Roped In (Strings Book 2) Page 8

  “Everyone sounds good in the shower,” I said, trying to deflect his compliment because it felt like if I let that compliment in, there was no telling how much it would blur the lines.

  He finally looked at me. His eyes were dark and intense. “Not like that. Not the way you sounded. You’re really good, and it was amazing to see you perform up there. You looked so at home on that stage.”

  I felt my face warm with pleasure. “Thank you,” I said quietly. “I love being up there.”

  “Everyone can feel that,” he said with a nod.

  We looked at each other, unspoken words flowing out of us and between us—I don’t know if I can just be your friend, his eyes seemed to say. I don’t know how to stop the way I feel about you, my eyes answered back. I want you, I want this, I don’t want to see you with anyone else, and we need to get off this sidewalk before we do something that we aren’t ready to face the consequences of. Those were words from both of us.

  “I need to go,” were the words that actually came out of Jack’s mouth.

  “Okay.” Regret washed over me, and I realized I didn’t want him to go. I wasn’t ready to say goodnight. It felt like my tequila buzz had worn off completely because there was no room for tequila when I was intoxicated by Jack’s presence.

  He didn’t move despite his words.

  “What if I don’t want you to go?” I couldn’t stop the words before they came tumbling out.

  Jack’s eyes flicked to my mouth, and then he shook his head.

  “If I don’t go, I’m going to kiss you.”

  His words made my heart surge. My god, did I want him to kiss me.

  “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

  He looked at my mouth again, and I licked my lips.

  “We still want different things,” he said, eyes still on my mouth. “I don’t want to do anything that either of us might regret in the morning.” He stepped closer, and I tilted my head back slightly to look at his face. “Because if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop. And tomorrow, I’ll still want more, and it’ll kill me to see you walk away again.”

  His words gutted me. My throat and chest felt tight at the words he spoke so honestly and so bluntly. But he was right, no matter how badly I didn’t want him to be, no matter how much it made me wonder if I was making a horrible mistake.

  “So, I’m going to watch you walk up those stairs and go inside, and tomorrow we’ll be friends.”

  I nodded even though everything in my mind and body was screaming at me to protest. “Tomorrow we’ll be friends,” I repeated.

  This time it was him who walked away.

  ◆◆◆

  “So, you got home safe and—”

  “Did you and Brody have Jack and Rachel over for dinner?”

  The question had been lingering in my mind ever since Jack had left me standing at my door while I was wishing things could be different. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep until I knew the answer even though I knew I didn’t truly want to know.

  “Wh-what?”

  “Just tell me, Cat. I have to know or it’s gonna drive me nuts. Did you meet her?”

  “Talia—”

  “Catrina, please.”

  She sighed, and I knew the answer from that small noise.

  “Shit,” I whispered. “When?”

  “Look, Tal, you always said Jack wasn’t your boyfriend. And as untrue as I think that is, that’s what it was. He was engaged to her, and he’s Brody’s friend. It could’ve—” Cat abruptly stopped. “Well, it didn’t have to be that way, but that’s how it was.”

  It could’ve been you. I knew that’s what she wanted to say. It could’ve been me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “What good would that have done? All it would’ve done was hurt you. Because even though you act like you guys were just sex friends, it was more than that. And knowing we had them over for dinner would’ve killed you, and I like you alive.”

  I huffed a laugh and then groaned miserably. “What was she like?”

  Catrina paused before answering. “Uptight but nice.”

  I nodded because I knew I would get nothing else from her, and despite knowing she wouldn’t answer my next question, I asked it anyway.

  “What were they like together?”

  “Talia.”

  I sighed and rubbed a hand down my face. This was all a mess. I was a mess. “He said he wants to be friends.”

  Cat scoffed. “Well, I don’t think either of you are capable of that, but how did you respond?”

  “I thought what you just said but told him I’d give it a go anyway.”

  “Tal,” Catrina groaned.

  “I don’t know what else to do!” I laid back on my couch and propped my legs up on the back while holding my phone to my ear. “I… I’m not ready to let him go yet.” When Catrina didn’t say anything, I said, “What are you thinking?”

  “That you’re both idiots and that this is going to end in disaster,” Cat responded immediately. “I love you, but you’re being so stupid, Talia. I know what I’m about to say is going to sound really harsh, but how long do you think it’s going to take for someone else to come along? How long do you think he’s going to be your single buddy that you’re in love with even though you don’t want to be with him for real?”

  “I’m not in love with him,” I said stubbornly despite how true all her other words rang. “God, why can’t you just be like normal friends and enable me?”

  I could practically hear Catrina’s eye roll. “Because I love you way too much not to tell you when you’re screwing stuff up majorly.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Just think about that, Talia. Think about what it’s going to feel like to eventually see your friend with someone else.”

  ◆◆◆

  How’s work?

  When Jack’s text came through I grinned like an idiot.

  The day after my show, I heard nothing from Jack, and I let myself revel in that moment when he told me had to go, when he essentially told me he couldn’t control himself around me, that if he stayed he wouldn’t be able to stop. I was anxious, though, because I wanted to at least try being friends with him, but since I hadn’t heard from him I was worried he’d changed his mind, that he’d realized I wasn’t worth the trouble, that even having me around was enough of a temptation and more trouble than it was worth.

  But he’d texted me the following day with a funny gif from a show that we’d watched together back in school. We’d spent that entire day texting after that, even when I’d gone to Gia’s to work. Every free moment I got, I checked my phone and found a new text for him either continuing our conversation or starting a new one.

  I still wanted him. When our texts occasionally slipped into being flirty when we couldn’t stop ourselves, I still felt that simmer of attraction to him that I would probably never be able to turn off no matter how long we remained friends. But as the days went on and we kept at it, everything felt natural and real, and even if we flirted, I just let it happen and let the worry about what it might mean just slowly drift away. One night he’d called me while I walked home from work around midnight, and we stayed on the phone for almost three hours before either of us realized how much time had passed. We talked about everything and nothing, and when the hours passed by and his voice started to become heavier and raspier with tiredness, I didn’t let it bother me when I started to get turned on by the sound. I just let it happen because I wanted it, and we were still in relatively safe territory. I didn’t know how long that would continue to be the case, but while it was, I was just going to enjoy being able to talk to him and get to know him all over again.

  Soooooo slow, I responded to Jack’s text. I’ve been here since 11 and I’ve had one freaking table. Bored. Omg so bored.

  Lol… same here. I’ve been doing document review for the past four hours and my brain is about to leak out of my ears.

  That sounds way worse than just sitting on
a bar stool and drinking a glass of wine with Gia.

  Yeah, you think? I wish I was having wine with an old Italian woman right now.

  Oh yeah? I didn’t know you were into older women.

  Gia was currently arguing with her grandson—who was also the busboy and had just called in sick—on the phone in rapid Italian, and I almost audibly giggled at the image of Jack trying to flirt with her. I knew she’d been pretty in her youth, but now she looked… well, she looked like an old, Italian grandma who would whack you with a spatula if you said the wrong thing.

  Especially the ones that perpetually smell like garlic and pasta.

  I snorted. Sounds sexy.

  We should go on a double date. Me and Gia with you and Gia’s husband. What’s his name again?

  I sucked in my lips to stop myself from laughing. I’d told Jack days ago about Gia and Giuseppe, who bickered like younger siblings, rather than husband and wife, and how he would swat her with a towel and she would smack him over the head and swear at him in Italian.

  Giuseppe. Yeah, I’d be into that double date. Giuseppe’s hot. I’d definitely let him take me home.

  He looked like the male version of his wife—short, round, with dark gray hair that was only about an inch shorter than his wife’s short, severe cut.

  Wow. It would be an honor to be Eskimo brothers with him.

  I’d never even think about you again after I let him have me.

  I find that VERY hard to believe.

  This was the tricky territory that Jack and I often fell into. Where the conversation changed from just talking to mild flirting to maybe even beyond flirting when I started to wonder where to go next.

  Part of me wanted to push him—see how far we could both go before one of us went over that invisible line. I fuck you so good; yes, you make me scream. I wanted to see how we would go back and forth, if I could push him so far that he threw away this “just friends” experiment and realized we had a chemistry that was so off the charts that nothing could stop us from wanting each other.

  But just like all the other times when we teetered on the edge, I forced myself to remember that morning years ago when I told him I couldn’t give him what he wanted, and when I remembered the look on his face, I knew I couldn’t put either of us through that again. He wanted more, and more wasn’t something in the cards for me. Not anymore.

  Yeah, yeah, I ended up saying. How are things at the office?

  Safe. Easy. Heart still intact.

  We texted back and forth for another ten minutes before Maria, one of my coworkers and Gia’s great niece, came to tell me I had a table.

  I slipped my phone in my back pocket when Maria said, “He’s cute, too.”

  But I knew it wouldn’t matter to me if the customer was the cutest guy on earth. Unless he was Jake Gyllenhaal, I wasn’t going to be interested in flirting with a cute customer, although it wouldn’t be the first time. I’d gotten numbers from, had drinks with, and hooked up with customers more times than I wanted to admit, and even if this guy at my table was only looking for a good time, same as me, unless it was Jack, I couldn’t imagine wanting him right now.

  But want him, I did.

  Because when I looked into the green eyes on the gorgeous face of the guy sitting casually at my table in the corner of the restaurant, I became a puddle on the floor at his feet.

  Chapter 10

  “What are you doing here?” I knew I was grinning like a complete goof, but I couldn’t stop it for the life of me.

  “You said you were bored, and I wanted to see you.”

  Those words were dangerous, but I reveled in them anyway.

  Jack looked incredible in his work suit. It was dark gray with very subtle pinstripes with a crisp, white shirt underneath, and a vibrant teal tie that brought out his eyes. He looked delectable, and as I stood in front of him, my knee on the chair opposite him at his table, I couldn’t stop myself from imagining what it would feel like to run my hands under his jacket, feel his hard muscles there, rub my body all over his.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” I said with a smile. He beamed, and my knees shook.

  I took his drink and food order—an iced tea and a roast beef sandwich—and since I had no other tables, I sat across from him and tried to ignore every time when his eyes briefly fell to my bare, crossed legs.

  Gia didn’t care what we wore as long as we wore all black, so I had a couple outfits I cycled through on each of my shifts. Today I was wearing a tight, knee-length, long sleeved black dress that rode up when I sat down, allowing Jack to catch a peek. And he took full advantage. When I’d walked over to put his order in, I could feel his eyes on me, and it took every ounce of my strength not to give him a sultry look over my shoulder.

  “So, work sucks?”

  “You have no idea,” Jack replied.

  He stretched in his chair, and I stared at his bulging biceps. My mouth may have watered.

  “And to top off this amazing week, I’ve been requested for dinner at my parents’ house on Saturday evening.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked with a laugh. “‘Requested’?”

  “That’s the socialites’ way of saying ‘be there or suffer the consequences.’”

  “Wow,” I said. “That sounds lovely.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s not.”

  I brought him some bread and when I sat back down I watched him rip a piece, dip it in a pool of olive oil and then bring it to his mouth. It shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, but then when a spare drop of olive oil dripped past his lip, I watched his tongue sweep it away and felt hot all over at the movement.

  When he looked back up at me, I pretended to study a really interesting pattern on the wooden table.

  “How is it working for your dad? Bet that makes things awkward at family dinners,” I said.

  Jack shrugged. “Yeah, not really. My dad basically thinks I’m the world’s biggest fuck up, so his expectations are super low.”

  “Fuck up? You went to Klein and Harvard Law School. How can you possibly be a fuck up?”

  When Jack didn’t immediately respond, I suddenly remembered our conversation from back at the Green Hornet weeks ago.

  “Oh. Breaking off the engagement.”

  “Yeah. My mother has barely even spoken to me since then, she was so furious when she found out.”

  “Do they care at all that you weren’t happy?”

  Jack looked at me like I was insane as he chewed and swallowed another piece of bread.

  “Um, no. That’s…” He scoffed. “No.”

  “That sucks.” I felt awful for him in that moment. It was sad to think that he had parents who cared so little for him that they were more worried about their social position and how a broken engagement would look than the happiness of their own son.

  “Well, I’m hoping Julianna will come,” he said. “But she can’t stand them even more than me, so it’s going to be like pulling teeth to get her to come and bring the kids, too.” Before I could respond he said, “Anyway. Enough about my dysfunctional family. Tell me how Flora and Fauna is doing. Any new music coming out? Your fans, like me, are dying to know.”

  I felt all puffed up with pride at his question. It felt so good to know that he liked my music and was interested in hearing about it.

  “The band itself is okay. The music is getting there.”

  I saw his sandwich come up in the window, and I told him I would be right back with it. When I came back, I watched him watch me cross one leg over the other, and then he took a huge bite out of his sandwich and looked at me.

  “What’s going on with the band?” he asked with a mouth full of food.

  I shook my head. “A lot of the same old. Chuck has a serious drug problem and doesn’t really want to acknowledge it. Isaac and I have pretty much put up with it all this time, but now it’s getting to the point where it’s causing distractions. He’ll show up an hour late to rehearsal, and it’s frustrating beca
use we pay for that space. And we can’t do too much without a guitarist, you know?”

  “Have you guys tried talking to him?”

  “Isaac did once last year, and things got way better,” I explained. “But now it’s back to how it was before, possibly even worse.” I’d put so much work—blood, sweat, and tears—into this band that it terrified me to think about what would happen if we fell apart because of Chuck’s issues with drugs and alcohol. But I loved Chuck. He had been like a brother to me for five years, and if there was a way to salvage the band and also get Chuck the help he needed, then I would do everything I could to make that happen.

  “Sounds like you all need to have another talk then,” Jack said, looking like he was thinking about something. “You know, if you need a neutral third-party to be present or something, I could do that. I’m a good mediator.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think we could afford you.”

  He laughed. “No charge for friends.”

  Friends. Right.

  We talked for the rest of his meal, and even after he’d finished. I cleared his plate, refilled his water, and when he made no move to leave I asked if he wanted coffee and dessert. After he said yes with that gorgeous smile, I brought him a cannoli and some coffee. One other party had come in since Jack, but Maria took that table so I was free to continue sitting with Jack. Maria and Gia kept giving us knowing glances, but I ignored them. And when I’d gone to get Jack’s coffee, they’d both tried to bombard me with questions about who he was, but I said he was a friend and quickly got out from their clutches.

  Jack was halfway done with his cannoli when he raised up a piece and gestured to me as if asking if I wanted some. I nodded, and he moved his hand to indicate that I come closer. When I did, I opened my mouth, and he popped the piece of pastry in my mouth, his fingers brushing my lips as he did so. His eyes stared at my mouth as I licked my lips and made a small hum of satisfaction, and then he looked up so his eyes were on mine.

  Desire and lust arced between us, our eyes like pools of fire and need, and I didn’t dare look away. I still wanted him, and I wasn’t trying to hide that fact even if we were friends.