49. Isaac
Chapter 49
Isaac
S omething snapped in my brain when she called. All the years of wondering and hoping that she felt the same way went out the window with one phone call. I’m certain she only called so I would stop her from seeing this guy. Or my delusional brain has convinced itself that I have a semblance of a chance to make her mine tonight. So I have been sitting outside fucking Piacersi since five p.m. I’m the dumbass that asked where they were going, but not when they were going.
I don’t know why I said it. I should’ve never given her what she asked for.
But, she did ask for it.
For someone who moonlights as my brother, Liam was incredibly unsupportive of my plan when I spilled all the details. He acts like he knows women, but I’m pretty sure the douche has never even had a real girlfriend. In fact, I actually have no idea what he’s been up to all those thousands of miles away.
“Another One Bites the Dust” plays quietly on the radio while I scan the parking lot for new cars. I assume whoever she’s going on a date with will have picked her up. Not knowing how and when she will arrive is seriously stressing me out.
“Another one bites the dust, all right.” I scoff.
After an hour or six, it’s go time. A brand-new black Escalade pulls into the valet parking, and a guy about my height and build steps out.
So he’s got money…
I watch as he walks around to the passenger side of the SUV and opens the door. A hand and leg appear simultaneously, and I know they belong to her.
Maybe this is a terrible idea.
I should let her find happiness with this guy.
But maybe I should stay just to make sure he’s a gentleman…
I can see her, but she can’t see me. And it needs to stay that way. I order my fourth cream soda of the night, and wish it was beer to numb the absolutely horrifying first date she’s on. I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t fallen asleep.
I can hear just enough of the conversation to know this guy isn’t for her. Between the misogyny and pure stupidity, I’m not sure if she’s gotten a word in the whole evening.
He goes on about something related to money, and she nods her head silently. I can’t see her face from this angle, but I just know the exact expression she’s making. I see it at every faculty meeting.
I should really leave before she sees me.
It’s a miracle I’ve stayed incognito at the bar this long.
My attention is momentarily pulled from her by the couple at the bar to my right. What started as a very quiet first date has turned into a full-on shouting match.
I feel the splash before I realize the woman next to me has thrown her entire drink into her date’s face.
Honestly, you go girl.
“Jo, isn’t that your brother?” It’s not until I hear his words that I realize that the entire restaurant is now looking right at us. Including Jo.
She’s smiling.
I know all of her smiles.
This is not a good one.
She stands up from her spot at the dining table, and takes three steps in my direction.
“Isaac.”
This jerk she’s with stands up next, and comes up beside her. He places his hand on the small of her back.
That’s it.
I stand from my bar stool, and in two large strides, I’m directly in front of her.
“Let’s go, Dr. Carello .” I glance quickly at her date, who looks more confused than I feel right now.
She shakes her head. “No, Isaac, I’m on a date. What are you even doing here?” she yells, now drawing the attention of the restaurant.
I don’t even have it in me to respond. Instead, I lose my mind and grab her behind her thighs, throwing her up over my shoulder.
“Isaac!” She screams, beating her fists on my back. “Put me down, you asshole!”
I grab her purse and jacket off the back of her chair with my free hand, willing myself not to think about the way the skin of her legs feels under my palm.
“Your brother, huh? Is that what I am to you?” I nod at the hostess, who hurriedly opens the front door for us, and thank her as we exit. I feel Jo extend at the waist to watch the restaurant and patrons disappear behind me before she starts yelling.
“Have you lost your damn mind?!” She’s pounding on my back with her fists now.
It takes but a few more steps to reach my car, and I place her bag and jacket on the roof. Wrapping both arms around her once again, I gently set her to her feet on the concrete.
We’re face to face now. All the air escapes my lungs.
She looks down at her shoes and then back up at me. I thought she would be angry with me, but her face tells me a different story.
I shouldn’t do this.
But fuck it .
I take a swift step towards her, and my right hand lands on the slope of her hip, pushing her back against the passenger-side door of my car.
She gasps, her hands flying up to land flat on my chest, but she doesn’t push me away. My eyes scan hers as my left hand grazes the arch of her cheekbone. A silent question hangs in the air, accentuated by the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.
She doesn’t nod.
No response is a no.
I drop my hand from her cheek to her wrist, still settled on my chest. She must feel my heart. That’s fucking embarrassing.
But before I can step back and admit defeat, she curls all ten of her fingers into my shirt and pulls me towards her.
“If you chicken out right now, I will never let you live it down,” she breathes quietly.
That’s all the encouragement I need.
The tips of my fingers skim under her top, meeting the skin of her hip. Before I can spend one more second of my life doubting that this is exactly what I need, my lips meet hers in a blast of heat and raw need.
She shifts her body weight, leaning into my chest.
Then she pulls away and I begin to panic. I knew this was too good to be true.
“Why did you tell me there was no chance for us?” Her cheeks flush, and whether it’s the result of arousal or embarrassment, I love it.
“You asked me to.”
She shakes her head with a laugh, and shocks me with a slap across the face. “You literal fucker!”
Without another word, she launches herself into my arms and wraps her legs around my torso. I back her up against the car once again, watching her gaze as she traces her nail along the neckline of my shirt.
“Why now?” she asks, barely loud enough for me to hear over the sound of my own breathing.
“I’m just doing what I should’ve done ten years ago.”