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Out of nowhere, a knock pounds against my bedroom door behind me and we leap apart.
“Hey dude! Is it cool if we take your car around the block?”
I press the back of my hand to my lips to hide my laugh.
My roommates have impeccable timing.
James’ hand rests against the door beside my head and he pinches his eyes closed, obviously annoyed at being interrupted.
“I know it’s an expensive car,” Jerry says. “But you probably have some pretty good insurance, huh?”
“Go! I don’t care,” James replies, his voice booming so loud that I jump.
“Thanks man!”
The sound of receding footsteps echoes down the hall and neither one of us speaks. It feels just like the aftermath of our car crash. The pieces of the scene filter back to me slowly and then, with embarrassment, I realize I’m still gripping his shirt. I let go and step aside to put space between us.
“Don’t,” he says, turning to me.
“What?”
“Don’t do the thing where you regret what just happened.”
I laugh. “Believe me, I don’t regret that.”
He nods and pushes off the door, straightening back to his full height. “Good, because that wasn’t a mistake. I came here with clear intentions.”
A lazy grin spreads across my lips. “Of ravishing me?”
He shakes his head and steps back to assess me. “Of asking you to accompany me on a trip I need to take for work.”
“What?”
“There’s a conference in Vegas. I go every year, alone, but this year I’d like you to come with me.”
He’s making it sound extremely simple, but it’s not.
I shake my head. “It’s not a good idea. It would only make this more confusing.”
“I don’t care.”
I narrow my eyes at him, angry at having to be the responsible one all of a sudden. “Come on, James. This has been the weirdest friendship, non-friendship, relationship thing I’ve ever dealt with. Normal people go on dates. We get in car accidents and then ignore each other for weeks.”
He steps closer and I hold out my hands to block him. I need my wits about me if I’m going to make important decisions.
“Maybe I don’t know what to do with you,” he says, capturing my wrists and gently tugging me closer. “Maybe I’ve been wondering if it’s really best to leave you alone.”
His gaze falls to my lips, and I think he’s going to kiss me again.
“You shouldn’t be showing up here unexpectedly,” I say with a weak voice. “You shouldn’t be inviting me on a trip, and you definitely shouldn’t be sending me flowers!”
He grins, and it’s like I’m looking at the devil incarnate. “So they arrived?”
I nod to where they sit on my nightstand. I’ve cut them and changed the water every day. They’re in full bloom now and I know if I stepped a little closer, their fragrance would hit me in full force.
He turns to look at them, and I wonder if it’s apparent just how much care and attention I’ve given the flowers over the last few days. I’m slightly embarrassed until he glances back and says confidently, “Come to Vegas with me.”
“The last time you invited me to be your date, I didn’t like it,” I point out.
“This will be different, I promise.”
His voice sounds so earnest that I believe him. Still, I throw my last measly excuse at him. “I’d have to get off work.”
He levels me with an amused glare. “Have someone cover your shifts. If not, I’ll work it out with Brian.”
I’m annoyed that he seems to already know I’ll agree to go with him, and I’m confused about why I want to. Nothing has changed between us. Later on, when I’m alone, I’ll regret my decision, but right now, he’s crowding my space and overriding any sense I might have. My lips still tingle from our kiss, and my heart is still running a marathon.
He’s standing a few feet from me, and I’m feeling every bit of his commanding presence. Sure, he’s physically intimidating, tall and fit, but it’s more in the way he carries himself, an unspoken confidence that makes it difficult to argue with him. A few weeks ago, he said it would be best if we stayed away from each other, and I complied. Now, he’s inviting me to Vegas and I’m bending to his will without much of a fight.
That infuriates me.
But not so much that I won’t go, because then I’d be punishing myself.
I’ll concede, under one condition.
“I’ll need my own hotel room.”
It’s my only way of gaining back some semblance of control.
He barely manages to stifle a laugh. “Did I not make myself clear before? I want you to come to Vegas with me as my date.”
“Oh, so you expect me to put out?” I quip. “One kiss and now suddenly you think you’re Casanova? Maybe I need a little more time before I share a bed with you.”
