Calling Me Back (11 page)

“Well, he’s done me a huge favor, introducing me to you. I feel like the luckiest man here tonight, sitting next such a beautiful girl.”

I smiled. Isaac had a few cheesy lines, but they very obviously covered up a sweet guy. I’d dated a lot worse.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Isaac asked. I felt Luke’s hand on my thigh, as if he wanted to interrupt.

“I just broke up with my boyfriend a couple of weeks ago,” I replied. “Excuse me,” I said as I turned to Luke.

He was frowning at me as I looked at him. “You split with Richard?” he asked. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because last time I saw you, you told me you and Emma were finished, and my breakup didn’t seem very significant. I forgot.”

“Nothing that happens in your life is insignificant to me.” My stomach tilted at his words. I wished he meant them differently. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. We weren’t right.” I had barely thought about Richard since the last time I’d seen him.

“You ended it?” he asked.

“Yeah. I didn’t see any point in staying together if I knew we weren’t really suited.”

“He wasn’t the one?” His eyes fixed on mine.

I blinked then held his gaze. “No.” It was almost a whisper.

Luke’s brow creased and he looked away. “Do you think I should have ended things with Emma sooner?”

I shrugged. “Only you know that.”

“But you know me better than almost anyone,” he said, and for a moment I wished it weren’t the case. It would be so much easier if he were just my best friend’s brother.

“That may be true, but I don’t know what you want in a woman. I don’t know what holds your attention.” I was playing with fire.

His gaze drifted to my lips and then back to my eyes. I could see words start to run through his head—they had almost left his mouth when our table erupted with applause. The people we were seated with, including Isaac, were hugging each other and clapping their hands together. I glanced back to Luke, who was being slapped on the back by a guy on the table next to ours. They must have won.

Champagne corks started popping and Isaac thrust a drink into my hand. He clinked my glass. “This turned out to be a great evening. Maybe you’re my lucky charm.” he said. “I shouldn’t let you out of my sight.”

I smiled at him. “So, what happens now? People just get drunk? Or should I say drunker?”

“That and some dancing. Tell me you’ll dance with me when the band starts?” he asked.

“I’m not much of a dancer. We’ll see.”

“Sounds like a promise to me,” he replied. “Excuse me for a moment, I’ve just seen someone I need to say hello to.” Isaac left the table.

I felt a hand on my upper arm, and I turned toward Luke. “You seem to have made quite the impression on him,” he said, his gaze sweeping between my eyes and my lips. I didn’t know how to respond. “But don’t dance with him,” he said softly.

It felt heavy between us, as if there were words all around us that we weren’t saying. I needed air. I needed
us
back. I raised my eyebrows. “You don’t want me to dance? Afraid I’ll embarrass you?” I asked, playfully elbowing him in the waist, trying to dispel the tension between us, surrounding us, encircling us.

The band started up with a slow, soulful song that seemed slightly at odds with the party atmosphere in the room.

“No, it’s not that. I just . . . I just don’t want you to. If you’re going to dance with anyone, it should be me.”

I tried to keep my smile even. “What do you mean ‘should’?”

“I don’t know.” He held out his hand, and I took it tentatively. “Come on,” he said as he led me across the room to the dance floor.

I’d never danced with Luke. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slow danced with a guy. High school, probably. I wasn’t sure I could remember how. Thankfully, the dance floor quickly became busy, and Luke guided us through the couples to the far end, away from the tables.

“So, how do we do this?” he asked as we stood facing each other.

I laughed, relaxing at the fact that his thoughts were so similar to my own. “I really have no idea. We can go and sit back down if you like.”

He bent to hear me, and his hands circled my waist. Sparks went off across my body. I reached up, pushing my palms up his chest to his shoulders.

“No,” he said. “I want to dance with you.”

He watched my face for reaction but I looked away. I couldn’t let him see that I wanted to dance with him too. His hands slid up my back and he pressed me against him. My heart was racing; I wasn’t used to this amount of physical contact with him. My whole body was touching his as we swayed in time to the music.

Luke bent his head to my ear so our cheeks were touching. “Are we doing this right?” he asked.

I didn’t know how to respond.

“It feels right,” he said.

It felt too good. I shouldn’t have let this situation get so out of hand. I had had far too much to drink and now I was here, in Luke’s arms, tricking myself into thinking what I was feeling was mutual. I should stop, push him away. I should go home. At the end of this dance, that’s what I would do. I had spent the last few months trying to close off my heart to Luke, and doing a pretty good job, and now here he was opening up old wounds.

“You look beautiful tonight. I mean, bombshell beautiful,” he whispered.

I should make him stop saying these things. He was feeding my addiction to him.

“What are you thinking?” he asked when I didn’t respond. His hands roamed down to my waist then slid up my back again.

“I think I like dancing with you more than I should,” I replied. His lips brushed my neck, but in the mayhem of sensations assaulting me, maybe I imagined it.

The song ended, and I started to pull away. “Not yet,” he said. “Can we stay here, like this, for a bit longer? I don’t want to go back.”

Those words had more meaning than he’d intended, didn’t they? What did he mean
like this
? Like Ash and Luke—lifelong friends—but closer, touching, on the brink of something?

Luke

She felt so good.
This
felt so good, so right. Did she feel it too? I didn’t want to be here anymore. I wanted it to be just Ash and me. I didn’t want to talk to all these people who were part of my working life. Ash was my real life.

The music changed to something more up-tempo. She pulled back again, and this time I let her. “Wanna get out of here?” I asked.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and celebrate your win?”

“Have you still got that tequila you brought back from Mexico at your place?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Let’s go and have a celebratory shot.”

She grinned, and we headed out, my hand at the small of her back. I didn’t want to lose contact with her, not for a second. We didn’t stop to say we were leaving; we just headed to the exit, found a cab. I was nervous. I’d been to Ash’s place a million times, but tonight was different. Tonight, she wasn’t just Ash my best friend, she was Ash the bombshell. Ash who I had slow danced with. Ash who I’d almost kissed. Ash who I
wanted
to kiss.

“So, thanks for inviting me tonight,” she said, almost as if she was trying to find something to say.

“I’m really pleased you came,” I said. I meant it.

“I’ll be your fill-in date anytime.” She grinned at me. She was so beautiful. The light collected around her, making her glow.

I took a beat just to savor that incredible smile. “You’ll never be that, Ash.” Her eyes narrowed, just slightly. If I hadn’t known her, I wouldn’t have noticed. “You’re no-one’s understudy.”

“I just meant—”

“I didn’t invite you tonight because Emma and I’d split—I asked you before that happened. I asked you because there was no one I’d rather spend an evening with.” I meant it.

She didn’t respond, so I searched her face to see if she’d understood. I found a mixture of confusion and apprehension on her face. Was I coming on too strong? Did she not feel this?

The cab pulled up to her building before I got a chance to ask her. I followed her into the night air and into her building. We were silent in the lift. Every atom of my body wanted to pull her toward me, but I resisted. I didn’t want to scare her. I’d hate to spoil our friendship if she didn’t feel the same way. I couldn’t live without her in my life in one way or another—but in that moment I wanted her to be my whole life.

“So, tequila,” she said as she flung her bag on the hall table, kicked off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen. I followed her, pulled out two shot glasses from the cupboard above the refrigerator and then grabbed limes, quickly cutting them into slices. I knew her kitchen almost better than I knew the one I’d shared with Emma. Ash produced the tequila and the salt, and we settled ourselves in the living room, sitting on the rug, our ingredients set out in front of us on the coffee table.

We exchanged glances, as if we knew we were at the starting line. I raised the tequila bottle as a question and she nodded.

“We should do a truth or a dare before every shot,” she announced.

I grinned. Perfect.

“You start,” she said.

I carefully poured out the shots, trying to formulate a question that would open the door without scaring her off. “Did you find Isaac attractive?” I asked. I wanted to know the answer. What was her type? Was it Richard? Isaac?

Me?

She frowned and regarded me carefully. “He’s good looking,” she said as my heart sped up. It wasn’t the answer I’d wanted. “And funny, which is important. I guess a little.” Jealousy gnawed at my gut and I tried to take a deep breath without her noticing.

“Do you have a type?” I asked. My attention was focused on her lithe legs as she shifted to sit cross-legged in front of me.

“Hey, you can’t have two questions in a row. Do your shot.”

I grinned, licked the back of my hand, poured on the salt and did my shot. I felt Ash’s gaze on me. What was she thinking? I closed my eyes as the tequila burned a trail down my throat. What was she going to ask me?

I watched as she refilled my glass. “Your turn,” I said.

She ran her index finger across her bottom lip as she considered her question. Blood sped to my cock at the thought of her mouth on me.

“What do you want me to ask you?”

I held her gaze. She was clever. She’d asked me a question without asking me a question. She was holding back, and I understood that. This was new, shaky territory that we were in. The corners of my mouth twitched.

“Ask me something . . . intimate.”

Did her breath catch?

She searched for the salt, and I picked it up as she reached for it. Instead of giving it to her, I took her hand, turning it to expose her palm. I leaned forward and licked a line across her wrist. She tasted as sweet as she smelled, and I had to hold myself back from pinning her to the floor and devouring her whole. Her eyes were fixed to mine and her mouth was parted. I poured salt across the wet mark I’d made, but didn’t let go of her hand.

Slowly she bent her head, her tongue echoing the path I’d just made, and reluctantly I let go of her hand. She threw back her shot.

Keeping her eyes on mine, she licked her fingers free of lime juice.

“Your turn,” she said, shifting forward, her dress revealing the curve of her breast. I had to suppress a moan. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When you put on that dress tonight, did you want me to notice you?”

She looked away and whispered, “I always want you to notice me.”

My stomach flipped. She was raising the stakes. Quickly, I did my shot. I wanted to know what was next.

“Why are you here?” she asked, looking directly at me.

It was a good question. The ultimate question. Why was I there? I was there to risk everything. I could fob her off. Tell her we were celebrating, rather than mention how I wanted to spend every last moment of this evening with her. It was as though this urge to be with her had broken free within me and now was overwhelming my every thought, my every action.

“Because I want to kiss you,” I said. It had been true since I’d first seen her in that dress; it just wasn’t the whole truth.