Not Just Another Romance Novel Page 9

  “Ready to take me home?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want to go, either. But maybe I need to. Maybe we need some space, some time to cool down.”

  “Or maybe you stay here tonight. No first date sex. Then I take you home in the morning.”

  The thought of the luxurious bed wrapped in Dax’s arms was too tempting to resist. Our eyes met for a few heated beats, and then I said, “Okay,” my voice small.

  His lips tipped up in a soft smile. “Okay?”

  I nodded, and he picked up his head and pressed his lips to mine again. It was soft and tender, filled with restrained longing.

  I got up and went back to the comfy chair and my wine. He sat on the floor with his beer. We both avoided looking at the bed, dodging the temptation it represented.

  But part of me loved that he liked me so much that he didn’t want to bang me. He respected me, and that was pretty damn special in my book.

  12

  “Oh, fuck!” I yelled much louder than I intended to.

  Dax’s sleepy eyes opened slowly and focused in on my face. I had to look like a disaster, but he looked as hot in the morning as he had the night before.

  Life wasn’t fair sometimes.

  I probably had mascara smeared under my eyes. My hair had to be a ratty mess. And a shirt that proclaimed “Drink ‘til You Want Me” covered my body.

  After we’d both finished our drinks the night before, we laughed and talked and cuddled in his gloriously comfortable bed much later than we should have. Dax’s hands kept tempting me, kept moving to places they really shouldn’t given our pact to avoid sex on the first date. But his lips on my neck almost talked me right out of that pact.

  We’d eventually fallen asleep, and in my semi-wine-drunk state, I’d forgotten to set an alarm.

  The incessant buzzing of my cell phone woke me up. I checked the clock on Dax’s night table.

  I only had fifteen minutes to get to my Statistics midterm exam.

  “Fuck!” I yelled again, this time jumping out of bed and grabbing my dress off of the floor. I pulled Dax’s shirt off and threw the dress on. I ran to my purse and checked my phone. I felt Dax’s eyes on me the entire time. Clearly he didn’t notice my urgency.

  I had a missed call and a text, both from Scott. Did you see the email Dr. Harris sent last night? Bring your study guide to the exam for extra credit. See you soon.

  Shit. Shit shit shit.

  There was no way I would have to have time to stop by my apartment to get my study guide and get to the test on time.

  Fuck.

  “Everything okay?” Dax stretched sleepily. Thank God he’d worn a shirt (proclaiming he was “God’s Gift to Women”) and shorts to bed, because if I had to watch his body stretch, those muscles pulsing, I was pretty sure I would’ve missed my test.

  I dug through my purse for my car keys.

  “No. I have a test in fifteen minutes.”

  “Is it in your purse?” he asked.

  I glared up at him. “I’m looking for my car keys.” I kept finding my apartment key, but not my car keys.

  He stood up and stretched lazily again. I couldn’t help stealing a look of his abdomen peeking out from under his t-shirt when his arms went up over his head. It was just a preview, but God, those muscles. He was just this ridiculously perfect specimen of the male gender.

  “I picked you up, sweets.”

  I shot him a nasty look. He had this teasing grin on his face, and half of me wanted to slap him while the other half of me wanted to hop back into bed and just say, “Fuck the test.”

  He held up both hands in mock surrender at my look. “I’ll take you. Give me thirty seconds.”

  He disappeared out his door. I paced his bedroom, not exactly sure what to do while I watched the clock inch closer to test time.

  True to his word, he reappeared in less than thirty seconds, and he grabbed his car keys off of his dresser. “Ready?”

  I nodded and followed him down to his car. I really had to pee, but I didn’t have time.

  He drove fast—probably faster than I would have, but I appreciated his effort to get me to my test on time.

  “What class is your test in?” he asked, making conversation while I stared at the clock in his dashboard.

  I checked the little mirror in the visor. I definitely had mascara in places it shouldn’t have been. I did my best to touch up my make-up while Dax drove, and then I popped in a piece of gum.

  “Advanced Statistics in Psychology.”

  “Are you ready for it?”

  “Don’t have much choice at this point. I have a friend who tutored me, and he thinks I’m ready.”

  I swore I saw his eyes narrow when I identified my friend as a “he,” but it was possible I saw what I wanted to see.

  “I have a statistics question for you. Think of it as a little extra test prep.”

  “Go for it.” I appreciated his effort at calming me down, because I was pretty much a frazzled mess.

  “What are the odds you’re free tonight around midnight?”

  I giggled. “Well, based on the samplings taken last night, I’d conclude there is a one-to-one chance I’m free.” Midnight sounded late to me, but I’d take a nap. I’d drink extra coffee. I’d have an energy drink.

  Anything to spend more time with the rock god.

  “Seems like pretty good odds to me.”

  He pulled onto campus and I directed him to the front of the Psych building.

  I grabbed the door handle, ready to bid a hasty goodbye over my shoulder, when I felt his hand on my arm.

  “Hey,” he said, still clearly unhurried despite his efforts to get me to class on time.

  I turned back toward him.

  “You’ve got two minutes,” he said, and then he leaned in and kissed me.

  It wasn’t just a kiss, though.

  It wasn’t just a man’s lips moving over a woman’s.

  It was a promise of more. It was a confession of feelings, a passionate plea that resonated in my chest.

  He pulled back, and I stopped for just a second to catch my breath as I took in his visual perfection. “Good luck on your test, sweets.” His voice came out all breathy and raspy and God I just wanted to recline my seat and let him take me in his very sexy car.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, and then I exited the car and headed into the Psych building.

  I slid into the open seat next to Scott. I felt his eyes on me, but I stared ahead at Dr. Harris as embarrassment flooded me.

  I hadn’t stopped to think that Scott had seen me at Starbucks before I had left for my date the night before. And now we were sitting next to each other, and I was wearing the same dress I’d been wearing when I had run into him.

  It was definitely too dressy for a class. Obviously I’d just come from my date and I hadn’t had time to even do the walk of shame to stop home first.

  A sheet of paper slid onto my desk from Scott’s direction. I glanced down at it, and then my head whipped over toward him.

  Our eyes met.

  Goddammit.

  His eyes were so blue behind those black frames. His blue shirt somehow made his eyes brighter.

  And meanwhile I was still wearing the same clothes I’d been wearing the night before.

  “I found it in my binder,” he whispered.

  My study guide, in all its completed, vivid glory, sat on my desk in front of me. I must’ve left it with him after our last study session.

  Scott saved the day. And my ass.

  “Thank you,” I whispered back to him, and then Dr. Harris collected our study guides and passed out our exam materials.

  The whole time, the exact blue shade of Scott’s eyes danced through my mind.

  When questions about bivariates came up, I knew the answers immediately. A few questions required basic mathematics skills, but apart from those, I was solid in my knowledge. I was confident despite the rocky start to
my morning, and I knew I’d done well.

  Scott finished before me, and we were free to leave when we were done. I knew he’d be waiting for me out in front of the big palm tree, and I was excited to dissect the test with him.

  I marched my test up to Dr. Harris, pleased with myself and glad I wasn’t the last one to finish, ran to the restroom, and headed outside.

  I walked to the palm tree, but Scott wasn’t there. I glanced around, thinking maybe he’d gone off to get some coffee after the test. Disappointment washed over me as I sat under the tree and waited a while.

  I really just wanted to go home and take a shower and a nap before my next class.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I smiled. “How do you think you—” I turned around and my sentence stopped short.

  A set of beautiful blue eyes met mine, but they weren’t Scott’s.

  Dax smiled as he handed me a cup of coffee. “I wasn’t sure how you take it, but I figured you’d need some after your test.”

  My mouth opened, but words failed to come out of it.

  He’d waited around for me?

  And he’d brought me coffee?

  Not only was he visually stunning, but he was sweet and kind and thoughtful, too.

  I was in real trouble with this one.

  He helped me up from the ground, and his fingers linked through mine loosely as they had the night before. We walked together back toward my apartment, less than a ten minute walk from the Psych building.

  I caught the jealous stares coming my way. Dax was wearing the same “God’s Gift to Women” shirt and shorts he’d slept in, but he looked fresh and gorgeous. I slipped on my sunglasses to try to hide the mortification I felt from walking around in a date dress mid-morning, but Dax didn’t seem to notice. Or he didn’t care.

  I wished I had the same carefree attitude.

  We arrived at my apartment. “Come on in,” I said after I unlocked the door. He followed me in and shut the door behind me as I set my purse on my counter.

  “What’s your plan for the day?” he asked.

  “Well, a shower and a nap were on my tentative to-do list before my next class.” I kicked off my shoes.

  “When’s that?”

  “Noon.”

  He glanced at the clock on my stove as disappointment crossed his features. “Okay. I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Stay. I’ve got a little time.” It felt like our date from the night before was still going on. I didn’t want it to end.

  He stood by the door. “It’s okay. I’ve got practice at two, and then I need to get ready for this hot date I’ve got after my gig tonight.”

  “Where are you playing?” I asked.

  “Emerson’s at ten. Come by if you’re free. It’ll save us time if you’re already there when the show’s over.”

  “I’d love to see you perform again.” My voice was shy. A wide smile took over his face, and he took a step toward me.

  “I have another confession,” he said, and then he took another step toward me. He laced his arms around my waist. “That first night Austin brought you to Emerson’s, I couldn’t stop staring at you. You’re so…different from everyone else.”

  “Different?” I asked, not sure if that was a compliment.

  “Distinct.” His head lowered a bit toward mine. “Unique.” A little more. He was inches from my lips. “Extraordinary.” I could feel his breath against my mouth. “Good. Really fucking good.”

  And then his lips were on mine again.

  I fucking loved everything about kissing him.

  His hands always moved with this desperation, digging into my hips like he was trying to restrain himself from throwing me on the ground and mounting me. But his mouth told a different story. His mouth was always soft and tender and slow.

  I could kiss him for hours. Forever.

  He pulled away, a glinting gleam in his eye that told me he wanted more than just my mouth.

  “I better go.”

  It was my turn to look disappointed, and he chuckled. I didn’t hide it as well as he did.

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  He strode out the door and shut it behind him, leaving me a quivering mass of desire in my entryway.

  I walked over to my couch and collapsed, trying to regain my composure and my wits that he so easily and thoroughly managed to scatter.

  I woke with a start an hour later, feeling groggy and knowing I needed a shower before my next class. A glance at the clock told me I had about a half hour, so I took a quick one, threw on a little bit of make-up and some sweats, grabbed a granola bar and a yogurt, and headed to class with wet hair.

  Austin, Shannon, and Scott were already there when I plopped into my usual seat. I wanted to ask Scott where he’d disappeared to after the test, but I didn’t get the chance.

  “So?” Shannon asked expectantly, her eyes wide and excited. “Tell me all about the rock star date!”

  Scott looked away, and Austin laughed.

  “It was good,” I smiled, flipping my notebook open to a clean page as I thought about what that word meant to Dax. “Really good.”

  “Tell me every single detail,” Shannon said, setting her elbow on the table and putting her hand under her chin to rest. She looked at me with dreamy eyes, as if she wanted to hear the entire story in order to live vicariously through me. I laughed at her display.

  “He took me to dinner. We walked around for a little bit. That’s about it.”

  “That’s it? Did you kiss? Spend the night?”

  “Jesus, Shannon,” Austin said, shooting her a look.

  I merely grinned, thereby answering her question. Our professor started his lecture on behavioral neurology, effectively ending our conversation.

  We had another test scheduled for the following Thursday in Clinical Psychology, so after class we went to the library to start our study session.

  We’d just sat down and got situated when Shannon started in with the inquisition again. “Is he a good kisser? His lips are so perfect.”

  “Yes, he is. Very good.” I didn’t elaborate.

  “And you spent the night?”

  Scott stood. “Be right back,” he said, and he headed over toward the soda machine.

  I nodded, and Austin cast me a sharp look. “It’s not what you’re thinking, though. Nothing happened.”

  “Nothing?” Shannon sounded disappointed.

  “Well, not nothing. I mean, I am human. But we didn’t, um, have sex.”

  “Are you going out with him again?” she asked.

  “He wants to hang out after he plays Emerson’s tonight.”

  “Let’s go! Can we go? Do you want to go?”

  I laughed at Shannon. She seemed almost as excited as I was.

  I nodded. “I’d love to go.”

  “Go where?” Scott asked, sitting down with a bottle of iced tea.

  “To see MFB tonight at Emerson’s. You in?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Maybe?

  It was so non-committal. He usually jumped at the chance to go out, to listen to music, to do something on a Friday night.

  I thought again that something was bothering him, but if he wanted to talk about it, he would.

  Shannon started grilling Austin about the other members of MFB, hoping to procure her own rock star.

  “How did you do on the test?” I asked Scott.

  “I thought it was easy.”

  “Think grades are posted yet?”

  He shook his head. “I just checked a little while ago.”

  “I looked for you by the tree after class.” My voice was quiet. I’d been kind of hurt he hadn’t been around, but then Dax had shown up and I’d pretty much forgotten about it.

  “I didn’t know how long you’d be, so I figured we’d catch up later.”

  I nodded. It was a weak explanation. He always waited.

  His predictability was one of the things I appreciated most about our friends
hip.

  *

  I took a longer nap after our study session, knowing it would be a late night. I finished reading my book, one about a girl who fell for her best friend.

  Turns out she found her happy ending with the best friend’s brother. Didn’t see that one coming. I didn’t even think Scott had a brother.

  I glanced through my tattered list of potential leading men. I didn’t really have much of a desire to continue my project after meeting Dax. The other men couldn’t possibly measure up.

  But I had to continue my research. I had a paper to write, and I still needed to know how these book stereotypes affected real relationships.

  I had just pulled up a dominant/submissive page on Facebook when I heard a knock at my door. I closed the window quickly and headed over to answer it.

  Shannon stood there with a big smile on her face.

  “Guess what!” She bounced with excitement as she bounded into my apartment.

  “What?”

  She collapsed on my couch with a grin. “You all thought my idea was dumb, but I found some motorcycle boys who were wearing these matching vests and I followed them. They led me right to their club.”

  “Oh my God, Shannon. Do you realize how dangerous that could have been?”

  She made a face at me. “Zero danger. I didn’t go in. I just followed them to see where they went.”

  “What if they drove to Nevada?”

  “Then I would’ve followed them to Nevada, I guess. I don’t know. I would’ve turned around eventually.”

  I laughed. She was such an airhead sometimes.

  “Anyway, I thought the two of us could drive back so you could find your biker boy. We could bring Scotty or Austin if you want some protection. And maybe I’ll find a biker boy of my own.”

  I didn’t doubt she would. She was gorgeous, and I found it interesting she didn’t have a boyfriend. My psychological analysis of her told me it stemmed from the lack of a strong male presence in her life. She compensated with attention from boys, negative or positive. It seemed like she was almost always dating someone new, but we’d never really sat down for a long chat about why.

  “When were you thinking we could run this little experiment?” I decided not to commit until I had more details.

  “Tomorrow or Sunday.”