Unable to Resist (43 page)

She slaps my shoulder and gives me a level look. “Not helping, Cowboy.”

“Sorry.” Setting her on her feet, I kiss her cheek. “I’m going to take a quick shower.” Stepping away from Ann, I listen for Liv, who’s yet to say a word. We all know that’s a miracle. “Morning, Liv,” I shout.

A cupboard closes, and Liv curses. “Shit. Duane, you know I love you. Really, I do, but if you and your little woman don’t stop your damn yelling, I’ll chop off a very important organ.”

I wince. Did you hear that? I think my dick just shriveled up into my body. I don’t doubt the woman would do something so damaging.

Ann crosses her arms. “So,” she quips, “a shower?”

I nod my head.

“Think of me while you’re in there, will you?” She teases. Just like that, my dick pulses in my pants, instantly forgetting Liv’s harsh and, quite frankly, scary threats.

“Always,” I respond.

Her eyes cloud and she bites her lip. “And forever.”

I love our little game.

It wasn’t a question, but I say, “That’s right, baby.” Spinning her around to smack her ass, I run up the rest of the stairs before she can playfully scold me—or tease me again.

The sound of Ann’s laughter radiates through the loft behind me, along with a purposed yelling of Liv’s name.

My head is flooded with desire for Ann. Or is it need?

Need. Defiantly need.

The need isn’t just physical anymore, I need to tell her I love her. It’s clear as day. If I don’t say it soon, I’m going to detonate. I want her to know. I need her to know. Soon. Now. Yesterday.

Grabbing my shampoo, I head to the shower thinking of Ann, and devise a plan to make those three little words perfect.

“You whore,” I say as I walk into the kitchen.

Is it legal to strangle your best friend?

Liv puts her hand up, stopping me in my tracks. Grabbing her head and covering her ears, she grimaces.

“Please. For the love of all that is fucking holy, don’t talk so loud,” she begs.

“Touchy,” I grimly add, taking a seat in the living room. “What the hell happened to you last night?”

She doesn’t answer me right away, but I can see her thinking face clear as day. Filling up the coffee pot with water, she hits the grinder button on the machine and lowers her head to the counter in pain.

“Why the hell did we buy this thing?” She points to the coffee grinder. “I hate this,” she slaps it, “little bitch.”

I duck my head to hide my amusement.

She mutters more curses under her breath, causing me to think twice about laughing at her. The woman has somehow managed to acquire a throwing arm, and I wouldn’t put it past her to throw something at me. The kitchen houses way too many deadly objects easily at her disposal.

Curling my legs underneath me, the shower turns on upstairs and a smile slips onto my face knowing that Duane is naked. In
my
bathroom. Thinking of me. I bury my face into my body slightly to avoid confrontation about my obvious happiness.

The grinding stops and Liv clumsily pours the coffee in the maker. The aroma of french vanilla drifts through the air, and Liv hums, seeming soothed by the caffeine already.

“Feeling better, yet?” I ask, not wanting to piss her off too much, but hoping to grind her gears just a bit. Because, you know what? I have every right to.

She sits next to me on the couch and grabs a pillow. Tossing it on my legs, she slowly lowers her body, looking up at me from my lap.

We’ve always had this sort of relationship. She’s more like a sister than a friend. We seek support in each other, even if I did hide my previous life. It’s no surprise she’s hoping to find comfort in me.

She’s slightly damp from sweat, and I feel her head with the back of my hand.

“Shit, Liv. What’s wrong?” I turn her face to look right at me. “You’re burning up.”

She wipes her eyes. “I drank way more than I should have last night.”

“How much?” I push.

She sifts again, curling into a ball. “I’d say half way through our second bottle of vodka was more than enough.”

I recoil. Vodka is not my drink. “Holy hell, Liv.”

She sighs and rubs her eyes. “I know, I know, but Aiden and I were having so much fun, I didn’t realize the cocktail girl kept refilling my glass.”

“How’s Aiden?” I ask. Recalling he didn’t answer the phone earlier, I assume he has to be hurting too.

“That’s the thing!” She shouts, immediately regretting it, and covering her head again. “Fuck, that hurt.
The ass
is fine. He was passed out after I left this morning.”

“So you stayed the night, huh?” I ask, my eyes dancing with suggestion.

She covers her smiling mouth. “Yeah. He’s amazing, Ann. A perfect gentleman. He asked me to come home with him and, the dirty slut I am, I figured he wanted to have sex.” She stops, obtaining a goofy grin. “Nope—he made me toast, and we went to bed.”

Liv’s dreamy stare makes my heart skip and I’m genuinely happy for her. “So just sleep, huh?”

Liv looks down and blushes. Blushes! I don’t believe I’m seeing this. She never gets mushy over a man. They always come and go, with none of them staying for too long. Maybe a week, tops. It’s how she has always liked it—her heart was safer that way. At least that’s what she would tell me, but I can see the lifestyle taking its toll on her. She likes to play strong and act tough, but Liv is a softie. She just never met the man to break her shell. Maybe Aiden could be that man.

“We kissed—a lot,” she touches her lips with her fingers, seeming to still feel Aiden, “and we cuddled. It was,” she looks up in my eyes, “it was nice.”

My face lights up and we squeal. “Are you going to see him again?” I ask, playing with the ends of her hair.

She nods her head enthusiastically. “Yeah, this weekend. He’s taking me to that restaurant on Main, the one with the live band that’s opening for Blake Shelton.”

“Oh, Chords!” I remember hearing about that place on the radio a few days ago. It just opened up and has caught a lot of buzz for the performers it pulls in. “That sounds like so much fun,” I add.

“Yeah.” The shower shuts off up stairs, and her eyes travel upward. “How was your night?”

I exhale happily. “Flawless. Unbelievable. Totally amazing. You choose.”

Liv titters. “That’s great, Ann. He seems to really like you. He looks at you,” she stops to think, “like the sun rises and sets in your eyes. I know it’s an overused statement, but it’s true. He’s in deep, you noob. You ready?”

“You really think so?” I ask, timid to talk about the idea.

She pffts. “Without a doubt. It’s not easy to miss.”

“And what do you mean, am I ready? Ready for what?”

“For the future,” she states, simply. “You love him, don’t you?”

My head snaps to the stairs, and I shush her, hoping Duane can’t hear. “Dammit, Liv, keep your voice down.”

She sits up, the color coming back to her face. She looks better and lifts her body from the cushions. Mocking me, she lowers her voice. “Oh shut up, he loves you too.”

My jaw drops. How can she tell so confidently?

“You’ll see.” With that, she heads to the kitchen, fills up her coffee cup and goes up stairs.

Could he really love me?

Yes, you idiot. He’s capable of loving. It’s you who has a hard time letting go of the past. You’re worthy of his love.

I’ve had a hard time accepting any sort of love since Kyle and Dad died. In a way, I always worried maybe my love broke them—that I was cursed. I thought my love hurt people.

Even Liv, in the beginning, had a hard time getting me to open up about anything more serious than what flavor cupcake I wanted displayed that day. Luckily, like the saint she claims to be, she took her time, broke my walls down and forcefully shoved love in my heart. It seemed a little easier to let Mia in after that. She was kind and sweet. Besides, I didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter, and I’m glad for that. They are my family.

Liv and Mia were easy, though, in retrospect. I’d never once opened up for a guy in recent years.

Opening up my heart to a man meant one of two things. One: I could fall in love with him and then lose him because my life just might possibly suck that bad, or two: he’d break me. I never knew which was worse, and I still don’t, actually. Hearing that even Liv sees Duane could possibly love me makes me soar with happiness and, at the same time, want to crawl into a cave and never come out.

I’m scared. Both options are unacceptable in this case.

Duane’s heavy footsteps travel down the stairs, pulling my attention away from my nervousness.

Freshly shaven and clean, he glows. He’s dressed in a suit that makes my body ache for his touch. Pressed, his dark blue sports jacket looks almost black, and his pants fit him almost too well. They were made for a body like Duane’s. The black, button-down shirt underneath makes his features smolder more so than before. I feel the need to keep him trapped in the house so no one else gets the pleasure of looking at him.

“Hey, beautiful, I’m going to head out.” He points to the door. “I have a ton of work today, but tomorrow is Friday,”

I give him a
no shit
look and he smirks.

“Right, you already knew that. Anyway, I want to take you out.”

I get up from the couch, and walk to him. Standing with his bag slung over his shoulder, I grab the strap, dropping it to the ground, and pull him into me. He grunts in surprise. Bringing my mouth to his, he doesn’t waver. His arms circle around me and I claw my way down his back.

Here we are, again, in a state of bliss that only appears when we join together. I tend to forget what it’s like being in his presence, even for the shortest of absences. I forget how perfect—and easy it is to be with him.

Breaking away from the kiss, I attempt to slow my ragged breathing. Duane’s eyes are dark, his special shade of lust, and my body hums.

“Going out sounds amazing. What do you have in mind?” I ask.

Shaking his head, he puts his finger on my lips. “Sorry, fair lady, but that’s classified information. Strictly on a need-to-know basis.”

My face falls. “What?! I need to know,” I complain.

He brings me into his embrace, burying his face into my neck. “No, you don’t.”

I can’t help the effect he has on me. His scent engulfs me and I melt. “Okay, then.” I’m such an easy pushover when it comes to him.

“Be ready by eight, and wear something fun,” he suggests.

Huh?

“Fun? What the heck does that mean, Cowboy?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. You know—be comfortable, but fun. I don’t want to give anything away. Talk to Liv.”

Liv? What the heck would she know about where we’re going? I decide to let it go, and kiss his cheek. “Have a good day, baby.” I coo.

Taking my face in both of his firm hands, he kisses me sweetly, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. “Miss me,” he jokingly demands.

I bite the tip of his thumb and smile. “Always.”

His eyes light up; turning a brilliant shade of green I will never get enough of.

“Forever, Red,” he chimes.

My heart roughly thuds in my chest. It worries me that it might expand so big it’ll burst in to pieces. He hugs me one last time, picks up his bag and heads for the door. I back up a few steps, letting my thighs hit the back of the couch, giving me some space. I really want to keep him here for myself. Stopping at the threshold, he turns around, dragging his hand through his messy hair. He opens his mouth, his eyes struggling, but doesn’t say anything. Opening and shutting his mouth again, he can’t seem to form words.

“You okay?” I ask, taking a step toward him.

Pulling his hand from his hair, it moves to his mouth and his index finger plays with his bottom lip, coyly.

He’s plotting something. It makes me antsy.

“I’m perfect, Red. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

I don’t quite know how to feel, but I wave my hand. “Tomorrow.”

He smiles and slips through the doorway without another glance.