Chapter Eight
Eleven years earlier . . .
It took forever to get the check, so I emptied the cash from my wallet, and we left the restaurant.
Everleigh was hard to read. She seemed nervous and anxious.
Willing, yet a little terrified. As we waited for our ride, I held her sweaty hands, fingers interlaced, while pulling her into me.
She swallowed and squeezed my hands while gazing up at me with wide eyes.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, her voice breathy and shaky.
“Are you nervous?” I squinted.
Her head bobbed in a way that I couldn’t tell if she was shaking it or nodding. “If you’re going to kill me, make it fast. Okay?”
I didn’t move. Not a blink or a breath for several seconds. Then I barked a laugh, throwing back my head. “You think I’m going to murder you?”
Everleigh curled her lips between her teeth either to hide her grin or control her quivering.
“Then why are we going back to your apartment?” I asked.
“In case you’re planning on kissing me instead of killing me.” She wrinkled her nose while giving me a goofy grin.
I released her hands and took a step backward, running my fingers through my hair.
“Everleigh, you take the ride when it gets here. I’ll walk to my hotel.
” My hands flopped to my side. “We just met. Skepticism is good. It’s safe.
If it works out, we can meet up another night this week for dinner again.
If it doesn’t, then I’ll see you at the rehearsal, and that’s cool too.
It’s been fun.” I retreated another step as the ride pulled up to the curb.
She whipped her head to the left, looking at the car before turning toward me again. “Th-that’s it? You’re giving up that easily?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe tell me you’re a sane, honorable man. Then kiss me or something like that. Because I’ve never been kissed by a tall fireman with a mustache. And now I won’t be able to sleep without knowing what that’s like.”
Everleigh was different, a little quirky, but in the best possible way.
“For what it’s worth,” I said. “I don’t know what it’s like to kiss a tall fireman with a mustache either. But I bet it’s pretty amazing.”
Her smile engulfed her face.
“Have a good night.” I turned.
“Jeez, just kiss me already,” she said.
I smirked before turning. We stepped toward each other, and I grabbed her face. Before our lips touched, she sucked in a quick breath. It was an arousing sound, or maybe it was the way she hummed while her body melted against mine. It was something. She was something.
“Hey! Do you need a ride or not?” the driver yelled out the window.
Everleigh grinned, ending the kiss. “Just promise not to kill me,” she said.
“No promises. Get in the car.” I rolled my eyes and held open the door as she slid into the back seat.
When the driver pulled away from the curb, I leaned over and kissed her again. She had the softest skin. Silky hair that held a faint floral scent.
“Has anyone told you that you’re a good kisser?” she mumbled while I kissed her neck. Her fingers teased my nape as she giggled. “But your mustache tickles.”
“I’m not sure anyone has said those words”—I smirked—“but it’s been implied.” I kissed her again.
Everleigh wasn’t too shabby a kisser either. She moved her mouth against mine, and hummed when my tongue swept into her mouth. It made my dick so hard that I had to keep adjusting in the seat. The visceral attraction was stronger than anything I had experienced in a long time, maybe ever.
We stumbled out of the car and into the building’s entrance. She swiped a card that got us into the lobby, then she swiped it again to make the elevator ascend.
“Tell me to slow down,” I whispered over her lips while backing her into the corner of the elevator.
“Don’t slow down.” She fisted my shirt and rose onto her toes.
I grabbed the backs of her legs and lifted her off the floor. When she gasped, I quickly swallowed it with another long kiss while guiding her legs around my waist. We staggered to the apartment at the end of the hall on the fifth floor.
She broke the kiss with a little giggle, and I set her on her feet to open the door.
“Do you want a beer?” she asked, stepping into the dark room.
“Everleigh,” I whispered in her ear, standing behind her while my right hand slid up the front of her shirt and under her bra.
She drew in a sharp inhale that did things to me.
“I want to take off your clothes and bury my face between your beautiful legs,” I whispered.
“Cunnilingus?” She flipped a switch that turned on a standing lamp beside a sage green upholstered sofa with floral decor pillows. Plants filled every corner of the apartment, and some hung from macramé holders.
“What?” I stepped in front of her and curled her hair behind her ears, narrowing my eyes. Surely I heard her wrong.
She wrinkled her nose. “Um, the medical term is cunnilingus. Well”—she averted her gaze and blushed—“on a female. On a male, it’s fellatio.”
I laughed, dropping my hands to my sides as I bowed my head. “This is what I get for trying to seduce a medical student. I think I’ll take that beer after all.”
“Yeah?” She seemed excited that I opted for the beer.
Digging my teeth into my lower lip to control my grin, I nodded.
“I love Lego Star Wars, but my uh . . . roommate’s boyfriend plays Call of Duty, so if you want, we can play it. I’m not that good, though.” She handed me a can of beer.
“Well, maybe I can teach you,” I said, opening the can. “Where is your roommate?”
“London.” She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “But if my mom finds out, she’ll be livid.”
“Why?” I squinted before drinking the beer.
The apartment held a spice and wood scent with a hint of smoke, like she or her roommate burned incense.
“Uh, well, my mom is really protective.” Everleigh shrugged.
“You’re a grown woman.”
“I don’t think moms ever stop worrying about their kids.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Here. Let me see if the controllers are charged.” She stepped past me to dig them out of the basket under the coffee table.
“Have you been in a lot of weddings?” I asked, sitting on the lumpy sofa. The window air conditioner hummed behind it.
“No. This is my first time being a bridesmaid, and I’m really excited.” She handed me the controller and turned on the TV. “Is it your first time being a groomsman?”
“Nah. I’ve done it at least half a dozen other times.”
“Really?” She sat next to me and expertly worked the remote to bring up Call of Duty. “What are you going to do when you get married? You’ll have to reciprocate and have a dozen or more groomsmen.”
I chuckled. “I’ll cross that bridge if I come to it.”
She zoned into the game, even while I continued to look at her and the way she gnawed on her lower lip while focusing on the screen. After a few seconds, she gave me a quick sideways glance.
“What?” She narrowed her eyes for a second before refocusing on the screen.
“Nothing.” I grinned.
We played Xbox until three in the morning. While I finished a game by myself, she drifted off to sleep beside me on the sofa.
“I should leave,” I said, turning it off.
“Don’t go,” she whispered, her eyes barely open as she grabbed my arm.
“You’re tired, and I am too.”
“I thought”—she yawned—“we were having sex.” Her words came out a little slurred, as if she were barely conscious. “Or cunnilingus.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. I wasn’t into having sex with sleeping women. Still, I ducked my head and kissed her neck. “Want me to make you come, Everleigh?” My erection returned just from saying the words aloud. She still smelled like flowers, and I could only imagine how she tasted.
“I . . .” she mumbled, eyes closed, “think . . . so.” She was out.
It was a first. I didn’t know what to do, but when I stood, her grip on my arm tightened.
“Please,” she whispered without opening her eyes.
“Fine. But I’m taking off my shirt because it’s hot in here.”
She made a noise, but it didn’t sound like an objection, so I ditched my shirt and wedged my body beneath hers on the sofa.
Hours later, the sunlight hit my face through the sheer curtains, and I squinted open an eye. Everleigh was in the kitchen, and it smelled amazing, like eggs and butter. And she looked just as delectable with her hair in a bun, a clean white T-shirt, and frayed denim shorts.
“I made coffee,” she said. “Well, the Keurig did. Do you want cream or sugar?”
I sat up and stretched. “I want a shower, and I need to brush my teeth.”
“Oh, um. Sure.” She turned off the burner and set the spatula aside. “There are towels in the bathroom. And Maya has extra toothbrushes on the bottom shelf of the linen closet. We both use electric ones, but the dentist always gives a free one at our six-month checkups.”
I headed toward the bathroom. “Cream, no sugar, please.”
What was I doing spending a sexless night with a woman I met at a bar, and sticking around the next day for a shower and breakfast?
As I stepped into the tub and closed the glass sliding door, I shook my head and grinned.
During my shower, I noticed the bathroom door was no longer completely shut, but I knew I’d closed it.
“Are you going to join me or just watch?” I said because I was an asshole who liked to make her blush.
Click.
The door shut.
I laughed.
After the shower, I brushed my teeth and sauntered into the kitchen with my hair wet, shirt still on the floor by the sofa. “Whose violin?” I asked, nodding to the case on the floor by an overgrown plant.
“Mine.”
“How long have you played?”
“As long as I can remember. I think they handed it to me the second I came out of the womb.”
I chuckled.
“Here are your eggs and toast.” She shoved the plate into my chest without looking up at me.
“Thanks.” I took it and sat at the small table by the window overlooking a park with weathered wood play equipment and a tornado slide. “Are you any good?”
“I’m okay.” She shrugged.
“Play something for me.”
“What do you want me to play?”
I lifted an eyebrow at her while picking up the fork. “You can take requests?”
“Maybe.” Her nose wrinkled. “What are you requesting?”
“Surprise me.”
She lifted the case onto the other end of the table and pulled out the violin.
I had never met a violinist before her. It didn’t match the vision I had of the gamer from the previous night.
With it tucked under her chin, she began playing.
It took only a few seconds for me to recognize the song. “Are you playing ‘Titanic’?”
She rolled her eyes without pausing. “‘My Heart Will Go On.’”
I slowly ate my breakfast, barely tasting it because I was so enamored of her performance. Her body swayed and dipped as she played it flawlessly. Everleigh was fucking amazing.
When she finished, I dropped my fork and clapped as she held the violin in one hand and the bow in the other, taking a dramatic bow. Then she blushed while returning it to its case.
“That was incredible.”
“Thanks.” She averted her gaze for a second. “My paternal grandfather was a conductor, so my dad played, and that’s why he insisted I play.”
“Did your mom make you practice too?”
“Yes.” She latched the case and stepped past me to the counter, where she poured a cup of coffee. “She made me practice violin, and in return, he made me practice ballet since that’s what my mom insisted I do. It was all about them.” She laughed.
“Are you going to pirouette for me?”
She grinned, setting the mug on the table. Then she backed away and raised her arms in front of her, bending at the knees. “Plié,” she said.
I grinned.
She lifted onto her toes. “Relevé.” Then she raised one leg and spun. “Pirouette.” As she came to a stop, she extended her leg behind her and spread her arms like wings. “Arabesque.”
Did ballet turn me on? Apparently. Or at least, Everleigh making it look so easy made my dick hard.
“Come here,” I said.
She dropped her arms, and the big smile on her face softened as she padded her bare feet toward the table.
“You’re incredibly surprising,” I said, pinching a few threads hanging from the leg of her cutoffs.
She clenched her fists at her sides.
“Did you enjoy watching me shower?”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“You do.” I slid my hand along the back of her bare leg. “Why didn’t you join me?”
Again, she made an audible gulp, and her chest rose and fell slowly despite her racing pulse. I dragged my hand to the side of her leg and inched my thumb up her inner thigh.
Her lips parted, eyes closed. My gaze shifted between her face and my hand on her leg, thumb breaching the crotch of her underwear.