I laugh nervously, “Yeah, I guess the name is a little dumb, it was my dad’s call name in the Air Force and after he died—”
Her sharp inhale of breath stops me speaking.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your father died? When?” Her expression is stricken. I’ve forgotten that she’d known my dad. Only a little, because I’d gone over to her house more than she’d ever come to mine.
“It’s been nearly seven months, he was an adrenaline junkie to the very end and died doing what he loved,” I smile at the memory of the last time I saw him. He was so fucking happy. “He was flying, hit a really bad thunderstorm and it blew his plane apart. Even for an accomplished Naval test pilot, there was nothing he could do.” I shrug and take another sip of my drink. I miss my dad, he was the only person I told about what I did to Maria all of those years ago. And he always encouraged me to find the balls to apologize.
“I’m sorry,Cole,” she says softly. She used my real name. She doesn’t catch her slip up and I don’t let it register on my face that I did. I loved hearing it on her lips again.
“Thanks. What about you? Your folks alive?” I ask.
“Yeah, they’ve moved to Guatemala. Bought a place down there and only come here twice a year. I miss them, but it’s fun to go and visit.”
“Nice,” I say and then bring us back on topic. “We were talking about regrets. That was mine. Messing up that friendship. Not apologizing sooner.”
She stares at me in surprise for the briefest of moments before she shakes her head.
“Do you have any?” I ask.
“Nope,” she says glibly and then picks up her margarita and chugs it. I watch as some dribbles out of the corner of her mouth.
“Let’s get out of here,” she says and slams the drink down. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Uh, okay,” I say and lift a finger to call our server. I signal that I’d like our check and take one sip of my drink.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Your place.” She says easily.
I can’t hide my shocked expression. “I thought you were worried I was going to kidnap you and hand you over to some Mexican cartel,” I joke. But I’m not amused. I didn’t expect this. I mean, I’d love to take her home. But I have the distinct feeling that her request to go to my place is more of a “Plan B” than a spur of the moment whim.
Something about what I said was unexpected and threw her off.
“I’m sure you’re not a murderer,” she says as she grabs her purse and stands up in one fluid motion.” She stands in front of me, her stance closer to that of someone who is preparing for battle instead of sex.
“You called me all talk, today. I’m ready for action,” and without another word, she spins on her heel and marches through the restaurant. I watch her walk away, marveling at how gorgeous the view is from the rear. Oh yeah, I can’t wait to have that ass in my hands tonight. I stand up and follow her out.
Three
MARIA
Oh, my God. I rush out of the restaurant, my thoughts jumbled. This isn’t what I expected. In every conversation we’ve had by text, he’d been exactly who I had expected that boy in the stairwell to be. Confident to a fault, unrepentantly sexual, someone who believed his own hype.
Why is he not an asshole anymore?
Why is he even more beautiful now than he was when he was a boy?
Why the fuck did he apologize?
I hand the valet my ticket and just as he’s walking away, Chuck appears at my side, slips a hand around my waist and calls out to him. “Hey, give me that ticket, we’ll come back for the car before you close tonight.”
I jerk my head back in surprise and gawk at him.
“You can’t do that,” I say indignantly.
“You drank that margarita really fast, and there’s no harm in me driving us over,” he reasons. The traitorous valet walks back and hands the ticket to Chuck, as if I’m not the one who gave it to him.
“Excuse me,” I say and he pauses. His nervous gaze darts between Chuck and I, but I don’t feel sorry for him.
“Do you normally ignore the women whose cars you park when their men tell you to?” I demand and fix him with an imperious stare.
“Uh no,” he stammers.
“Good, then, please go get my car,” I say.
“No, don’t go get her car. But, please get mine,” Chuck says to him. The poor young man starts to look distressed. I glare up at Chuck. “Look what you’ve done. Maybe you should try asking instead of demanding next time.”
I look at the valet driver and decide to show him some mercy. It’s not his fault Chuck thinks he’s the master of the universe.
“That’s fine. I’ll come back for my car later.” I say a little embarrassed at conceding, but also deciding that this is one battle I’m prepared to lose if it means that I can get on with my plan.
Chuck squeezes my waist slightly and a shudder runs through me. Then he dips his head and whispers in my ear, “Save that attitude for when we get back to my place, where I can spank your ass for it.”
I erupt into gooseflesh. “As if—” to my horror, my voice comes out in a breathy whisper. I clear my throat before I continue. “As if I’d let you,” I dismiss him. Even though the thought alone is melting my insides.
“Oh, you will. You’ll beg me for it,” he says gently but with a tense edge in his voice that excites me in a way I can’t remember being excited before.
“You wish,” I say feebly and step out of his grasp when I see the valet driving back in a big black Range Rover. Of course, he would drive a flashy car.
I open the passenger door as soon as he stops in front of us and almost laugh at the surprise on his face before he hops out.
“I’m in a hurry, too,” Chuck says when he climbs in behind the steering wheel. When he grips it, I notice how big his hands are, and think about the sting they would make if he were to spank me. I hate how much that turns me on.
I think about what else those hands and fingers could do and I start making some revisions to my plans.
I’m still going to leave him hanging, but what harm would there be in letting myself have a little fun first. Just a little and then, I’ll confront him and leave.
We pull out of the parking lot and onto San Felipe. This is one of Houston’s most congested streets. And tonight is no exception. As we crawl up toward the 610 Loop, a comfortable silence descends and I let my mind wonder.
. Half of me is filled with anticipation. I wonder what it will be like to kiss him. I feel the attraction between us, but it’s at a simmer. He’s bantered in sometimes outrageously sexy ways over text, but he’s been subdued in person. The rest of me is dreading this. How will he respond when I tell him I’ve been playing him all along?
How will I feel when I walk away from him? Will I be able to? Because, I have to admit that being with him is easy. I’ve spent the last twenty years loathing him. Yet, since we started talking weeks ago, that’s diminished some. Because, the thing about him that drew me when were kids is still there. Even more so now that we are adults. He’s funny, and his confidence is actually attractive. I have a strong personality. Most of my relationships have ended because the men I was dating didn’t like that I wanted to take the lead sometimes. Or they liked it too much and left me feeling dissatisfied in bed and in general.
Chuck isn’t intimidated by me. He seems to like my stubborn streak.
“We’re here,” he says and my eyes focus. We’ve pulled up into a covered driveway of the Houstonian Residences. A man in a dark red bellhop’s uniform is hurrying out of the revolving glass doors of the building.
“This is where you live?” I ask gawking. I’ve never been here before. It’s one of the most exclusive and expensive addresses in the entire city of Houston.