Give Us a Chance (20 page)

"Jake?" the waitress says.

He turns his head to see her and I hear a short sigh escape his lips. "Hey, Lana."

"Hey." She leans her hip against the table, her eyes on Jake as she chews on the tip of her pen. "Haven't seen you for a while."

"Yeah, it's been a few months." He finds my hand under the table and holds it securely in his.

"What have you been up to?" She smiles and tilts her head.

From their reaction to each other, it's obvious they slept together. I try to stay calm, fighting the urge to tell this girl to get the hell away from Jake. He's mine. Actually, he's not. I don't know what we are. Maybe that's why I'm feeling so unsure about him. Because I'm not sure what we are or where this is going. We haven't talked about it, and it's too soon to bring it up.

"Mostly just working," Jake says.

Lana keeps her eyes on him, circling her tongue suggestively around the tip of the pen. I'm about ready to punch her, but then feel Jake still holding my hand and relax.

He clears his throat. "We're all set on drinks so..."

"What are you doing later tonight?" she asks.

Seriously? I'm right here. Can she not see me?

"I have a girlfriend," he says, putting his arm around my shoulders.

I'm so shocked, I nearly fall off my stool. He's calling me his girlfriend? Is he only doing it to get rid of Lana?

"This is Ivy." He lightly squeezes my shoulder. "Ivy, this is Lana."

She ignores me. "Girlfriend?" She laughs. "You don't have girlfriends, Jake. You're a use 'em and lose 'em type of guy. Everyone knows that."

"I used to be, but I'm not anymore. Ivy is my girlfriend and we're on a date and we'd like some time alone."

Lana huffs and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. We'll see how long she lasts." She saunters off, stopping at a table full of guys to take their order. She does the smile and head tilt thing and will probably end up going home with one of them.

"Sorry about that," Jake says, keeping his arm around me as he takes a drink of his rum and Coke.

"Guess I have to get used to it," I say, more harshly than I meant to. "It seems to happen wherever we go."

"Ivy." He puts his drink down and swivels my barstool so I'm facing him and holds both my hands. "I'm sorry.
 
I really am. If I could stop it, believe me, I would. It was rude of her to say that shit."

"Especially in front of your girlfriend." I let out a laugh.

"Why is that funny?"

"Why is
what
funny?"

"Why were you laughing just now?"

"Because you told her I'm your girlfriend."

"You ARE my girlfriend."

My heart flutters in my chest but I try to remain unaffected. "Didn't you hear Lana just now? Jake Wheeler doesn't have girlfriends."

"I do now." His eyes are on mine, an intense gaze, like he's trying to convince me that he means it. When I don't respond, he says, "Are you saying you don't want that?"

"I um...I don't know," I say, being completely honest. Because the thing is, as much as I'd like to be his girlfriend, I'm afraid of being hurt again. My feelings for Jake after dating him for just a week are already deeper than the feelings I had for Ryker, who I dated for almost a year.

"Why don't you know?" he asks.

I glance around the room. "I don't want this happening every time we go out."

"Shit," he mutters, shaking his head. "I knew coming here was a mistake."

"It's not just here. It's everywhere. Even if girls don't come up to you, they're always watching you, checking you out. I feel like we're under a giant spotlight."

He lets go of my hands and stands up. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"We're getting out of here. We never should've come here. I knew this was a bad idea." He helps me off the stool.

"But we haven't even danced yet."

"We can dance some other time. Now come on." He takes my hand and practically drags me out of the club. He keeps going until we reach his SUV. Then he leans me against it and takes my face in his hands and kisses me. My body relaxes at the feel of his lips, his tongue tangling with mine, his warm body pressed against me.

He pulls back just slightly, his eyes on mine, and says, "I like you, Ivy, so damn much that I can't stop thinking about you. I didn't even notice any of the other girls in there tonight. All I wanted to do was look at you. I've never spent this much time with a girl and yet I feel like the time we spend together is never enough." He drops his head and takes a breath, then raises his eyes back to mine. "I know we haven't defined what this is, what we're doing here, but I obviously consider you my girlfriend because I said it to Lana without even thinking about it. And it didn't seem strange, or odd, or too soon. It seemed right, like that's what you are. You're my girlfriend, Ivy. At least, that's what I want you to be."

My heart is beating hard and fast. It started with that incredible and unexpected kiss, and beat even harder just now as he said all that. All the doubts I had about him quickly fade away as I realize that he's not just giving me a line. Telling me what I want to hear in the hopes that I'll sleep him. He's really serious. He wants a relationship. With me.

I'm not sure what to say. I want the same thing, but I'm not ready to express my feelings as openly as he just did, so instead I make a joke.

"If I agree to this," I say, "are you going to make me do all your tile work from here on out?"

He laughs. "Shit yeah. You're better than any of the guys I've hired. And a hell of a lot better looking."

"I guess I wouldn't mind helping out again. I actually had fun doing it."

"Fuck." He smiles.

"What?"

"You're fucking perfect, you know that?" He wraps his arms around me and kisses me again, and we keep it going, despite the fact that it's cold outside and people keep walking past us.

We eventually make it into his SUV and head over to his apartment. I didn't suggest going to mine because I want to see his place. If he's my boyfriend, I should know where he lives.

My boyfriend.
It's strange to even think that. A week ago I was determined to get him to leave me alone and now I'm his girlfriend.

"So this is it," Jake says, leading me into his apartment. It's in an old warehouse that's been converted into lofts. The walls are red brick and the ceiling is open, showing the exposed pipes. "What do you think?"

"I like it." I try to sound enthusiastic but my mood is brought down by the fact that I've already seen this place when I caught a glimpse of that sorority girl's phone as she showed her friends the photos she took of Jake's apartment. Today is Saturday, which means she was here one week ago today. She was in this apartment, having sex with Jake.

"What's wrong?" he asks, sensing my shift in mood. I've noticed he does that a lot. He's able to read me and know when something's wrong, even when I try to hide it. The only other person who's able to do that is Liza. I'm usually really good at hiding my emotions, so the fact that Jake can read me the way he does kind of scares me. It's just proof that there's more going on between us than I'm ready for. I don't want a serious relationship. A boyfriend, yes, but I don't want to find the person I'm meant to be with at the age of 23. That's too young. That person needs to come along when I'm 30, maybe older.

What am I saying? I'm not meant to be with Jake. He's just able to read me. That's it. It doesn't mean anything.

"Nothing's wrong," I say, trying my best to convince him.

He leads me over to his leather couch which is across from a thick, dark wood coffee table. I like his furniture. It's very masculine and it all goes together and looks good. He has great style. The same is true for how he dresses, from his clothes to his shoes to his watch. It's all perfectly put together. Add in his tall muscular body, that chiseled jawline, those deep blue eyes, and that confident, somewhat cocky attitude, and it's no wonder he has girls falling all over him.

"I told you to be honest with me," he says, facing me on the couch.

"I'm fine. Really." I turn my head toward the giant flat-screen TV hanging on the wall. "You want to watch TV?"

"Ivy." He lifts his hand to the side of my face, guiding my gaze back to his. "Tell me what's bothering you. Everything was fine on the way over here and then you got here and now you seem distant, and a little mad."

He read me exactly right. That's exactly how I'm feeling. Damn, how does he do that?

"It's just that uh..." I look down at the couch. "Last week...last Saturday...that girl was here."

I hear him exhale. "That's what this is about?"

I raise my eyes and see the frustration on his face.

"Ivy, I'm sorry. I know this bothers you, but I can't change what happened before we started going out."

"I know. And I totally get that. But walking in here tonight, I was just reminded of what she said and those photos she had of your place and I just...it pisses me off to think of her here with you."

His mouth creeps up into a smile. "So the thought of other girls with me pisses you off."

I huff. "Well, yeah. Obviously. Why wouldn't it?"

"I knew it annoyed you, but I thought it was because you looked down on the fact that I used to sleep around. Not because you actually like me."

He knows I like him. Why would he even say that? Does he not believe it?

I roll my eyes. "Of course I like you. Why else would I still be dating you?"

He smiles even more. "Because I'm nice to look at?"

I laugh. "Yeah, you're right. That's it. I keep you around for the eye candy. And you make a great accessory when I'm going out, better than some lame scarf or a pair of earrings. I draw a lot more attention with you on my arm."

He draws me closer, his hand now behind my neck, his mouth by my ear. "That's not why you're still dating me." His lips graze over my earlobe and a shiver shoots through me, my pulse quickening.

"Then why am I dating you?" I ask, my voice soft, my eyes closed and my head dropping to the side as his lips brush over my ear.

"Because we can't get enough of each other. And you know it. You feel it." He skims his lips down my neck, then back up to my ear. "There's this draw that we have to each other," he says in a low deep voice. "It's more than just physical. It's something else. Something about you, about us. It's been there since the day I met you. I felt it, and I know you did too."

He's right. I just wouldn't admit it to myself. From the moment I saw Jake, I felt something for him. I told myself it was just a physical attraction, but deep down, I knew it was more than that. But I also knew about his reputation so shoved away any feelings I had for him, determined to never get involved with him.

I swallow. "You don't know that."

"Then deny it." He purposely remains at my ear, because he knows from my heavy breathing how much it arouses me. But he's also doing it because he knows I won't admit the truth if he's looking me in the eye. He knows me so well it's almost irritating.

When I don't answer him, he says, "Don't fight this, Ivy. Don't fight how you feel. I know you want to, but don't."

I slowly nod, my head swimming in thoughts I can't decipher right now because my body is consumed with heat and desire.

"Tell me you want this," he says, his warm breath tickling my ear. I assume he means sex but then he says, "Tell me you'll give us a chance."

"I will," I whisper. "I'm willing to try."

He trails kisses down my neck. "I want to touch you so bad," he says, his voice low, his breathing heavy.

"Then do it," I whisper.

He lifts his head and looks at me. "I'm trying to take this slow. Not be the old Jake. I don't want..." He exhales a breath. "I want it to be different with you."

I smile a little. "That doesn't mean you can't touch me."

Jake is so used to touching leading to sex that I think he forgot that it's possible to do more than kiss without actually having sex.

"Then I need you to tell me when it's too much. I'll stop. I promise."

He's being so sweet about this, so caring, that I actually
would
have sex with him tonight if my head wasn't so messed up. It's too soon to go there, given how I felt about him just a week ago, and given that last Saturday, he was with someone else. I quickly put that thought out of my head and focus on the here and now, and the feel of Jake's lips moving over mine.

We continue to kiss as he gently lies me down on the couch. I turn toward him as he lies beside me, nudging my legs apart and sliding his leg between them. He tugs loose the tie at the bottom of my shirt, then gets to work on the buttons, in an even-paced, skillful manner that I find to be very sexy. It seems like everything Jake does is sexy. The way he walks, his voice, his facial expressions, the way he says things. The man oozes sex, so being this close to him, our bodies touching...I want to tear his clothes off and do what I told myself I wouldn't do.

His hand slips under my shirt, around my waist, and I suck in a breath at how good it feels. His hand is warm, strong, and feels huge as his long fingers curl around my back, pulling me closer as his kiss goes deeper, his tongue moving in my mouth in a rhythm that's suggestive of what my body is now begging me to let him do. His hand skims up my ribcage to my breast, cupping it, his thumb dipping into the top of my bra, shoving the fabric down to expose my nipple. I moan as his thumb moves over it, and hear him groan in response, the sound reverberating through my chest. I arch my back and his hand immediately goes behind me, flicking open the clasp of my bra. I push him back and sit up enough to take it off, along with my shirt, and see his eyes drift over me.

"Shit," he says, his tone dripping with desire. "You have a navel ring."

I smile. "You like those?"

"Yeah." He eyes it. "Too fucking much."

He lowers me down on my back and his mouth covers my breast, licking and sucking and driving me wild. His hand is splayed out over my stomach, his thumb circling my belly ring, erupting a flurry of sensations between my thighs.

I moan again and hear Jake say, "Fuck. You have no idea what that does to me. That sound...shit."