3. Anya
CHAPTER 3
Iwake up with the worst headache and I feel sick. So much for drinking myself to a stupor last night.
I hold my head and stare at the ceiling. It takes a couple of minutes after I wake up to realize that I’m at home, lying on my own couch. The last thing I remember is kissing some guy, a handsome guy last night. I throw a hand over my mouth and jolt up. I kissed him.
Shit.
I look down at my body; I’m still fully clothed, and my bra intact, which means he didn’t touch me inappropriately. I mean, I wouldn’t have minded if we’d hit it off last night, but he respected that I was drunk and didn’t do anything.
A coy smile tugs at the corners of my lips. I had been certain that he desired me as much as I did him. The way his eyes lingered on my curves and the heat in his touch were all signs of his own carnal desires. But beneath his primal urges, I could see the genuine goodness in him - a rarity in these times where most men are nothing but self-serving bastards.
My grin fades when I glance at the tickets strewn on the coffee table. I had been anticipating the concert, but now it seems like I'll have to go by myself. It's not my preference to go alone, especially with everyone else bringing their significant others, but I can't let the money I spent on both tickets go to waste either.
A sigh escapes my lips as I struggle to my feet and pad to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. It’s my last semester as a vet student and I have to leave for a seminar in about an hour.
After my coffee, I quickly take a shower, put on a simple summer dress, and hurry out of the house.
The professor in charge, Mr. White, is already at the podium as I slip inside the large hall and make my way to a chair in the back row. Whether he notices me or not, he doesn’t say, which I’m grateful for.
Maybe it’s because it’s his last day as a professor, but he goes on to give a long speech about how happy he is as our professor. Before we part ways, he wishes us the best and expresses his pride in our pursuit of becoming veterinarians. He even offers the opportunity to work at his small town vet clinic if we struggle to find a job in the city. This conversation takes up nearly an hour of our time.
Afterwards, I head to a nearby café for breakfast.
Time flies by very quickly, and by evening I’m rummaging in my wardrobe for a dress to wear to the concert. There’s a pile of clothes on the floor and even more clothes on the bed.
It’s been a while since I invested in nice clothes for a night out. In fact, I doubt I’ve bought any in the two years I dated Spencer. For him, dating meant me going over to his tiny apartment, sharing a box of pizza, and cuddling to watch a TV show. It sounded cool at first, but apparently he only did it because that was all he thought I was worth.
Turns out, he’d taken the other woman on dates, a lot of times. Or maybe I was the other woman.
A surge of anger pulsates through my body, tightening my chest and making my blood boil. I can feel the rage coursing through my veins, fueled by my own stupidity and blindness. I had been ignoring all the red flags that now seem glaringly obvious. It's a bitter realization, one that leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
A sigh drags up my throat as I return my attention to my closet. I spot a red dress I got some time ago. I’ve only worn it once for a dinner party with my cousin, before she moved to the small town where she currently lives. It’s a silky, thin-strapped dress. Nothing too fancy, but perfect for a classical music concert.
I smile as I grab it from the closet and get dressed. My mind briefly darts to the man from the bar last night as I do my makeup. He’d been so freaking handsome that I forgot to breathe each time I looked at him. If I hadn’t been wasted, I would have asked for his number, or maybe I would have invited him to the concert. He didn’t strike me as the type who would hook up anywhere outside the club, but I may have been wrong. I misjudged him last night anyway.
After getting my makeup just right, I spend an extra twenty minutes curling my hair to perfection. As a final touch, I grab a silver purse that complements my silver heels before heading over to the full-length mirror in the corner of my room.
I look good. I guess this is what they call the breakup glow. Not that I’d date anyone yet; I don’t want a rebound, but a fling doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Maybe I’ll meet someone who’s up for hanging out sometimes. It’s moments like this that I miss Gianna. We’d be drinking and cussing out our exes if she were here.
My attention is caught off guard when the doorbell rings. I don't often have unexpected visitors and I haven't ordered any packages, so I'm left wondering who could be at my door as I make my way to the small foyer of my apartment and swing open the door.
The man's dark brown eyes are intense, locking onto mine and seeming to see everything. His six-foot-something frame towers over me, and I can't help but notice the way his tousled dark hair falls slightly over his forehead. His broad shoulders and sharp jawline give him a rugged and handsome appearance, made even more striking by the tailored suit he's wearing. In his hands, he holds a bouquet of crimson roses, their velvety petals vibrant against his crisp white shirt.
“Hey,” I inhale deeply to keep myself from stuttering, it is the guy who I kissed last night and I can’t think of his name. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes crinkle as he smiles. He’s perfection in human form, I swear. “Brandon is here to take you to the concert,” he says, holding out the roses to me. “You look beautiful by the way.”
My cheeks heat as I take the flowers from him and mutter, “Thank you Brandon. The flowers are gorgeous.”
“Not as gorgeous as you are.” He twists his head to his truck, parked in the driveway, then he returns his gaze to me. “So, will you allow me to take you to the concert, or do you already have someone else to go with?”
I’m melting under his scrutiny. Last thing I remember, I was kissing this guy before I blacked out. I don’t recall telling him about the concert so it must’ve slipped out in my drunken state, and I’d be stupid to turn him down. A sheepish smile curves my lips. “I’ll go with you.”
His smile widens. “Then we better hurry or we’ll be late.”
I lock up my apartment and follow him as he leads the way to his truck. Like a gentleman, he opens the car door and holds it for me to climb in, then he rounds the car to the driver’s seat.
My ex never did that. Not even at the start of our relationship.
The engine roars to life beneath me and he rears the car forward into the busy road. I’m nervously staring out the window, admiring the streetlights, when he asks, “Did you have a bad hangover? You were pretty wasted last night.”
“Given how much I drank, I’d say I had a decent hangover.” I drag all of my attention to him now. “Thank you for driving me home last night, and for not being…a pervert.”
He glances at me briefly before returning his gaze to the road. “Taking you home and making sure you were safe was the decent thing to do. What were you expecting?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I flirted with you and even…” Scarlet red burns my cheeks at the memory of my lips on his. I’d savored the taste of the negroni in his mouth.
A smirk tugs on his lips. “Are you ashamed because you kissed me?”
“No, not that,” I reply sharply. Such an obvious lie. “I mean, I kissed you only because I was drunk.” There is a slight quiver in my voice,
He slows down as he navigates the car through a corner. “That hurts my feelings, you know. I thought you kissed me because you were attracted to me.”
“That too.” I roll my eyes. Honesty suddenly tastes bitter at the tip of my tongue. “Did you hate that I kissed you?”
I swear I see a flicker of lust in his eyes. “I loved it. I’d be a fool to say otherwise. Do you kiss guys whenever you’re drunk?”
“That was a first,” I answer, fiddling with the chain strap of my purse between my fingers.
His tongue swipes over his lips. “I’m glad it was with me. It means we’re more than just strangers who met in a bar.”
I bite back a smile. “Don’t tell me you think we were destined to meet and fall in love at first sight. It’s cliché.”
He chuckles softly. “There are connections deeper than love. I think that is what we have. I wouldn’t call it fate or anything cliché.”
I’m trying to divert my mind from the churning in my stomach and the sudden awareness of my body from how close he is. If he moves his hand even a bit, it’ll be on my thigh.
“And your ex-boyfriend?”
I heave a deep sigh. “I don’t want to talk about him, nothing good comes from doing that. He can enjoy his life with the girl he cheated on me with for all I care.”
Brandon snaps his head to me as if in shock. “How can you get over his betrayal that easily?”
A tang of sadness tightens my throat. “I haven’t gotten over it, I just don’t want to dwell on it. The truth is that our relationship pretty much ended the first five months. The signs were there, I just chose to ignore everything.”
"Did you manage to get some anger out at least?" He asks with a smirk. "I've found that breaking something can be quite therapeutic."
My mouth falls open in surprise but I can't contain the smile spreading across my face. "You don't strike me as someone who resorts to violence."
He runs his fingers through his messy hair. "Believe me, my daily life is full of it." I narrow my eyes at him.
“Are you a terrorist or something? I might hire you to do some dirty work for me, Bran.”
His chuckle reverberates through the car. It’s so rich and deep that I’d spend a whole day just listening to him laugh. “Are you teasing me right now?”
“Do you have a problem with being teased?”
“No.”
Good, because I’m about to torture him with questions. “Are you in a relationship, Bran?”
He shakes his head. “My last relationship ended years ago.”
I gape at him. “So you’ve been single for years?”
He nods. “Pretty much so.”
“Are you celibate?” I’m not asking just because I’m wondering about the dirty things we can do together. I’m genuinely curious.
A cough rumbles from his chest, followed by a laugh. “Are you always this direct?”
“If it’s with a handsome guy, then yes.” I twist my body to face him. “So, are you celibate?”
“No.” He brings the car to a stop in the parking lot of the concert building. I hiss, disappointed I’ll have to save the remainder of my questions for later.
Brandon opens the door for me and, just as I’m sliding out of the truck, the tips of our fingers brush. A sharp spark flares to life, searing through me until my heart is a throbbing mess. When he curls his hand around my waist to lead me inside the concert hall, my body tenses. Just thinking about his hand sliding further down gives me sharp palpitations.
We find our seats in the front row of the hall. I don’t think I told him it’s a classical opera concert, but he doesn’t seem bothered by this as Mon coeur s'ouvre à ta voix by Camille Saint-Sa?ns fills the quiet room.
As the concert progresses, Brandon’s hands find mine and his touch sparks undeniable desire within me. I can’t fathom if he feels the same way.
“Thanks for tonight,” I say as I slide down from his car and try not to notice how tall Brandon is.
It is a struggle to keep my mind on anything that isn’t him, my heart is pounding hard in my throat. I want this man so badly and I don’t think I can get my thoughts to align until I have him.
We’re standing in front of my apartment right now. The night air is cool and crisp, carrying the scent of distant flowers and freshly cut grass. As the clock ticks closer to midnight, the stillness of the night surrounds me. The only sounds are those of my neighbors sleeping soundly in their beds. The urge to raise myself on my toes and kiss him grows stronger with each passing second, and there is nothing standing in my way. Not a single obstacle to prevent this fleeting moment from becoming a reality.
A soft breeze wafts his cinnamon scent to my nose. I inhale all of it, delighting in how good he smells.
“It was nothing,” he says, giving me a look that shows just how much he wants me. “I had fun too. I should be thanking you.”
I lick my lips and bite my bottom lip. “Yeah.”
We’re both silent for a moment. His eyes bore into mine with such intensity that my pulse races. It’s impossible to miss the tension and heat crackling between us.
And then, unexpectedly, he leans down and cups my cheeks. “Can I?”
Just two words that don’t mean much of anything, yet they mean so much to me. I find myself nodding desperately and pressing on my toes to bring my mouth within the same breathing space as his.
His lips mesh with mine as he kisses me. He’s gentle at first as his tongue seeks entrance, and once I let him in, his kiss turns ravenous and desperate. Too deep for my body to handle.
I wrap my arms around his neck, moaning into his mouth as I kiss him back. His own arms curl around my waist as he whisks me up from the ground and carries me to the front door.
He doesn’t stop kissing me even as I struggle to find my key and fit it in the lock. We rip each other’s clothes off the second we’re inside my apartment, and neither of us break our kiss as our hands roam over each other’s naked bodies. Our fingers trace every curve and contour of each other's body, hot and urgent.
My moans and gasps fill the room, the only sound breaking the heavy silence. His deep, ragged breathing in my ear is the perfect accompaniment to our entangled bodies.
It doesn’t feel like two strangers having sex. No. This isn’t just sex, it is love-making. Sensual and gentle, yet intense and mind-blowing.
My head rolls back and my eyes tighten. I curl my legs around his waist, my nails digging into his back, my entire body on fire.
Brandon lets out a loud groan and then rolls off of me, causing me to fall on top of him. We both end up on the floor in a tangled heap.
“That was so good,” he whispers in my ear. His warm breath caresses my earlobes. “You’re amazing, Anya.”
He’s perfect. As I look up at him, his brown eyes sparkle with adoration and affection. His dark hair falls perfectly into place, framing his handsome face. Every part of what we just shared was better and more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced.
The soft moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. My lashes flutter closed as I feel a contented smile spread across my face.