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His reaction is like a bucket of cold water being poured over my head and honestly, I’m thankful for the wake up. Of course he was only kidding. This is how Ant is. He jokes and flirts. It’s just his thing. I was foolish to think he meant something by it. I’m not even sure if I really wanted him to. It’s like my mind and body are on two completely different pages. Hell, I think they always have been.
“Is it my turn again?” I blurt, needing to move on from the heaviness that seems to have settled over us.
“Still mine.” He grins like he knows what I’m thinking, and that thought is a little more than unsettling.
The waitress returns with my fourth beer, and from there the conversation lightens significantly. We talk about school, football, and how much Ant loved playing college ball. He was always so talented. Between him and Sebastian, our high school team was nearly unstoppable. He went on to play for Boston College while Sebastian played for LSU. Neither pursued it professionally though both probably could have.
I tell him about night school and how I just completed my final exams last week for my degree in social work and should be receiving my diploma in the mail sometime this month. It’s been a long, hard climb and one I know I never would’ve been able to do without the support of my grandparents and the drive to be more for my son.
I’ve been waitressing on the weekends for nearly three years now and working as an aide during the week at the local pre-school down the road from my apartment. It’s nothing glamorous, but it’s gotten me through school and given me the ability to provide a home for me and Jackson; though I’m sure my grandparents would’ve been fine letting me live with them forever. I tell Anthony all of this, along with how excited I am to hopefully, one day soon, be able to use my degree and just have one full-time job where I can work a more consistent schedule.
Before long, the evening has turned to night, and after probably a few too many beers, we finally decide it’s time to head to my apartment. Thankfully it’s just a two-block walk from here, precisely why I picked this location.
When we step out onto the street, the crisp air clears my clouded mind a bit. Not enough to make me walk any straighter or laugh any less, but enough that I feel like I have at least a small grasp on my self-control. Or, at least, I think I do until I stumble over a dip in the sidewalk and find myself face planting right into Anthony’s hard chest just as he turns toward me.
I’m still laughing when I pull back, too consumed by the buzz of the alcohol to feel even remotely embarrassed, but my laughter quickly dies on my lips when my eyes meet Anthony’s. The air quickly shifts around us, and I can physically feel the weight pressing down on me as his eyes dart to my lips and stay there for what feels like minutes.
My tongue nervously jets out, running across my bottom lip, and Ant watches me do it like it’s the most intoxicating thing he’s ever seen. I’m a swarm of emotions. Want. Need. Fear. Excitement. Dread. It all blends together leaving me feeling untethered to the ground below my feet.
“Ant,” I say, pressing my hands to his chest as I reclaim my footing.
As if that breaks the trance, he instantly straightens and clears his throat. “Walk much?” he quips, reaching out to sweep a strand of hair from my face. His fingers linger on the tips for a long moment before he finally drops it over my shoulder. “I liked the red,” he says, referring to the red bob I always sported in high school. “But this is much more you.” He takes in the long, dark strands that fall around my face before finally meeting my gaze again.
“I like the clean shaved pretty boy look, but this is much more you.” I smile, reaching up to scratch across his scruffy jaw before running my hand through his messy locks.
“What do you say we get you home?” He smiles, tucking my hand in his as he pulls me up alongside him.
“Well, maybe we should turn around then,” I say, stopping to really take in my surroundings. “Because I’m fairly certain we’re going the wrong way.” I glance backward before finally adding, “Yep, definitely going the wrong way.”
“Dear god, woman, how drunk are you?” Ant teases, knocking his hip against mine as he swivels us in the other direction, not once letting go of my hand. I try to ignore the rush of butterflies that swarm my stomach when he links our fingers together, but their presence is undeniable.
I can’t explain it, how such an innocent touch can drive me to feel the things I’m currently feeling. I’ve had men buried deep inside me and never felt half of what holding Ant’s hand makes me feel. Maybe it’s the forbidden, the fact that I know I can’t act on it. Or maybe it’s the gentleness of the gesture, a sweetness I’m not used to experiencing in this type of situation.
If Ant were any other man, I’d have probably already let him take me against the bathroom stall inside the bar. I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s true. Not that I do things like that often—I rarely even go out—but when I do find myself out with a member of the opposite sex, I always know exactly where the night will end.
I take it for what it is. I’m not willing to offer them something that I can’t give, so I give them what I can and take what I need from them in return. Sure, I’ve had men who have wanted more, but since Jackson was born no one has felt right. I guess because it’s not about just me anymore.
But Ant… In some weird way, I could totally see the dynamic. I shake off the thought before it has time to take root. I know it has everything to do with the fact that this man is tied to my past, to a girl I thought I had left in Connecticut that I’m now learning is still very much a part of me. But even knowing that, it’s still hard for me to compartmentalize those feelings.
I glance up at the side of Ant’s face, still taken aback by just how good looking he is. He catches me staring out of the corner of his eye and a slow smile pulls up the side of his mouth.
“You’re checking me out again, Bree,” he says cockily.
“I am not, nor have I at any point been checking you out.” I object, looking at him like he has five heads.
“Uh, huh.” He gives me a knowing smirk. “This was fun,” he says, eyes focused forward.
“It was,” I agree, letting go of the thoughts that have plagued me all night, forcing myself to focus on how good it feels to kind of feel like me again. I just wish I knew if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Maybe Tess and Sebastian working out their bullshit isn’t such a bad thing for me after all,” he adds after a long moment.
“And why’s that?” I ask, once again peering up at the side of his face.
“You’re a hell of a lot prettier to look at than he is.”
“Planning on staying a while, are we?”
“That depends, are you offering?” He finally looks down, meeting my gaze for a long moment before flipping forward again.
“I could be persuaded to help a friend out.” I shrug.
“Persuaded how?” He slows to a stop just feet from the front of my apartment building.
“Well, I guess that depends.” I step into him, slowly running my fingers down his chest, getting the exact reaction from him I want before quickly adding, “How good are your baking skills?” I purr seductively.
This pulls a full, deep laugh from his chest, the sound echoing all around us.
“What?” I step back, fishing my keys out of my purse. “You can get me to agree to a lot with baked goods. Just saying.” I cock one shoulder before turning and disappearing into my building, leaving Anthony outside on the sidewalk, his laughter chasing after me long after the door snaps closed.
