Another Shot At Love Page 5

  I needed to cool it. The thoughts running through my head weren’t PG-13, and I blamed it on Roxanna. She’d made it sound okay—simple—to sleep with a man without any emotional strings attached, and now it was all I could think about. Matt wasn’t looking for serious, I wasn’t looking for serious. It was perfect. He was perfect.

  And you are drunk, I reminded myself.

  Until now, I had never in my life considered a one night stand. There were butterflies in my stomach going wild and I folded my hands into my lap, afraid of what I might do with them if I left them free to roam. What I wanted to do was cup Matt’s face and pull him in for a hot, sloppy kiss.

  What if this were the last night I’d ever see him? Lincoln was pretty big; it wasn’t likely I’d run into him on the street. What if fate had other plans for the both of us? What if I would be haunted for the rest of my life about not kissing the most gorgeous man I’d ever met?

  My heart continued to knock against my ribcage while my hormones warred with my conscience. I kept glancing sideways at him; my nerves kept my tongue tied. He probably wondered why I was suddenly quiet when I’d been a chatterbox all night. I had to break eye contact because the gravitational pull toward his lips was too intense—my willpower was slowly crumbling. The air inside the cab grew stuffy and my hands were clammy, but there was nothing to wipe them on.

  It’s just one kiss!!! I told myself. You aren’t proposing, he’s not proposing. Get a grip, seriously!

  But I couldn’t get a grip. I was suddenly an indecisive mess and the time to take action slipped away as the cab drew closer to my apartment with each passing second. I wouldn’t kiss him in the backseat of this cab. How tacky would that be? So I kept my hands clasped tightly in my lap to keep from touching him. I kept my eyes on the view out the windshield.

  I wasn’t even tipsy anymore. Well, not as tipsy. Not when my nerves were on edge like this. And I was horny. I crossed my legs and shifted away from him, which was hard to do with his arm was draped over my shoulders instead of the backseat.

  You’re not nervous because of a kiss, you’re nervous because you want to rip his clothes off.

  It was outrageous, what I was considering—taking him up to my apartment when I’d only just met him a few hours ago. The mental images made me lightheaded. I worried he knew exactly the thoughts crashing through my mind. If he had even the slightest suspicion…

  Oh God, what if he thinks I’m a slut???!!!

  That did it. I definitely was not coming on to this guy. It didn’t matter that I wanted to find out how soft his lips would feel against mine. And it sure as hell didn’t matter that my panties were wet.

  No way will I let this gorgeous man go anywhere thinking that I, Imogen Mae Gorecki, am a slut.

  I steeled my shoulders, squeezed my legs together and told myself to quit acting like some sex crazed teenager on a mission to lose her virginity.

  The cab stopped at the curb in front of the four-plex apartment building where I lived, and Matt opened the door and got out. I took his offered hand and stepped out beside him on the street, and said, “My apartment is around the corner, top floor.”

  I rubbed my arms; the goose bumps had nothing to do with the temperature outside. It was beautiful out. The warm breeze normally would have soothed me but I was a hot mess right then. The lawn was lit up by the street lamps casting a yellow glow on us. Most of the apartments in the complex were dark inside, but a few windows shined bright with lights from inside. If it were my apartment, I’d have the curtains drawn.

  Matt knocked on the passenger window and waited for the driver to roll it down. Leaning toward the window, Matt said, “I’ll be just a minute. I’m going to walk her to the door.”

  “I’ll keep the meter running,” the driver said, annoyed at the inconvenience.

  Matt ignored him and turned to me. “Shall we?”

  “You really don’t need to walk me to my door,” I said, giddy he’d chosen to. It would give me a few more minutes with him. The night was quiet except for the crickets chirping.

  “It’s not a problem. I’m happy to.” He smiled down at me, that ridiculously adorable boyish half smile. “I was raised better than to make a girl walk home alone.”

  And he’s charming, too, I mused as I stepped onto the wood deck steps leading up to my apartment with Matt close behind.

  This guy was measuring up to be the very essence of what I considered Mr. Perfect to be. I had to concentrate on taking the steps up to the second floor patio I wouldn’t fall. At the top of the steps, I smiled nervously at him under the dim light of my porch lamp. The bulb needed to be replaced, its light offering little more than a dull, sickly glow of yellow while I dug through my purse for my keys.

  “You really should change that light bulb,” Matt said, glancing around us.

  “I know,” I said, pushing aside my wallet to dig to the bottom of my oversized purse. “I kind of take for granted that this is supposed to be a safe neighborhood.”

  “Until an alien abducts you off your poorly lit porch.”

  “Very funny.” I glanced up from my purse with a smile. “But really, it’s late. You could have been home by now.”

  “Gen, I’m glad to walk you to your door. I would have worried about you if I hadn’t.”

  I considered him as we stood there on my porch, the light flickering above us. I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t know how to ask him to stay. Maybe I could ask him in for a drink, though I’d already had enough. But I had those cupcakes…

  Yeah. I could offer him cupcakes. They weren’t chocolate with sprinkles, but yellow cake with milk chocolate frosting had to be a close second. Hadn’t he said a cupcake will fix everything?

  “I’m really glad we went out tonight.”

  His voice made me jump and I dropped the keys. We both bent to pick them up at the same time and bumped foreheads.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “It’s okay, I’m fine.” I clasped my forehead and laughed. Probably, I sounded hysterical. Like a rabid hyena. I couldn’t even look him in the eye when I took the keys from him. “Thanks for inviting me. I had a lot of fun tonight.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  I put the key into the lock, taking my time turning it as I struggled with what to do about him. It didn’t take me long to unlock the door, so I took my time sliding the patio door open. But, that didn’t take long, either, and I hesitated in the doorway, still unsure. I opened my mouth to ask him in, but nothing came out. So I stepped backward through the doorway, not taking my eyes off of his. After a moment, he followed me inside, part of his face lost in the shadows.

  Time stood still. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, and I lifted up onto my toes as he lowered his head to meet me halfway. The smell of his cologne surrounded me and my eyes drifted shut. He grasped me loosely around my back, pulling me close, sending shivers through my body. His breath caressed my skin, his lips just a whisper away from mine, and my lips parted.

  HONK, HONK!!!

  My eyes snapped open and I jumped from Matt’s embrace. He raked a hand through his dark hair, pressing his lips together while I trembled with what I’d been about to do.

  I couldn’t let it go, pretend the moment had come and gone—I was running on the most intense high and it was all because of Matt, this darkly handsome guy who made me feel alive and sexy. I’d never been so turned on in my life. The heat between my thighs threatened to ignite while I imagined his hands all over my body.

  “Oh, what the hell,” I said and threw myself into his arms and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. We were both breathless as his lips devoured mine, kissing me with a passion I hadn’t expected. The satin caress of his tongue against mine, the taste of him, made my knees weak. The thrill coursing through my body was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Maybe it was because I’d only just met him and suddenly I was in this romantic, forbidden lip lock. Maybe it was because the man knew how to kiss, really kiss. It didn�
�t matter. What I wanted to do was wrap my legs around his waist and press myself against him, feel him inside of me. My body trembled with excitement and need, and the idea of living in the moment didn’t feel wrong anymore.

  I wasn’t sure how long we embraced, kissing with reckless abandon in my kitchen, but the cab honked again and I slowly detached myself from his embrace.

  “I should go,” he said, his voice gruff. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks, as if waiting for me to say something.

  I can still ask him to stay.

  But I didn’t.

  “I’ll, um, see you then.” I swallowed back the frustration at myself. I’m officially a chicken-shit.

  He gazed at me through the dark, nothing but silence between us. I feared, irrationally, he could hear the pounding of my heart. I wished I could tell what he was thinking. He seemed about to say something, but I thought perhaps it was my imagination. Maybe I just wanted him to struggle over whether or not he should leave. If he asked to stay, I wouldn’t have to. I wouldn’t sound desperate or slutty; I would just be a woman considering a man’s question. And I’d accept, of course.

  Finally, he said, “Good night, Gen.”

  He swept a lock of hair off my check, and my skin tingled from his touch. He flashed one last lopsided smile, one more glimpse of dimples, and then he was gone. I stood there for a few minutes longer, my fingers touched to my lips as I stared blindly into a starless, black night.

  Chapter Five

  By day, I was a Claims Data Entry Specialist for Bradshaw Insurance, though there wasn’t anything nothing special or interesting about the job. My days were pretty monotonous, but I didn’t mind. It really wasn’t brain-bashing to enter medical claims into a database two hundred fifty times a day—two hundred and ninety-one times if I wanted to meet my departmental goals, which I hardly ever did. The flexible schedule and the fact I got to listen to audio books while keyboarding really gave me nothing to complain about. It suited me for now.

  My U-shaped cubicle was decorated with photographs of my family and of me with Lexie and Roxanna throughout the years, and tacked amongst all the photographs were sketches and colored pencil drawings I’d done over my breaks. Splashes of color everywhere, some merely silly doodles, while others were more disciplined, like the colored pencil drawing of the vase full of flowers that had sat on my supervisor’s desk for two weeks before they’d wilted and been thrown into the trash. Surrounding myself with images was a great distraction when my eyes swam from looking too long at the computer monitor.

  My cubicle was as cozy as a gray corporate cubicle could be.

  The morning after my almost one-night-stand with Matt, I trudged down my team’s aisle in the data entry department, a large latte in hand, exhausted. I would’ve called in sick, but I had to save my vacation time for a trip to Colorado with Lexie and Roxanna. We’d been planning the trip for months now.

  I sat down at my desk, logged onto the computer, and checked my email. There were three new messages in my inbox.

  The one from Richard, I promptly shit-canned without reading. The one from my supervisor I opened. Based on my last week’s evaluation, I needed to increase my claim output in order to meet goal. Doable, if I cut out the internet surfing. I scribbled “291” on a pink sticky note and stuck it to the top right-hand corner of my monitor.

  I continued on to the third email; it was from Roxanna: Did you tell Richard you weren’t interested in making babies?

  Scrunching my nose up, I tapped the keys quickly: You are not going to believe this. He dumped me INSIDE OF MARIO’S ITALY. And then he TOOK OFF!

  A second later, Roxanna’s golden tan face appeared over the gray partition separating our side-by-side cubicles, her amber eyes wide. I nodded once. Roxanna disappeared from view.

  Roxanna wrote back: Oh my God. You were dumped by a man-child who lives in his parents’ basement.

  I stuck my tongue out at the computer screen. After a pause, I wrote back: It’s okay, though. I’ll tell you about the rest of the night on our lunch break. Something interesting happened.

  Roxanna responded: Interesting? Hmm.

  I puckered my lips. Hmm meant she didn’t believe me. I hadn’t exactly been a ball of excitement lately, almost to the point of being predictable. I couldn’t wait to tell her the real story. Hopefully, it’d be enough to send her into shocked silence—a first. I looked at the clock display in the corner of the computer screen. It would be a long four hours until lunch before I could spill the story.

  Flipping on my MP3 player, my thoughts were with Matt; his kiss, his arms around me, the smell of his cologne. I was lost in Incubus, lost in my memories—or maybe they were more like daydreams—when I caught a whiff of pepper and pine.

  I almost gagged. There was only one person I knew who wore that scent of cologne and I wanted nothing to do with him.

  I pretended Richard wasn’t standing behind me. Then he coughed. So I pretended I didn’t hear him—I had my earbuds in, after all. It seemed like a good cover. For all he knew, I was rocking out to Slayer on max volume. Then he cleared his throat.

  Fearful he’d draw unwanted attention, I turned around on a sigh.

  His coy smile was enigmatic. Maybe he’d come by to repay me for his meal. If that was the case, I was interested in what he had to say. The receipt from Mario’s Italy was stuffed somewhere inside my purse. I could even circle his portion with a red pen and highlight in yellow—I was helpful like that.

  “Hey, you,” he said and gave me a wink.

  I nearly fell out of my chair.

  Though I should have been furious he’d had the nerve to come to my desk after what he’d pulled last night, I was mostly just astounded. Shocked to speechlessness. His flirting was unexpected…and awkward. I was embarrassed for the both of us. Covertly, I peeked my head out of my cubicle and down the aisle to see if any of his IT buddies had come along for another show. No one was there.

  I scooted my chair back against my desk, away from prying eyes, though it really didn’t give me much privacy from Tricia, watching from across the aisle. And Roxanna wasn’t missing anything, peeking from the other side of the partition.

  “Yes, Richard,” I finally asked when it was clear he’d been waiting for me to speak.

  He leaned against the partition between mine and Roxanna’s desks, and I quickly warned, “Don’t do that! It’ll fall.”

  He reared back as if he’d been touched by a cattle prod.

  Roxanna’s mouth hung open in mute shock, but I ignored her. I needed to stay focused. I had no clue what Richard was up to, but his presence made me edgy. I had thought—no, I was sure—I had seen the last of him after his dump-n-dash stunt. This guy was a shifty one, for sure.

  “So, I was thinking we should head out on the town for some sushi.” He gave me a short nod, a big smile, and another wink, this time with his other eye.

  It couldn’t be helped—my jaw fell open and I gaped at him. I wasn’t sure what would be more unpleasant, listening to him talk about his videogame helmet while we waited for sushi, or the possibility of him reenacting last night and leaving me with the check. Sushi was expensive.

  The only explanation for this harebrained idea of his was that he’d hit his head on the way in to work. He had amnesia. Yes, that has to be it.

  I finally snapped my mouth shut because the fly swarming around my desk made me just as nervous as Richard’s dinner invitation.

  Tricia was doing a poor job of pretending she wasn’t listening. She caught me staring at her and quickly went back to shuffling through the claims on her desk, as if desperately searching for something in the middle of the stack.

  I gave my full attention to Richard. “Really? So you can leave me with the check again?”

  He paled and straightened up, nervously adjusting his white and blue striped button-up collar shirt. There was a weird-shaped coffee stain by his left breast pocket, shaped a little like a banana. I leaned closer to peer at it unti
l the thought occurred he might misconstrue the attention.

  I jerked my gaze from his chest. Definitely, I didn’t need him thinking I was checking him out, especially since as of last night I planned to deny I had ever associated with him on a social level outside of work.

  Denial would be easier to pull off if he wasn’t popping up at my desk unannounced, as he pleased. Although, maybe his earlier email had warned me about this visit.

  I made a silent vow then and there to skim all future emails from Richard before deleting them.

  “Now Gen, you made me nervous and I just wasn’t thinking clearly. But I’m trying to say I was too rash last night. I really think we have something here and I’m not sure what I was thinking when I dumped you.”

  Dear God, he’d said it out loud.

  “I’ll tell you what we don’t have, Richard, and that’s a future, especially after last night.” I switched on my best commanding voice, the one my older sister used on me when I refused to see her way. “So, as there’s nothing more to discuss, I’ll just…see you around. Okay?”

  I gave him a firm nod then turned back to face my computer, sliding my earbuds back in place. I could feel his presence behind me for a few seconds longer, but I couldn’t turn around and give him hope.

  When he was gone, my inbox chimed and Roxanna’s email read: Did he seriously just ask you out? Or was I dreaming you were in hell?

  Shaking my head, I typed back: It’s weird—he might be bipolar. I’ll have to keep an eye on him.

  Dating was complicated stuff.

  My mind shifted to Matt and last night, to his warmth, and the feel of his mouth on mine. I’d felt rusty up until the moment we kissed. Matt had been exactly what I’d needed to ease back into the dating groove. Really, I could use a few more kisses like that. I still had his business card…