Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (8 page)

I offer her a side-long glance before directing my attention back to the road. “I have nothing to apologize for. I simply asked the woman to dinner.”

“I don’t know exactly what you said, but I know you offended her. No girl walks that fast in heels that high from a man who looks like you unless she’s pissed. Considering you spoke with her for all of five minutes before she stormed off, I’d say you have something to apologize for.”

I open my mouth to object, but she speaks again before I can.

“And you know what else? There’s no such thing as
no strings
. There are always
strings
. Especially if you’re having sex. Sometimes, I swear, our whole world is in denial! Sex is extremely intimate. You can trick your brain into thinking it’s not, but there’s more to your body than your brain. And for you to approach her and suggest
your company
with no strings—I mean, do you ever stop and think before you say shit like that? Maybe she thinks she’s worth strings. And you know what? She
is
. So maybe you and all of your asshole glory can’t comprehend how the idea of casual sex with you could be offensive, but not all women are interested in the idea of offering you their bodies with the promised
illusion
of
no strings.
”

“Christ, woman—do you always ramble when you’re trying to convince me I’m an asshole?” I ask, remembering her long-winded speech from earlier this year, when she told me to stop coming onto her. I’ll never remember everything she said, but I do recall hearing her call me an asshole more than once before she suggested we be friends.

“Just apologize to her, Jude. That’s all I’m saying.”

She turns away from me, looking out her window as she grows silent.

I think about what she just said—some of it, at least. I don’t agree with her, of course. I’m not a man who does relationships. I consider it fair that I express that before any woman can get the wrong idea. Relationships are overrated. Love is simply a concept—a choice—and people change their mind like they change their wardrobe. To choose to be in a relationship, hoping to fall in love, is a fool’s errand. In the end, there is always a possibility that it all amounts to nothing.

I’ve been in love before. I know what a relationship looks like. The things that are expected—faithfulness, commitment, love—they are all just
choices
. To trust another human being to make the same choice every day—it’s foolish. I learned that the hard way, and I’m never going back there.

So I will not apologize for my honesty. It is a choice I can live by. It is a choice that I can
swear
by. And I
will
get Teddy in my bed. One way or another, I’m a man who gets what he wants. It’s a promise I made to myself long ago, and I keep my promises.

I press my head against the filing cabinet, the cool metal against my forehead a welcome sensation. I close my eyes and, for a moment, it’s as if I can feel his long, warm fingers on my face. Even now, in my solitude, just remembering him makes me short of breath. I told him I wasn’t flattered by his proposition—which is true. The fact that he wants to see me naked—
me, a complete stranger
—it means nothing more than that he has a penis and he’d like to use it. That’s not an uncommon desire among men.

But the way he looked at me…

I don’t know that anyone has ever looked at me quite like that before.

I gasp, almost choking on air when I feel a hand press against the small of my back. I whirl around, surprised and disturbingly disappointed to find Geoffrey looking at me with a concerned scowl. I cover my face with my hands, wondering why I thought it could be anyone else—why a tiny part of me wishes it was
Judah
.

“Teddy, why are you hiding in the supply closet?”

“I’m not. I’m not hiding,” I say, not sounding the least bit convincing. I sigh, dropping my hands to my sides as I look up into his blue eyes, filled with question. “I needed a minute.”

The corner of his mouth curls up into a devious smile. “Theodora Rose Fitzpatrick.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile, willing my irritation to reign supreme in this moment. He’s about to call me out, and I’m not ready for it.

“I’m not even going to ask if you think he’s hot because we both know he’s a walking wet dream.” I blush and his smile grows wider. “Did he ask you out?” I nod my response. “Did you say yes?” I shake my head
no,
and he studies me for a moment. “Why not?”

“Um,” I pause, still a little shocked that what I’m about to repeat is part of a conversation that really just happened. “He said that I would be an exceptionally welcome beauty in his bed.”

Geoff’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as his mouth falls open. “Holy shit,” he manages. “The balls on that guy.” He coughs out a laugh and then shakes his head at me. “Then again, I’d fuck him.”

I gasp, smacking him against his chest. “Geoffrey Alexander Fink!”

“Teddy, come on—a man who wears a suit that well, and who is bold enough to speak to you like that, he’s a guaranteed good lay. Besides, he’s not wrong. You
are
beautiful.”

“Oh, thanks. Let’s just forget that
minor
detail that I’ve never actually had consensual sex with anyone. Sure, yeah, fucking him is actually a
great
idea. What was I thinking?”

I start to walk away from him, angry that he would treat Judah’s suggestion almost as flippantly as the arrogant man himself. As my best friend, someone who knows the extent of my devastating sexual history, I expect more from him—on the mend from a breakup or not.

Unfortunately, I don’t get very far before he catches me around the waist, holding me hostage in his strong grip. I try to turn out of his grasp, but he just holds me tighter.

“Teddy—look at me.”

I ignore him, staring at the floor instead. Even though he’s holding me against my will, I still feel safe in his arms. It’s not because he’s gay, either. I just know him. I know he would never hurt me. He’s one of very few men in my life that I trust this much. My relationship with Justin broke me, carving out wounds that might not ever be completely healed. Geoff knows this—he knows that half the reason I don’t date very often is because dealing with the issue of sex is not something I’m willing to grapple with right now.

“Teddy, please?”

His warm, pleading tone softens me a little and I peek at him from beneath my lashes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm. I know how big of a deal sex is for you. I also know how much it scares you. But, baby girl—it’s been over four years.

“Now, I’m not saying jump into bed with the next guy who asks. I know you. I know that goes against your beliefs, religious and otherwise; but you can’t run from it forever. You have to put yourself out there. You have to let someone at least
try
to prove that they are worthy of you. Sex is a beautiful thing, and you are a beautiful girl—inside and out. You deserve to experience the passion that comes with that kind of intimacy.” He presses his lips against my forehead, causing my eyes to tear up. “Stop running, baby girl,” he whispers against my skin.

“I wish it was that easy,” I say, shaking my head at him.

“I know that it’s not,” he says, looking down at me once more. “But you can’t just let life pass you by. You’re never going to get your twenties back. And you can stand here and argue with me until you’re blue in the face, but I’m never going to believe you when you tell me that your life is complete just the way that it is. It’s not.

“No one should go through life not knowing what it’s like to be
in love
. And Justin—Justin doesn’t count. That was not love. That was a selfish, lying, son-of-a-bitch who is something far less than a man. You have to know that there is better out there.”

“I know,” I whisper, wiping away a renegade tear.

“You have to believe it, too, baby girl. You have to
know
and
believe
that there are good men out there. Falling for one of them is not the end of the world. Hell, fall for a couple of them. I know I have. I don’t regret it, either. It’s better to have loved and lost, right?”

I shrug, unable to offer him more. I know that if I try and speak now, I’ll only burst into tears.

“That sexy fucker might have been an asshole, but not all guys are Justin. You’ll kiss a few assholes before you find one you’re willing to put up with.” I smile up at him and he smiles back before pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “And I don’t count,” he adds with a wink. That makes me giggle and he wraps me in a hug. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, nodding against his chest. “I’m good.”

My stomach growls and he chuckles, pulling away from me before reaching for my hand. “Come on. Your salad’s getting soggy.”

I follow his tug, both of us exiting the closet, and I hope that my eyes don’t speak of our emotional conversation. I know if Andy catches on to the fact that I even
thought
about crying, he’ll be eyeing me with concern for the rest of the week. I certainly don’t need him worrying about me
and
Geoffrey, so I’m relieved when I don’t see him anywhere.

With the gallery as quiet as it is, I don’t even think twice before popping open the lid to my salad from where I sit behind the reception desk. Geoffrey takes his seat beside me and I pepper him with questions about their earlier appointment while I eat. When I’m finished, we both get back to work; but try as I might, I can’t get Judah out of my head. I do my best not to overthink it. He has a face that’s hard to forget. I decide that remembering him for one afternoon is only natural. Tomorrow, he’ll be hardly more than a memory.

As soon as I sit down at my desk Wednesday morning, I open up my email in hopes that I’ll find some correspondence from Mr. Dixon. I’m disappointed when I discover that my inbox is flooded with a dozen messages, not one of them from
him
. Logan sent him a variety of art selections for him to choose from for the wall décor in his office on Monday afternoon. His silence has prevented me from having an excuse to make a return visit to the MTA gallery.

Dixon. Such a fucking pain in my ass
.

I’ve thought of Teddy often for the last day and a half. Her brown eyes. Her pretty freckles. Her pink mouth—her bottom lip just a little fuller than the top. Her long, wavy, red hair. Her delicate frame, which begs to be
broken
in the most delicious, forbidden, and explicit ways.

“Hey, good morning,” says Logan, pulling me from my thoughts.

I look up and find her hovering in the doorway, as if waiting for permission to come in.

“Logan, you have a habit of inviting yourself into my office, so I’m confused as to why you’re standing out there.”

“Actually, I’m—” She stops, resting her hand on her stomach before she shakes her head at me. “Never mind. I don’t really have anything of importance to share with you, I was just curious about whether or not you ever took care of that issue.”

“What issue?”

“You were going to apologize to the woman from the gallery, remember?”

I lean back in my chair as I furrow my brow at her. “I recall you insisting that I should. I don’t, however, remember agreeing to it.”