Best Laid Plans

As she reads, I realize bringing her here might be both the greatest and dumbest thing I’ve ever done. As he asks for more and she keeps reading, my heart free-falls with every word. She never stops, never wavers. She does all the voices and reads another chapter, and then just one more chapter, each time he asks.


My heart spins faster in her direction, and I so badly want to tell her everything he’s said about her feels true. I am falling for her, and I absolutely know what I’m falling into.

When he declares he’s tired, we stand to leave, and Arden gives him a peck on the forehead.

“You come back now. I want Emily to meet you.”

He’s lost again. Oh, Pops.

I jump in. “I wish Nana could meet her too. But she can’t, since she’s not here anymore.”

He sighs. “Oh.”

“I love you.” I give him a hug.

As we leave the suite, Arden squeezes my shoulder. “He’s so wonderful.”

“He’s a great man. He came to all my games in high school. Many in college too.”

“What about the majors?”

“He came to most of those as well. That was before . . .” My voice trails off. I collect myself. “He was there for my first save and my last one in the majors.”

“He loves you so.”

“The feeling is completely mutual.” I shoot her an apologetic smile. “Sorry for all that girlfriend stuff.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine. I understand completely.”

A small stone climbs up my chest, burrowing and pushing painfully. She understands because it’s plausible that he messed up the fact.

The stone wedges against my lungs, and it hurts like a lie. I don’t want to throw him under the bus. I don’t want to use his fading memory as a parachute for the fact that I don’t know how to tell her that what I feel for her is so much more than friendship.

But I’m not sure now is the time and place to tell her either. Nor do I want her to think I’m taking advantage of her when she’s come to me for help.

That time will come soon enough though. Today’s the fourth day. And we haven’t tried a fourth-day experiment yet.

I choose a slice of the truth, serving it up like a small piece of pie. “I did tell him about you.”

“You did?” Her voice rises, sounding hopeful.

“I told him what you meant to me. And I might possibly perhaps have mentioned how pretty you are.”

Her smile is majestic. “Thank you.”

That’s all I say. I’m not lying, nor am I blaming him for twisting my words.

When we reach the elevator, I wish I could twist my words into a new truth. I wish she was with me and I could wrap my arms around her, kiss her forehead, and tell her how much more I want to mean to her.

But this will have to do for now. All the sex talk between us has muddied the waters, even though bringing her here today has made my heart clearer.

When the doors open, more clarity arrives.

It’s in the form of her wishes. Her desires. Her secret fantasies.

There’s something she wants, and I can give that to her. I shift gears in another direction entirely, toward her list and perhaps something we can explore today.

The second the doors close, I know we have very little time. Maybe fifteen seconds. I meet her eyes. “What do you know? We’re in an elevator.”

She nibbles on her lower lip. “Yes, we are.”

We’re both in the same moment, talking the same language.

“Time for a lesson? We only have a few more days,” I say.

“Let’s make the most of it.”

I step closer, take her wrists in my hands, and lift them above her head in one fast move. I push her against the wall. She lets out the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, a sensual cross between a gasp and a murmur.

“Ohhhh.” She juts out her hips, a beautiful fucking invitation. I move closer, reading her every step of the way. Her eyes, shining with desire. Her lips, parted. Her chin, raised.

She nods, giving me permission to raise her arms higher, press harder. I align my body with hers as the car whisks down.

Her brown eyes are hazy. “I love this,” she whispers.

“You really ought to be kissed into oblivion in an elevator . . . and by someone who knows how.” I lean my body into hers, and a heady whimper falls from her lips. She must know how aroused I am. My hips press against her. She wriggles against me.

My mouth is inches from her delicious lips. We are hovering, poised in a moment when all these lessons could fly out the window and this could turn into a real kiss. A hot kiss. A hungry kiss.

I know she wants it.

Trouble is, I don’t know if she wants it from me—or to learn how it feels.

But I don’t know that I’m going to find the answer right now, so instead of searching for it, I take another liberty. Letting go of her wrists, I unclip her hair. The lush blonde strands fall through my fingers as I press a kiss to her neck. She moans.

She moans my goddamn name.

“Gabe.”

I nearly die of an overdose of desire. I nip her neck, and she murmurs. Everything between us could change in an instant. She could turn her face to me. I could bring mine closer to her. Our lips could brush together.

I bite her neck, and she’s groaning now, practically melting against my body.

Everything could change if I moved my lips.

One kiss and we’d no longer be playing games.

The moment expands into choices, a cascade of options that all entice me.

But those choices end when the car stops. The elevator doors open on the first floor. We separate, and I see Darla.





28





Arden





The redheaded nurse is fresh-faced, with glowing skin and clear blue eyes. But she gives us a clinical once-over, and it’s as if I’ve been caught stealing meds from the pharmacy closet.

The way she stares is knowing, as if she’s adding up the clues.

My hair is down, a little wild.

Yet my hair wasn’t down when I ran into her in the fifth-floor ladies’ room when I first arrived.

Does she know I was about to be kissed senseless in the elevator seconds ago? Does she know I was ready to wave the white flag of surrender and give in to all these wild feelings I have for my friend? She can’t know that, of course. She doesn’t know me.

But she knows him.

Her eyes flick to the man next to me, and she says his name in a businesslike manner. “Hi, Gabe.”