Take What You Want (3 page)

Ellen.

Dinner couldn’t be over fast enough.

Finally, his father stood up and excused himself to his study. Josh stayed to help clean up, the whole time thinking about Ellen. How she’d felt and tasted. And how he’d manage to feel her again, as soon and as often as possible.

Like an idiot, he hadn’t gotten her phone number. A half dozen possible plans for how to meet up with her again floated through his mind, but most of them were ridiculous. Showing up at her apartment, demanding to know what she thought she was doing would be too awkward, and no way in hell would it end up with him in her bed again. Pulling a
Say Anything
and playing sappy music on a boom box outside her window would be too weird.

That left him with only one real option: head back to the bar and hope she was thinking about him as much as he was thinking about her.

Humming with anticipation, he finished wiping down the counters, kissed his mom on the cheek, then retreated down the stairs to his room. He dressed more carefully than he had the night before, when going to the bar had been just a means of escape—a way to get away from his parents and all their expectations for a night. Now it was a whole lot more.

Finally, at eight o’clock, he pulled on a jacket, called a quick goodbye to his folks and took off. The entire drive over, he played out in his head how he hoped this all would go. In some scenarios, she confessed, told him she’d recognized him right off the bat but had been too afraid to be herself. In others she was just as brazen as last night. Just as sensual. In all of them, he ended up on top of her, naked and buried deep.

It wasn’t until he’d parked and opened the door that the first seed of doubt crept up. What if she wasn’t there? What if she hadn’t thought of him at all?

What if she still acted like she’d never seen him before?

With his stomach in knots, he strode into the bar and scanned the tables for a familiar fall of long, dark hair—for the face he’d know no matter which version of her decided to show up. His gaze swept over the space again, his heart falling all the while, until suddenly he froze.

God
, she looked good.

There was no doubting that the Ellen of last night was back, and in force. Her hair was swept up, leaving her long neck and the bare line of her shoulders exposed. Her top pushed her breasts together, making them look even softer and fuller than they had the night before, reminding him he hadn’t really gotten to see that part of her. He was going to, though. Tonight, he was going to.

Channeling the man that had made her scream, he made his way toward her, never shifting his gaze the entire time. Even when it became clear she was laughing, talking to the bartender, Ryan. She touched her hair as she smiled up at him.

Josh slowed. Maybe she was here to pick up someone new. He flexed his hand into a fist and forced himself to keep moving.

Three years of watching her hadn’t done him any good, and damn if he could go backward now.

She still hadn’t looked over by the time he made it to her side, so he intentionally scraped the stool across the tile as he pulled it back. At the sound, she darted her gaze up to meet his, and with his heart in his throat, he watched a dozen reactions pass over her face. Her smile faltered and her eyes grew wide.

His voice gruff, he asked, “May I?”

She looked down and her cheeks flushed. But her lips turned up into a new smile, one that was softer but more real. When she finally nodded, he felt his chest expand.

He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the chair, then grabbed his wallet and pulled out a twenty. Slapping it down on the counter, he looked up at Ryan, only to see him scowl. Josh shot him a sympathetic look but didn’t give an inch. Surely, Ryan had seen the two of them leave together the night before. He had to recognize that this was Josh’s to win or lose.

With a glower, Ryan backed away and reached for a pint glass. “Sam Adams?”

Josh was about to respond with his usual, “You know it,” but stopped himself. If Ellen was here to play, then he would play along. “Yeah, thanks,” he answered. Turning to Ellen, he asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Ellen smirked and shook her head, one eyebrow raised. “Isn’t that my line?”

All right. So at least she wasn’t going to pretend that the night before hadn’t happened.

“Not tonight.” With that, he sat down, put his foot up on the rail and leaned his elbow on the bar so his body was twisted toward her. Without glancing away, he added, “And a vodka and cranberry for the lady.”

Ryan took his money with a huff. While he worked on their drinks, Josh kept his gaze fixed on Ellen’s. If he could just look deep enough, maybe he could see
into
her. Could figure this whole charade of hers out. Only, the longer he stared at her, the less he cared. There was that same heat coming off of her, the same soft scent of something flowery and light. The same need.

He just wished he knew what it was for.

She finally looked away, pointedly directing her gaze forward, but her sly smile didn’t falter. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same.”

“How did you know?”

“That you’d be here? I didn’t.” While she pretended not to react, the corner of her mouth wavered. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger on her cheek. “But I hoped.”

Ryan set the two drinks down in front of them. When he started counting bills, Josh waved him off, telling him silently to keep the change; it was the least he could do, considering. Forcing himself to let his hand fall from her face, he reached for his beer and held it up. “Cheers?”

She chuckled and picked her drink up, brought it forward to clink against his. As she did, she met his gaze. “Cheers.”

They each took a long pull. Josh set his down and turned even further toward her. It was at this point in the night yesterday when she’d rubbed her foot against his calf, planted her hand down on his thigh. She’d been the one buying, the one driving the conversation. Or the lack thereof.

He was driving tonight, and there were plenty of things he wanted to talk about.

“So. Ellen.”

She sucked in a little breath at his use of her name, reminding him she’d never called him by his. Not last night. Not even when she’d come.

Did she know it, even?

He bit the inside of his cheek and tempered his expression. “We didn’t get to talk much yesterday.”

“No,” she answered slowly. “We didn’t.”

This time, he was the one to slide his fingertips along the naked line of her thigh. The one to shift closer. “Well, then.” Staring at her in rapt fascination, he implored, “Tell me everything about you.”

Tell me why you’re here. And what you want.

It wasn’t supposed to be a trap, but the second he asked, all the supple lines of her body went tense, her mouth closing around a laugh that sounded forced. Bringing her drink back to her lips, she sucked hard at the little straw. “There isn’t much to tell.”

He hid his disbelief the best he could.
Play along.
“Oh, I don’t believe that. You said you were a…a waitress, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s just a job.”

“All right.” Hoping to calm her, he rubbed her knee with his thumb. “Then what do you do outside of that?”

She looked at him with the strangest expression, fear and disbelief and resolve. “Are you asking me if I have
hobbies
?”

“Sure.” Was that so strange?

A giggle bubbled up in her throat, and she downed the rest of her drink. “Okay, Josh. I’m game.”

And then she started talking, going on about books and television shows. About making greeting cards and knitting.

But all Josh could hear was his name.

Right up until her eyebrow arched and the tone of her voice changed. “Oh, also,” she said, ticking the items on her list off on her fingers, “skydiving, mountain climbing and motorcycle riding.”

Um. Those weren’t exactly hobbies that went along with knitting. “Seriously?”

“Sure, why not?”

He gazed at her skeptically. “No reason. Just curious. They all seem awfully adventurous.”

“What can I say? I’m an adventurous kind of girl.” Her voice was breathy as she spoke, though, and her gaze kept darting around.

Adventurous, his ass. She was as much of a skydiver as she was a waitress. Suddenly, he wished he’d taken his Harley over instead of his car.

“Well, then, adventure girl.” He leaned in close and spoke gruffly in her ear. “Someday you’ll have to let me take you for a ride.”

Her heat lit him up like a force. Like she’d let him take her right then and there. It felt powerful. Unusual.
Good
.

He took a tiny nip at the shell of her ear before pulling away, settling more comfortably into his own chair and lifting his drink to his mouth. He could ask her to get out of here right now, could have her on her back in the center of her bed…

“And what about you?”

Her words interrupted his reverie like ice on the back of his neck. He managed not to choke on his beer as he swallowed and stammered, “What about me?”

“What’s your deal?” Her voice was still strained with arousal, but her eyes were more focused, incisive in their intensity.

He should have whisked her away while he still could. He suddenly understood all her trepidation when he’d asked her about herself. While he’d yet to say anything untrue, he’d still let her operate under a misapprehension, and a big one at that.

“Well…” Two options hovered in front of his eyes—two futures. One where he told her he was in half her classes with her and had recognized her from the start. Maybe she’d understand. She might laugh about it, glad to hear they had all the time in the world to get to know each other.

Maybe she’d throw her drink in his face.

He chose the second option. The one where he pushed to see how far this would go.

When it came to censoring his own thoughts about his life, he had plenty of experience, after all.

“Well. I grew up here. Went to high school down the street.” That was true enough. “And now I’m in college. Senior year.” He hid his grimace, squashed the sour tone that wanted to rise up whenever he mentioned it. “Pre-med.”

Her eyes lit up, and for a fraction of a second, he thought she might recognize him, or that she might come clean. Might pipe up with an enthusiastic “Me, too!” Whatever she’d been about to say caught in her throat, though, and she sat back in her chair, her mask falling over her features again. “Oh really? Where?”

He hesitated. Reached out and stroked her hand where it lay on the bar. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

But it did. He could tell from the stiffness of her features and her posture—to her, it did. Even though she was touching him, she pulled back in incremental ways. Put distance between them just as surely as he had.

And suddenly his decision about which future to choose didn’t seem so smart.

“Anyway, I’m a pretty simple guy,” he said, continuing. He needed to buy some time. If he could just get her to see him—to like him. Maybe when he told her the truth, she’d forgive him.

Or maybe she’d still throw her drink at him.

He mumbled something about liking football and video games, but she wasn’t tracking. He tilted his head and shifted to bring his gaze down level with hers. “You know what else I like?”

“What’s that?”

He nudged her chin with his fingertip, asking her to look at him. “You.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

The one corner of her mouth tilted up, and some of the blankness left her eyes. “That may be the worst line I’ve ever heard.”

“But did it work?”

“You know what?” Her smile grew even brighter, and for the first time all night, she leaned into him. Touched his chest, sending sparks across his ribs. In the most seductive tone of voice, she said, “I actually think it did.”

“You want me?” he asked.

They were in her bedroom, standing right at the foot of the bed. Both their shirts were off, his belt unbuckled, his skin on fire. Just like last night, the room was dim, lit only by a single strand of little lights. But it was all the light he needed.

They were the same words she’d thrown at him, too. God, they’d made him so hard, but he was even harder tonight.

She swallowed thickly and looked up at him. Nodded.

Something too hot to name rose up in him, and he scarcely recognized his growl. “Tell me.”

He was asking for more than he could say in words. He knew that.

“Yes.”

“Tell me you want me.”

She searched his face, shuddering, her fingers tight around his biceps. Her voice shook as she breathed out the words. “I want you.”

His throat was dry, his need too intense. “Me.”

No glint of recognition lit her eyes. No sudden understanding of who he really was. But still, she gazed right at him as she slid her hands down to grip his, then to the button on his jeans.