Twist (Dive Bar #2)

“Not nearly enough. Quick, let’s get to my hotel room so I can have more!” I threw open my door.

“Okay.” Hands stuffed in his pockets, he followed me inside, lingering a step or two behind. Guess he didn’t like it when people’s moods got all mixed up and mercurial either. Funny, that.

I nodded to the dude at the front desk and pressed the button on the elevator. It opened immediately. Mirrors and old-timey-looking wooden framing decorated the small space. We both leaned against the back wall as it slowly ascended.

“Yeah, sure can’t wait to do some banging, and pounding, and screwing around with you, Joe.” I smiled. “Sound good?”

He just gave me a dry look from his superior height. All confusion gone from his handsome face. Confined spaces only made him seem bigger, even more imposing than usual. No way, no day, however, was I crawling back into my shell or turning into a shadow. We’d agreed to work on our issues, so fine, I was putting it out there.

Still, my bravado was fading, I could barely meet his eyes. The man affected me in all the ways.

“It’s hard, no pun intended this time, because sometimes it feels like you want to be just friends,” I said. “But then other times you flirt with me and I honestly don’t know what’s going on. No huge surprise there, I know. Social awkwardness is my jam. But I thought I mostly understood where you were coming from.”

A ding from the elevator and the doors opened at our stop. I walked out, his bearded hotness following slowly behind, stalking me almost. For certain his usual cool, easy-going-guy persona was missing in action. The man radiated tension, intensity, even.

And if he didn’t, I definitely did.

Inside the hotel room I went for mood lighting, only turning on the table and bedside lamps. I rubbed sweaty hands against the sides of my pants. “What you said back at the bar about me getting rough with you, however. Now, that almost sounded like a dare.”

“Did it?”

“It did.”

Arms hanging loose at his sides, he just watched me, saying nothing. Jerk.

“So tell me.” I stood at the foot of the bed, facing him. Every part of me was wired, wide awake. “What’s going on, Joe?”

His shoulders rose and fell on a deep breath. “I realized something tonight.”

“What?”

“That I was falling into old habits. Doing what was easy instead of doing what I wanted.”

“Huh?”

“It was just before you spilled ice on that guy’s pants.”

“Sure. I can see how you’d be seduced by my smooth moves,” I said, voice filled with much doubt. My insides were ready to spontaneously combust. I swear I could feel sweat breaking out all over me, the man was just that hot. Also, my nerves were on high alert.

One corner of his lips tipped up. “You know how you said you weren’t jealous?”

“Yes?”

“Well, I was.”

Wow. I had nothing.

“This is the part where you’re supposed to admit you were jealous too,” he supplied.

“I didn’t think it needed to be said. I’m not that good a liar.”

“True,” he said. “Anyway, I made the pass at you and then I was leaving it up to you to figure out what you want. To be brave and make the next move.”

Softly, I laughed and shook my head. Men were such idiots. “Make the first move? This isn’t a game. As I said last time the subject of sex came up, previous hurt feelings, etc. It’s going to get complicated.”

“Yeah, probably,” he said, voice deeper than I’d ever heard it. Like subterranean or something.

“What if it all goes wrong?”

“Then you go back to your old life in Seattle and forget all about me.”

“I highly doubt that will work.” Given my slightly addled mind, the math might be off, but the chances of me forgetting about Joe Collins anytime soon were not good. Two, three percent maximum. You’d have to allow for an episode of amnesia, alien abduction, or something similar. Sexual encounters with men whose names I didn’t remember, however, wouldn’t replace him. They couldn’t.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

“No.”

My stomach flip-flopped while everything down low got achy and wanting. We’d made it this far, there could be no turning back. He wanted me to make the next move. Fine. Without further ado, I whipped my sweater off over my head, dropping it on the floor. Thank goodness, I’d packed some nice underwear. My heart beat double time inside my chest.

He’d seen me half naked before, but now the atmosphere was decidedly different. His gaze flickered over me, nostrils flaring at the sight of my black lace bra.

Okay, that was a good reaction.

Problem was, he did nothing else. He just stood there, studying me. He hadn’t even taken his damn coat off. Some of his golden hair had escaped its ponytail and hung around his face, lying against his muscular neck. His big solid body seemed locked in place, everything frozen, except for his hands. Strong fingers flexed open and closed, open and closed.

“Joe?”

I moved a solid inch or two toward him. Brave of me, I know. It was impossible to see the look in his eyes. I should have turned on more lights, except something else had me wanting to hide in low lighting. Something involving feelings and other things I’d rather not be thinking about. Ever. Normally, I wasn’t shy in the bedroom. My body had its flaws—the same as anyone else’s. But no way would I allow dimply thighs or a wobbly butt get in the way of enjoying life. Hell no. I had other neuroses for that.

And he still didn’t move.

Maybe this whole risk-taking thing wasn’t such a great idea after all. I’d happily been a hermit for many years. Saying no to things that might take me out of my comfort zone had served me well. Shit. What to do? Run and hide or make one last attempt?

“Joe? Hello?”

He licked his lips but didn’t speak. Maybe he’d changed his mind.

Meanwhile, I seemed to have suddenly developed asthma. It was getting harder and harder to breathe with all of the emotions building up inside my chest. Lust, fear, and my old friend confusion. My ribs could barely hold it all in. Any second now my heart and lungs would burst, give up.

And still he stood there doing nothing.

“I made my move,” I said, nervous as all hell. “It’s your turn.”

He didn’t speak a word, he just grabbed me.





CHAPTER TWELVE

Message received four weeks ago: Hey Alex,

How did your date go? I hope it was horrible and he had bad breath, sweaty hands, and only talked about boring ass botanical facts all night. No. Wait. I mean, hope you had a nice time. Right. That’s what I meant to say. So?