Before You: Standalone Contemporary Romance (5 page)

All of this would have been perfect had André been one to take long showers. The moment I took the shirt off, the shower shut off, and I was left standing half naked in the middle of the room with the decision to frantically throw on clothes and grab everything in the time it would take him to dress and exit the bathroom, or calm down, take my time, get everything ready, and stay out of sight so I could leave when the moment was right.

I chose option B.

Slipping the shirt back over my head, I collected my toiletries and fresh clothing so I could shower myself. I figured since I couldn’t leave immediately then I may as well clean up first so I could fly home feeling somewhat human. Maybe by the time I got out of the shower, he’d have left the apartment for something, and I’d completely avoid having to face my humiliation any further. There was no food left in the house after yesterday. So, one could only hope he’d be hungry and leave immediately.

While I waited to hear the sound of André leaving, I prepared my things so I could grab my bag and go the moment I had a chance. Then I stripped the sheets off Dave’s bed and bundled up all the laundry. I’d have to pack it and wash it on the other end. I didn’t have time to go down to the laundry room now. When I was almost done, I heard the sound of a door click closed. It was so quiet, I wasn’t sure which one it was and moved to listen at the bedroom door, waiting to see if I could hear where he was before I went out there.

Everything was quiet. No matter how hard I strained my ears, I couldn’t hear any movement. He must have left.

I opened the door, just a crack to peek out and almost passed out when he was standing right in front of it.

I let out the most ridiculously girly squeal at the shock of his close proximity then slammed the door shut, breathing heavy as I leaned against it. This wasn’t part of the plan at all. I was trying to avoid him. And I was hoping to spend the rest of my life being successful at that task.

“Willa,” he said calmly on the other side. “Can you open the door please?”

“What the hell are you doing just standing there without knocking? You scared the crap out of me!” I yelled through the door defensively, trying to get my heart to slow down and beat a regular rhythm.

He waited a moment before he spoke. “I was trying to decide whether it would be best to pretend that last night didn’t happen or whether we should talk about it.”

“I think pretending is the best plan of action,” I responded.

“I think we should talk about it. Will you please open the door?”

Slowly, I moved and opened the door, wanting to keep my eyes from meeting his, but completely unable to stop it the moment he was in view.

“I really don't want to talk about it. I’m embarrassed enough as it is. Can we please just leave it alone? I'd really prefer to pretend it never happened.”

His eyes softened. “You shouldn't be embarrassed.”

“Well, I am. You made me feel like I was the only person involved in that...that...moment. But
you
pulled
me
in. And it was
your
tongue in
my
mouth, not the other way around. It wasn’t just me.”

His eyes dropped to my lips momentarily, and a spark of arousal jolted in my stomach. God I wished he were kissing me instead of trying to talk about why he wouldn’t kiss me. I already understood it wasn’t going to happen and really just wanted to get out of there and move on.

Touching my hand to my forehead, I felt a little lightheaded with him standing so close. I needed to take a step back. I used the handle of the door for support and kept moving until the door touched the wall. Bad idea. His eyes left mine and took in the unmade bed and my things sitting neatly on the mattress.

“What is this?” He looked hurt, as if the thought of me leaving could actually upset him, but it was only for a moment – a split second of vulnerability before his expression clouded over and his face was controlled once more. “You’re leaving?”

I shrugged slightly. “I think that’s best. Don’t you?”

He shook his head slowly. “No. Running never fixes anything. It just creates regret.”

“I suppose you know all about that, do you?”

“Yeah. I do.” He stared at me for a long moment, not elaborating any further, and it was me who broke the silence.

“What is there to fix here, André? Tell me? Because whatever is going on, none of it makes any sense to me.”

He took a small step closer to me, and leaned against the opposite edge of the door. “I messed up, and I’m sorry. It was wrong. It was stupid. And it will never happen again. I should never have kissed–”

“I wanted you to,” I interrupted.

He let out his breath slowly, and I noticed the tightness in his body. Beneath the grey cotton of the t-shirt he was wearing with black sweatpants, he was coiled. His feet were bare, and looking down, I could see that even his toes were pressed into the hard floor. He was filled with tension. I was filled with tension. That same tension seemed to affect him just as much as it affected me. Actually, it was radiating off his body, vibrating into mine. It stole my breath, set my heart pounding and drew me toward him.

Closer.

Closer.

“What are you doing?” he whispered. They were the same words he’d used last night, but hearing them sober, I realized they weren’t an accusation. It was more a statement of wonder – of him wondering why he felt as powerless to this attraction as I did. He wanted to know what I was doing when we both knew this was a bad idea. He was my brother’s friend – they worked together. They were roommates. And anything that happened between us could make things very, very awkward when they didn’t work out. And I knew they wouldn’t. I’d never been able to make a relationship work in my life, and I was fairly sure André had never had what would be considered a steady girlfriend – he didn’t seem the type...

“Something stupid,” I whispered in return, placing my hands on his chest as I looked up at him through my lashes. His hands curled around my wrists, warm and strong, anchoring me in place.

I’m not sure if it was me, or if it was him, or both of us at the same time, but our lips met, and the world exploded out of my nerve endings.

Our mouths moved together, and my fingers curled and gripped his shirt. At the same time, his grip around my wrists tightened. The kiss deepened as his tongue pushed past my lips, demanding. I moaned into his mouth, sliding my tongue against his, my hands trapped against his chest, opening and closing, pulling at his shirt, wanting him closer, wanting more.

Then as suddenly as it started, he dropped his head, breaking the kiss as he released my wrists and turned away with an angry growl.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, before beginning to pace back and forth and mumble to himself in German as he raked his hands through his hair.

I stood there with my mouth open. Unable to speak. Unable to understand what was going on. He kept rejecting me, and I kept going back for more.

What was wrong with me?

I wasn’t normally like this.

Finally he stopped pacing and stood in front of me, hands on his hips. “I promised Dave that I wouldn't touch you – I gave him my word.”

I looked at him, my brow furrowed as I tried to fight my hurt over yet another rejection as well as my attraction to everything there was about him. "I thought your word didn’t mean much," I said, remembering our conversation from the day before.

His eyes met mine, and my heart jolted. I needed it to stop doing that. I felt as though I had no control around him. I needed some control.

"It doesn’t. But it means something to him and you’re his sister...”

My eyes stung and I folded my arms across my chest. “And friends don’t date friend's sisters, right?”

“That’s because friends know all the reasons you’re bad for someone they care about. And I promise you, Willa, I’m no good for you. I’m no good for anyone. You don’t want me.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s such a cop out. It’s what guys who ‘don’t do relationships’ do because they’re too scared to actually feel something say. And I don’t need that shit. Use my brother as an excuse; tell me you’re bad for me – whatever it is that makes you feel better about yourself. Just don’t stand there and tell me not to run away when all I’m doing is removing myself from a shitty situation.”

His expression looked as though he’d been slapped. He hadn’t been expecting me to come back with anger. He’d probably used that excuse with girls before and had them feel sorry for him or something. I didn’t know. All I knew was that he was messing with my head, and it was hurting my heart.

“I’m an asshole. I don’t date. I don’t make promises. Dave is right to keep me away. He should have warned you away too. I don’t want to you hurt you.”

I raked my hands through my hair in frustration. “Why – because I’m ‘special’? That’s bullshit because you don’t even know me. You don’t know what kind of a girl I am. I could be a long-term girl, or a love ‘em and leave ‘em type of girl. Or I could be the kind of girl who isn’t interested in a relationship at all.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to say. We barely know each other, and in the couple of days we have there’s been this...” I lifted my hands, curling my fingers as if I was holding something and signaled to my chest as if I was trying to pull the feeling out of me. I wished I could so I could get rid of it. “This intensity between us. It’s like this push and pull, and it kind of feels like there’s this ball in my chest every time I look at you and I can’t breathe, André. Do you understand that? I. Can’t. Breathe. Around. You. I just...I don’t want to keep feeling like this. I don’t want to keep wanting you to kiss me then having you push me away when you do. It’s making me feel like shit.”

“I won’t kiss you again. I give you my word,” he interrupted.

I shook my head. “Your word is worthless. You said so yourself. And I don’t want your word. I just want to go home. You know, I was going to feed you some lame line about needing to get back for work, but in reality, I’m leaving because of you. I don’t think I can keep being around you without making a complete fool of myself when you so obviously don’t want me. I’m sorry. But you and I living under the same roof isn’t going to work. Now, if you can get out of my way, I’m going to take a shower before I get out of your life.”

With his body rigid, he stepped his large frame out of the doorway and let me pass. My skin bristled as I moved near him, and I hesitated for a moment, allowing the feeling to wash over me. In my twenty-four years on this earth, I’d never felt an attraction as strong as what I was feeling with André. And in that same amount of time, I’d never felt such aggravation with a person upon our first meeting. It was if we clashed and somehow our minds and our personalities got all mixed up and tangled in with each other, and now we were left in a mess and the only way to fix it, was to pull away and hope we’d still walk away as ourselves. Although, I had this terrible feeling that I wouldn’t be able to...

As I showered, I tried to convince myself that me leaving was a good thing. There was just too much drama going on, and way too soon. I didn’t need that in my life. And I’m sure he didn’t either. I’d go home, and he’d find somewhere else to live, and we’d never have to see each other again. Everything would be fine. Everything would be normal.

I just needed to figure out why the thought of that made me so sad.

––––––––

W
hen I got out of the shower, André wasn’t in the apartment anymore and there were five missed calls from Dave on my cell. I picked it up and dialed him back immediately.

“What the fuck did he do?” he demanded the moment we connected.

“You got my message then?”

“Yeah I did. What the fuck happened? I’ll fucking kill him if he touched you.”

“Nothing, Dave. It’s fine. I overreacted,” I assured him, feeling instantly bad for having called Dave and drag him into the weirdness that was between André and me. I wasn’t thinking, and I should have just handled it on my own.

“Bullshit, Will. You wouldn’t have left that message if everything was fine.”

“It’s nothing, really. He just...he barely talks to me, and I thought he took something of mine, but then I found it and realized that I was wrong. We just...we don’t really gel.” I was lying through my teeth.

“What? What did you think he took?”

“Ah...um...”I looked around the room, trying to think of something that seemed feasible and my eyes landed on my toiletries bag. “My razor.”

“Your
what?
”

“My razor. It’s a really good one, and I thought he took it and would blunt it with his hairy face.”

He let out an irritated sigh. “Seriously? That’s what you called me in a tizz for? That’s why you want to kick a man out into the street? Over a fucking razor? Are you off your meds again?”

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the last jibe. “I’m sorry. But everything is fine. I guess I just overreacted, what with the awesome first meeting we both had...”

“Yeah, I’m getting that you guys don’t really get along.” His voice seemed to calm down a bit. “Listen, he doesn’t have any family to help him out. And besides a hotel, he wouldn’t have anywhere else to go on such short notice. Do you think you could put up with him long enough for him to find somewhere to stay? Maybe even help him find somewhere when you get back to LA? Can you handle that?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I felt as though a ball of stress was gathering in the pit of my stomach, waiting to mix with a ball of lust and a ball of anxiety. I was beginning to come undone. I could feel the whispers at the edge of my mind.

“Are you sure you’re OK?” he asked when I didn’t answer straight away.

“I’m fine. I can handle that. Everything will be fine.” How could I tell Dave that I’d gotten drunk with his roommate and kissed him then had a fight about it the next day, plus kissed him a second time? Not only did it sound like high school drama, but it would also cause problems between Dave and André, and I really didn’t want to be the cause of that. “I’m sorry for acting like a little kid. I guess I’m just not sleeping very well.”