Chapter Eight #2
Her heart heavy with self-pity and a bunch of other stuff she didn’t want to think about, Faith tossed the remnants of her drink into a nearby bin and turned to leave.
It was then she saw him watching her from the edge of the crowd.
Breath caught in her throat, she froze. She should ignore him.
Go back to Lawson House, crawl under her covers, and forget about everything.
Their eyes held for a few moments and with a hint of a smile on his handsome face, Gus walked toward Faith.
And, helpless, she could do nothing but wait for him and try not to look as desperate as she suddenly felt.
Her heart swelled in her chest, its beats faster than they should be.
How could it not be beating out of her chest when Gus looked as if he were thinking things he shouldn’t be? Dark things. Wicked things. Crazy things.
He stopped a few inches from her, his tall frame casually dressed in black jeans and an off-white, short-sleeved button-up.
His thick, dark hair was combed back, and the shadows that caressed his face made him look more dangerous than ever.
He sported the perpetual three-day stubble, and it was a look he should take to the grave.
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving already,” he said finally, that slight Boston accent more pronounced.
“I was thinking about it.”
“Not into the band?”
“Not into the crowd I guess.” She attempted a smile. “Did you just get here?”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I hadn’t planned on coming.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
“The house was too quiet.” He paused. “Is Candy looking after Taco?”
“No. I stopped in after work to let him out, but I should head back. He drinks a lot of water when he’s alone and I’m sure he’s crossing all four paws right about now.”
Just then, the band broke into a cover of “Hotel California,” a song full of minor notes — a melancholy feel. Goosebumps broke out across her skin when she glanced up at Gus. Her stomach turned over, and she felt silly, like a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl whose crush just noticed her.
“I like this one.” Gus’s voice was husky.
“I’ve always loved it too,” she admitted.
“Dance with me.” He held out his hand and waited.
“Oh, I don’t . . . I should get back.” Panic bloomed in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
“You don’t dance?” he prodded, a slow smile crept across his face. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I do, but . . .”
“You don’t want to dance with me.”
“No,” she replied quickly. Too quickly. His smile deepened, and her cheeks were on fire.
“Then what?”
Her lips were dry, and she licked them, wondering if he could hear her heart damn near beating out of her chest. It filled her ears. Drowned out the music.
“Dance with me,” he said again. “If you want to.”
Her eyes fell to his hand, still outstretched. Inches from her body. She couldn’t make her mouth work. Couldn’t form the words.
“It’s not complicated. Just a yes or no answer.”
She wanted to dance with him. She wanted more than that if she were being truthful.
“Only a dance, Faith. Nothing more.” His dark eyes smoldered, and something close to desire skittered across her skin. She was hot. Anxious. And a bunch of other emotions that she wasn’t entirely sure he was responsible for.
The sad truth was that Faith was lonely. And maybe a bit horny. No, she thought, drawing in some air. She was a lot horny. But was he the man to take off the edge?
It’s just a dance. Don’t make a thing out of it.
She placed her hand in his. It looked tiny.
And when his arms slowly drew her against his body, she found herself holding her breath.
At that moment, she felt so much. It was more than attraction — that part was obvious.
It was need and want. It was a connection on a different level than anything she’d experienced before.
It made her think that maybe she’d dodged a bullet with Declan. Maybe she’d settled and was better off without him.
“Relax,” he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek.
“I just,” she stumbled over her words. “I’m tired I think.”
“Then let me take some of the weight.”
Faith resisted for as long as she could. As if her body was at war with what her head wanted. Then she slowly melted into him, and he moved them deeper into the shadows. She pressed her cheek against his chest. Let his strong arms gather her closer than she’d been with a man in months.
And it felt heavenly. She felt as though she had a protector — someone who could slay the dragons that lurked at the corners of this new world she’d found herself in. It was a pipe dream, of course. But one she was going to enjoy. At least as long as the song allowed her to.
She closed her eyes. Smiled to herself when his hand wandered lower to rest at the small of her back while the other settled along the side of her neck.
He moved easy for a man his size, and as the words of longing, love, and heartbreak washed over her, she felt tears at the corners of her eyes.
Her throat felt like it was full of unsaid things, and there was a big old knot at the back of it when the song finally ended.
After a few moments, Gus stopped moving.
His arms stayed where they were for a heartbeat longer, and then he allowed her to step out of his embrace.
With eyes downcast, she struggled for something clever to say. But how could she talk when her vocal cords were incapable of working properly? When she was on the verge of tears and had no idea how to stop them?
“Hey, are you okay?” His voice was rough and low. When he reached for her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, she wanted to melt into him once more, which was crazy. He lived across the hall from her in a home that housed temporary lodgers. He was temporary.
“I’m just tired,” she said slowly.
His hand moved to her chin, and he gently prodded until she had no choice but to look up at him.
“Let me walk you home.”
“But you just got here,” she said, resisting the urge to rest her cheek in the palm of his hand.
“I got my dance. I’m good to go.”
She considered his offer and slowly stepped away from his touch. She needed some space. Gus seemed to understand that, and the two of them began to walk away from the street dance. They headed back down Main which would eventually take them to Cedar, the cul de sac Lawson House called home.
Night sounds filled the gaps in their limited conversation — crickets and the occasional owl — and by the time they reached the house, Faith was no longer relaxed. In fact, she was wound so tight, the muscles in her neck ached.
She led the way into the house and didn’t pause before hitting the stairs. At the top of the landing, she stopped, trying to catch her breath and feeling she should say something. But what? A simple thank you didn’t seem to cut it.
Thanks for the dance?
The walk home?
Do you want to stick your tongue down my throat?
“I think we have a situation,” he said. His eyes were dark in the low light.
“Situation?” she managed to reply without sounding like a complete idiot.
He nodded. “The state of things between us.”
She took a beat and felt some of that tension melt away. “I wasn’t aware we had thing between us.”
“No?” He moved a bit closer. So close she felt the heat off of his skin. Smelled that fresh, earthy scent that was all him. “Do you want me to explain the situation?” A smile played around the corners of his mouth.
She lifted her chin. “I’m listening.”
“You want me.”
Eyes wide, she opened her mouth, an automatic denial on her tongue, but his fingers found their way to her lips, and he pressed against them gently.
“All good. I want you too.” He slowly caressed her top and bottom lips before leaning close.
Was he going to kiss her?
“But like I said, we have a situation.”
“What’s that?” She barely heard the words over the blood rushing through her veins. His eyelashes were so thick and long they should be illegal. And his nose had been broken at least once, but how did it look so perfect?
“We’re two healthy, single people. Would you agree?”
She nodded, unable to answer with actual words. He was too close. Too damn hot.
“We’re attracted to each other. Would you agree?”
Again, she nodded.
“We’ve already established that we want each other so the real question is, do we take our time with whatever this is, or do we get naked right now?”
Naked. She wanted to be completely naked with this man. She wanted his mouth on her. His hands everywhere. His mouth. His tongue. But . . .
“I don’t . . .” How could she articulate what was in her head? Her life was a mess. But did that mean she couldn’t indulge in a hot affair with a man who was just as closed off as she was? “I . . . we’ve only just met and . . . well, I don’t even know your last name.”
“Something else we have in common.”
“So maybe this is a bad idea.”
He held her gaze for a few long moments that stretched so thin she wanted to scream. “I think we take it slow. Ease into this thing.” Gus’s eyes darkened. “Whatever this thing is.”
He was going to kiss her now. She felt it in her liquefied, heated bones.
And he did. Gus slipped his hand alongside her cheek and held her in place while he swept his mouth across hers.
It was the lightest of touches, and yet it burned through her with all the power of a thousand suns.
Instant, molten desire rifled through her, and it took everything Faith had to hold in the groan that clogged her throat.
All of this with one kiss that wasn’t even a real kiss. It was more like a promise.
Gus stepped away from her, and she walked by him, praying her knees wouldn’t give out before she made it to her apartment. She reached for the lock, key in hand.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Faith.”
She unlocked her apartment and whispered, “Okay.”
She disappeared inside, where Taco immediately pounced on her.
She waited five minutes and then peered through the peephole to make sure the coast was clear.
When she knew Gus was safe inside his own apartment, she took Taco outside.
The dog took off for the dark corners of the yard, where the moon couldn’t penetrate, and she leaned against the railing, eyes on the night sky.
She was giddy. Hopeful. Scattered.
Faith decided she wouldn’t think about all the reasons why getting involved with someone like Gus was a bad idea.
She’d been on autopilot for months now. Drowning in the remnants of a life and world she would never again be a part of.
Grieving for the fairytale that, as it turns out, never really existed.
She was done with that.
The moon enveloped her under the cover of a night sky that was filled with magic, and for Faith — for tonight — it was enough to give her hope.
And for that, at least, she could be grateful.