The Boyfriend List (14 page)

Clutching the damp
material to her chest, she crept toward the door and began to turn the knob.

Ian’s intentions had been
just as innocent, but just as perilous in their delivery.

After hearing that the
water had been turned off, he scurried to shove the checklists back into
Reagan’s bag and went racing down the hall. He’d simply wanted to make sure she
had everything she needed. A tap at the door, a question through the wood, then
he’d leave her be. Ten seconds, tops. No harm done.

Had he not chosen that
exact moment, no harm
would
have been
done. Had the door not swung open just as he approached, his intentions still
would’ve been safe. But as it was, a half-dressed Reagan not only came rushing
out into the hallway through a cloud of evaporating steam, but collided right
into him, thanks of his excellent timing. And so, a little harm was done,
though Ian was too stunned and speechless to figure out the exact ramifications
right away.

Reagan was in no better
condition. Complete embarrassment, not to mention the shock of seeing someone
on the other side of the door, had forced a squeal of surprise from her lips.
She nearly lost her grip on the towel when her body crashed fully into his, but
managed to recover it just before her modesty was lost.
           

With neither of them
thinking clearly, and both in a state of complete mortification, they were
frozen together, bodies tight against one another...until Ian realized he’d
instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tight in an effort
to steady their stance before they both went tumbling toward the ground. They
seemed to come to the realization together, and while Ian’s face flushed red
with embarrassment, his body appeared incapable of moving.

Reagan, however, needed
space and quickly. Her body temperature was steadily rising and it was getting
difficult to breathe again. She took it upon herself to free them of his grip,
and quickly backed up into the hallway until her back pressed up against the
cool wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” While she knew deep down
he hadn’t meant it in any disrespectful way, she also couldn’t help but to
speak with the ferocity of an embarrassed female. It just slipped out, before
she could pull it back in. “That’s what you call your
best behavior
?”

“Can you go back in the
bathroom please?” Ian wasn’t asking – he was begging. And doing so with
the utmost patience he could gather at the moment. Turning his back to her, he
still covered his eyes, just for added precaution.

“Answer my question.” She
insisted.

“It was an accident. Will
you just go back in the bathroom now?”

“Stop giving me orders.”

Though he turned around
to face her, he still shielded his eyes. “It’s my house.” He reminded her.

“And?”

“You’re not going back
into the bathroom are you?” It was less of a question and more of a resolution.
He was going to have to find another way to deal with this,
and
his visions of her. If only he knew
how to do that...“Damn it Reagan. What the hell are you doing coming out of the
bathroom half naked anyway?”

“Naked?” She practically
gasped at the accusation. “Hardly. This towel isn’t transparent you know. And
besides, I’m
way
less covered in a
bathing suit, and
that’s
never
bothered you before.”

He finally lowered his
hand to look directly at her, found the visual of her ample cleavage popping
over the top of the towel wasn’t helping, and recovered his eyes. Though truth
be told, that did nothing to rid his mind of all the ways he’d envisioned her
already in those brief few minutes. “I’m a
guy
.
I have an imagination and seeing you at the pool in a bathing suit is
completely
different than seeing you
come out of my bathroom wrapped in a towel.”

The faintest hint of a
smile worked its way into the corner of Reagan’s lips. It was
almost
a compliment, she considered. “I
forgot to grab a shirt before I went in.” When she finally replied, her voice
was considerably calmer. Funny how that worked.

“Yeah.” His breath blew
out fast with the word. “Yeah, I can see that.”

The physical effect she
had on him was only just now starting to occur to her, and she couldn’t help
but to enjoy it a little more than she probably should’ve. For the first time,
she was beginning to realize that not only did Ian feel just as awkward as she
did standing in the hallway like that, but he might even be just as attracted
to her as she’d recently discovered she was to him. They were both trying to protect
their friendship with each other, but what would happen if they just gave in
and let go?

Armed with this new
knowledge, her voice dipped low and heavy, and her lashes batted a few extra
times as she spoke. “Should I just keep standing here now? All naked and wet
like this. Or should I go in and get something to put on?.”

Ian bit back a groan. “Yeah.”
His eyes were still pressed tightly shut behind his fingers.

 
“Yeah to which one?” It was tempting to
play with him, just a little. She suddenly felt powerful, more in control than
she ever had. But he was trying so hard to be decent about the situation that
she managed to refrain.

He didn’t respond
directly, but set his jaw in determination as he spun himself around and
stalked toward the bedroom. “I’ll get a shirt for you.” He muttered beneath his
breath. After slamming the closet door open, he ripped a black shirt from the
vast selection and watched as the plastic hanger tumbled to the floor. Not
caring enough to pick it up, he mumbled some curse in its general direction
before striding toward the doorway again and tossing the shirt out at Reagan.
Then he pointed to the bathroom. “Let me know when you’ve got
all
your clothes on.” He stated before
shutting the bedroom door again.

Reagan didn’t bother
going back into the bathroom. She dropped the towel right there in the hallway,
and quickly pulled the soft shirt over her head. Then after draping the wet
towel over the bathroom door, she pushed her way into his bedroom, a sly grin adorning
her face. “Better?”

He’d been pacing back and
forth across the length of his room – a reaction that thoroughly amused
and empowered her. But when she entered, he quickly claimed the edge of his
bed.

“Do I dare look?” His
eyes were fixated firmly on the ground, but Reagan merely rolled hers before
plopping down on the bed beside him. After looking her over, he smiled and
nodded his head. “Much better. Looks good on you.”

But the smile was
lingering, as was his gaze. And as his hand slid comfortably next to hers,
Reagan’s heart skipped a beat or two when she felt his fingers begin to
intertwine with hers. Unable to remove their eyes from each other, Ian leaned
slightly in, just enough that Reagan couldn’t deny the gesture and wondered
what was behind it. Was he about to say something? Maybe try to kiss her?
Whatever it’d been – an awareness, a regret perhaps - he seemed to reconsider
it, and stopped himself. Standing to his feet, he offered her a hand, which she
readily took. She was just as ready to put the little mishap behind them as he
apparently was.

Pulling her up, again his
eyes lingered over her face, falling longingly to her mouth.

“Hungry?”

She wasn’t sure what version
of hungry he meant, but she realized her answer would’ve been honest either
way. “Always.” She breathed the word, a little dazed from the intensity of his
stare, a little confused by her own reaction.

 
“Come on. I’ll make you something.” And
with that he released his grip and broke his gaze, walking out into the hallway
toward the kitchen. As they entered the room, his phone began to ring.

“Cara! Hey Gorgeous.
How’ve you been?”

Gorgeous, huh?
His voice sounded awfully cheerful as he greeted the caller,
so naturally Reagan’s ears perked up and her eyes narrowed as she tried to
listen in to the conversation without seeming
too
intrigued. But all she could hear was the muffled sounds of a
young, candy-coated voice. From Ian’s side of the conversation, however, it
seemed as though this Cara wanted to get together with Ian. Her Ian. Feeling
suddenly very territorial, though she knew she didn’t have the right to be, Reagan
silently demanded to know who, where, when and why - the details of which were
sketchy thanks to Ian’s sudden burst of laughter.

“You’re kidding! That’s great.
Yeah, yeah, of course we’ll get together. Saturday?” He paused as if flipping
through his itinerary in his mind. “No, Saturday I have plans.”

Reagan smirked, and felt
evil doing so, but she didn’t care. Whoever this girl was to him, Reagan was
more important, and she’d just won a slight personal victory.

“I might be able to get
out of them though.”

So much for that theory,
she thought to herself as she felt her smile fading
into a defeated frown. Reagan’s stomach twisted into a giant knot as an all too
familiar feeling opened up inside of her, one she didn’t want to experience
again. She’d let her heart get too attached, without any encouragement from the
other party, and she was about to feel the sting of disappointment as once
again someone she cared so dearly for was about to choose someone else over
her.

“I’ll pick you up early,
say six? Yeah? Perfect. See you then.”

As Ian ended the
conversation, Reagan could feel the poison of resentment flooding her veins.
He’d proven her right. He was a pathological flirt who enjoyed having multiple
women in his life. Anger quickly followed, and though the rational Reagan knew
she had no right to be mad, that she had no claim over his time, she wasn’t
exactly in a rational frame of mind at the moment. Hell, she hadn’t been in a
rational frame of mind all week! Just who did Ian think he was, making plans
with someone else,
another girl
, while
she was standing right there? And he had the audacity to contemplate bailing on
Petra’s party, no less, without even talking to her first. The man had some
nerve. And to think she’d actually started to believe she was…No, she couldn’t
even say it now. The whole idea seemed far too ridiculous.

Luckily a text from Petra
saved her, and she quickly gathered up her bag and headed to the door without
even bothering to say goodbye.

The gesture didn’t go
without notice. Ian, looking a little like a lost puppy, quickly called after
her. “You leaving?”

 
“Yeah.” Reagan’s voice was evidence of
her disappointment. With everything. “Petra just got home.”

“Oh.” He seemed to accept
the answer, but could tell something was off. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled. “Fine.”

“Okay. Well, call me if
anything new happens.”

“New?”

“With your checklist
thing.”

“Oh. Right.” She paused
to think. Truth be told, in the moments since she’d been there with him she’d
forgotten all about Brett and the checklists. “You got it.”

As she began to descend
the stairs, Ian approached the door and stood on the threshold. “Hey Reagan.”

She said nothing, but
looked up at him questioningly. She could tell he wasn’t ready to let her go,
yet she wondered if there was anything he could say that would make her want to
change her mind.

“The girl on the phone.
Cara.”

“What about her?” A
little of the resentment managed to work itself through the fog in her head,
and then out through her voice. She didn’t care to catch it, she was tired of
playing games.

“That was my kid cousin.
She’s thirteen and just got accepted as an apprentice with the San Francisco
Ballet.”

“Really?” Was it getting
hotter out here? No, that would be her skin flushing warm from embarrassment,
she decided.

“Great girl. She’s been
working really hard, and the family’s taking her out to celebrate. She asked me
to pick her up at the studio since they’re moving and I won’t see her for a
while.”

 
“Wow. That’s really wonderful for her.”
There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe her overwhelming
mortification. Had she really imagined the girl on the other end was her
competition for Ian’s attention? And that, she realized, was the entire
problem. She hadn’t been thinking at all. The idea seemed absolutely ludicrous
now. “You must be proud.” The smile that emerged was awkward at best.

“Yeah.” He was beaming,
and Reagan suspected he’d gotten exactly the reaction from her that he’d been
looking for. “Well, I’ll see you later.”

“Right. See ya later.”
She replied, suddenly more embarrassed than she knew what to do about. Unable
to move just yet, still processing what had just happened in her head, she
watched Ian turn as though to go back inside. But then it looked like another
idea occurred to him, and he came bouncing back out again.

“Hey.” Though she’d
already made her way down to the next floor of the building, he ran down the
stairs to meet her. “Hold on. I need to tell you one more thing.”