch a chick flick, then this sounds like a hell of a lot more fun.” He grinned at me, and I was flooded with more delight than I had anticipated.

            “Dude. You’re just asking for a Pretty Woman marathon.” I grinned when he blanched, feeling back on even footing.

            Like I said, I wanted him. But the only people I’d ever cared about in my life had let me down, so I wanted to protect my heart even more.

            I stood at Adele’s front door, that glittery purple frame that she’d glued to the wood at eye level. I didn’t know why a person would glue anything to their front door, and I guess that was pretty representative of my feelings about her in general.

            The girl confused the hell out of me. We’d been hanging out for weeks and I hadn’t gotten so much as a kiss. She wanted me, I was pretty sure, and I sure as hell felt the same. I was lusting after her so bad that it actually, physically ached, and I’d had more than one bad moment where I’d had to be creative to hide my rock solid erection from her.

            But Adele wasn’t like any of the other girls I’d ever known, the ones who had seemed to be okay with a certain pattern of behaviour regarding dates, kissing and sex.

            With Adele I was on uncertain ground, and so I’d been letting her lead. But I was here tonight, a dumb bouquet of what the florist had told me were wildflowers in hand, because I wasn’t sure I could wait anymore.

            She wasn’t my type, not at all. She didn’t fit into the neat little world I’d carved out for myself, the world with the right fraternity, the right degree, the right girlfriend.

            Maybe that was the attraction right there. That little world hadn’t been carved out by me, but by my father. Adele represented everything that my old man would hate, which would have made her attractive even if she wasn’t, you know,
attractive
.

            No matter how different we were, I wanted her, I just had no idea how to show her. Looking down at the flowers that I was clutching tightly, I shook my head and groaned at my own pathetic self.

            She was going to laugh her ass off at me when I gave these things to her. And then she was going to invite me in for yet more coffee.

            I didn’t want any more coffee. I wanted sex. I wanted to know what that pale skin felt like under my fingers, wanted to know what her hair smelled like.

            Wanted to know what noise she would make when I drew her nipple into my mouth, when I slid my hand between my legs. When I spread those creamy thighs of hers wide and finally, finally slid my cock into her wet heat.

            But it was more than just sex, and I knew it. I wanted to possess her, wanted her to be mine. I wanted to be comfortable enough to hold her in my arms at night and tell her how much I hated living up to what was expected of me.

            “Christ, Hunter. Get your shit together.” I tried to shake thoughts of fucking Adele senseless or worse, holding her tenderly, from my mind as I knocked, then wished I’d waited another minute because my cock, teased by the erotic mental pictures, had started to thicken, pressing against the stiff denim of my jeans.

            If I couldn’t settle myself down, I was going to embarrass myself in more ways than one. Though actually Adele didn’t strike me as the kind of girl who would take a boner on her behalf as anything other than a compliment.

            I heard the rattle of the deadbolt, and then the door swung open.

            “Hey.” Adele’s voice was one of the sexiest things I’d ever heard. It gave me something to focus on besides my nerves when she looked at the flowers I was holding. Some dark emotion flickered through her eyes, followed quickly by surprise.

            I felt like an idiot. What was I going to do, ask her to go steady?

            I opened my mouth, to say what, I wasn’t sure. She beat me to it.

            “Are those for me?” Adele sounded as puzzled as she looked as she studied my face. I watched as a tentative smile bloomed over those full, gorgeous lips.

            There was an awkward pause during which I realized that this wasn’t a rhetorical question.

            “Uh. Yeah.” I fought the urge to mutter and stare at my feet. I sure as hell wasn’t a virgin, but something about Adele made me feel like I was a hormonal teenager again. “They’re wildflowers.

            Like your tattoos.”

            Adele looked from the riot of flowers inked on her forearms to the bouquet that I still held. An emotion that I couldn’t quite identify flickered over that perfect, gorgeous face, and relief rushed through me.

            “Thank you.” She graced me with that smile that I loved so much, the one that lit up her entire face. I was so thrilled that my grand gesture had worked, and was so busy trying to figure out how to work in a little kiss, that I didn’t see it coming.

            I felt the coolness of her palms on my cheeks, and then—
holy shit
—her lips were on mine.

            I think I sucked in a big mouthful of air, but every nerve in my body was suddenly on alert and I couldn’t have been sure. I couldn’t have even said if she meant the kiss to be sweet or sexy, because my hormones took over and I wrapped my arms around her, tangling my fingers in her hair, and kissing her back with all of the sexual tension that I’d stored up in the last few weeks.