Chapter Six
Bacon sizzled in the pan, popping grease onto my forearm and burning. “Crap.” I brushed the oil off me and turned another piece before I gave it the chance to do it again. The clock on the wall said it was ten in the morning, but the time in my stomach said “feed me or die.” I was a hungry hangover kind of person. Nothing two Tylenol and a glass of water wouldn’t help when they took effect. I just wished I wasn’t begging God for them to take effect already. Damn, my head hurt.
I snagged two plates out of the cabinet and loaded them with the finished bacon before I fried up the eggs. The rhythmic scrape, scrape, scrape told me Josh had finished snow blowing the driveway and was now shoveling out the walk. Of course, when I’d woken up alone, I figured the guy had made the mad dash out of here because I’d attempted to jump him last night.
Last night. That was what everyone raved about when they whispered about sex. Now I got it. I’d always wanted to have sex. I wasn’t a prude, but Riley had assured me we’d have plenty once we were married. Why not save it for then? Keep the first years of our marriage hot, perfect? Looking back, kissing Riley was fun, he was good at it, but kissing Josh was like a freaking fire caught me and scorched until I burst into flames. There was really no comparison.
Shit. I was burning the eggs. I slid them onto the plates just as the toast popped up. A little butter and we were ready to rock. Right on cue, Josh opened the front door and quickly shut it once he was inside.
I avoided his gaze as he slid off his boots on the entry rug and hung his coat on the peg. I pulled the sugar and powdered creamer out of the cabinet as the coffee finished brewing. Hey, I’d been lucky we’d had eggs here since Mom had been up with Gus and April a couple weeks ago. “Coffee?” I asked without looking at him, stretching on tiptoes and still unable to reach the cups.
“Perfect, thanks,” he responded, sliding behind me to take the cups down. I leaned away from him and carried our plates to the table, juggling silverware under them. I’d never really had a “morning after,” but I assumed that was what this icky, awkward feeling was. What was he thinking? Was he angry about last night? Had he wanted more? Had he wanted less?
I kept my head down as I walked past him, concentrating on the pattern of the hardwood floor until I got to where Josh had already poured the coffee. Sugar, yes. Cream, more. I preferred a little bit of coffee with my cream and sugar.
“Ember.” He was right behind me. The spoon clanged against the counter as I accidentally dropped it. Big breath. “Turn around,” he ordered softly.
I had done big girl things last night, and now I had to be a big girl today. I turned, keeping my eyes locked on the way his hoodie settled around his really nice hips. He stepped forward, fitting us together, and my traitorous lower half melted right into him.
He gently lifted my face to meet his eyes, just like he had last night. I was lost. The sun streamed through the window, bringing out the golden flakes in his eyes, a stark contrast to the jet black of his skull cap. “Good morning,” he whispered.
I gave a nervous smile that I’m pretty sure came out more like I was baring my teeth. “Hi.”
He searched my eyes for long, tense moments, looking for answers I didn’t know how to give. “Yeah,” he whispered, like he was answering his own question.
He took possession of my mouth in a scorching kiss, cradling my head in his hands and moving his tongue to the same rhythm he’d used with his fingers inside me last night. I went limp in two seconds, flat. He pulled back with a grin, then kissed me softly. Once. Twice. “This is not awkward unless you let it be.” His raised eyebrows and smile nearly did me in. “I’m not going to let it be awkward. I want you too much for that.”
My eyes darted away. The day after finding my boyfriend, shit, ex-boyfriend sleeping with my roommate was not the time to jump into something new. “Josh—”
“No, no excuses. I want you, and you’re not ready for me. You’re not ready for anything.” He tucked back a strand of hair that had escaped my messy bun.
I shook my head, breaking his grip. “Last night, I don’t know what happened. I just needed . . . I needed . . .”
“To feel alive.”
My gaze jerked back to his. He nailed it right on the head. “Yes, and I guess . . . I used you.” Guilt swamped me as the truth of my words cut through what had been the fog of my thoughts.
He laughed. “Come on. You don’t think I knew that?”
“N-n-no.” This was not how I’d seen this weekend going.
He leaned back against the opposite counter, and I immediately missed his warmth. “You needed to feel alive. Your dad died, and I get that. It’s a pretty common reaction, really.” His hands rubbed over his face like he was waking himself up. “And after what happened with Riley last night, I wasn’t surprised that you needed to feel desired, too.”
“So you let me just . . .” My eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because you needed me to. You’re so busy taking care of everyone else, you can’t see that someone needs to take care of you. So tell me what you need, and I’ll be that for you.”
Speechless. Somehow the resident bad boy had turned into this . . . man, and the guy I’d lusted for all freshman year was offering himself to me. I reached for a little snark, something to save me from the brutal honesty he was dishing out, but there was nothing I could find. “I don’t even know what I need.”
“That’s okay with me. The minute you realize that it’s okay with you, too, you can start digging out of what’s been thrown at you. There’s no pressure.”
A few weeks ago I’d never have pegged Josh Walker as someone to take care of me. That job belonged to Dad, to Riley. I ducked my head and concentrated on my breakfast. The silence was easy, but charged with what was unsaid. It was a combination I wasn’t used to.
“Vanderbilt, huh?” He nodded to the letters plastered across my chest on my favorite, worn-out hoodie.
“Yeah.” I pushed the stretched-out sleeves up over my forearms.
“There’s a picture in the hallway with you in a Vanderbilt shirt, your dad, too.” His tone left answering up to me. I knew he was curious, but not intrusive.
“It’s where my dad graduated from, where I always dreamed of going. It was our thing, I guess, since I was born while he was in medical school there. I think my first sleeper was from Vanderbilt.” I looked up from my plate and caught his eyes. It was still surreal that Josh Walker was in my cabin, eating breakfast with me. More surreal that he’d kissed me. Touched me.
“Why didn’t you go?”
I swallowed back the twinge of bitterness that always accompanied this question, especially when my father had asked me. “Riley got into CU early admission, and that’s where he wanted to go.”
“Did you get into Vanderbilt?” He leaned slightly toward me over his empty plate.
I moved my eyes back to my disappearing eggs. “I didn’t bother applying. Riley didn’t think a long-distance relationship would work.”
“Did you?”
I shrugged. “Apparently a same-school relationship couldn’t work.”
“Do you think long-distance relationships work?”
I grabbed my empty plate and stood. “Why the twenty questions, Josh?”
He looked up at me through his lashes, and I almost forgot what I asked. “Just trying to understand you. Do you think those relationships work?”
“I think people who love each other, like genuine love, can make it, sure.” I headed for the kitchen and swore I heard him sigh. “But after seeing what my mom went through time and time again, I know it’s not what I would ever choose.”
He snuck up behind me and gently stole the plate from my hand. “I get that. I can’t imagine always waiting.”
I watched him methodically wash the dishes, and I took them to dry, putting them back in the cabinet for the next time we’d make it up here. “It’s not the waiting that gets me, not anymore. It’s the not knowing if he would come home. I won’t live like that. I can’t put everything in my life on hold, not like she did. Everything she did was about my father, and now what does she have? She’s a train wreck.” I turned around and found him leaned back against the counter. We were nearly in the same position we had been when he’d kissed me last night. I closed my eyes briefly, failing to rid myself of the images. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on and on.”
He stepped forward, eliminating the space between us. “I told you. You don’t need to apologize. If you need to talk, I’ll listen.”
He caged me in his arms, making escape, if I had wanted one, impossible. I leaned back enough to tilt my head and see him. “You don’t owe me anything.” Blood rushed to my cheeks. “I’m so sorry about last—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Josh said, his voice was flat, final. “Never apologize to me for something I wanted so badly I could practically taste you before we even left your house.” He raised his hand, the back of his fingers grazing down my cheek, leaving chills in their wake. His gaze dropped to my lips and that smile was back on his face, sending “go” signals straight to my thighs. “Oh, and December?” His lips brushed against mine, and every fiber of my being reacted. “Feel free to use me again any time.”