“You don’t know that. I have, and it’s bad. Take me or leave me, but I’m not doing this bitchfest with you anymore.”
He studies me, trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth. When he decides I am, he seems impressed. “Kerry Hill, you hooker, you. Did you cheat on someone? Hook up with a married man?”
Part of that is technically true. I shrug. “Rebound guy.”
He flinches. “I told you to stay away from him. You nailed him?”
I hide my face and feel squeamish. “Maybe, and then I kissed you. Beth went nuts, and here we are.”
“I kissed you, so you didn’t cheat.”
“I didn’t push you away.”
He doesn’t refute my statement or smile. It’s a fact neither of us wants to touch, lying between us like a carcass smeared on the pavement. Josh kicks the toe of his Italian loafers at the clay, moving a rock with the point of the shoe. “Is it serious? With him?”
Glancing away, I shrug and confess, “I don’t know what I want.”
His head bobs up and down like he understands. “I hear you.”
“Do you?” I’ve got my feet planted in front of him and wonder what I’m saying. He’s going to think I want to be with him. Maybe I do, a little. Maybe I want to know what being with Josh would be li
ke mainly so I can figure out what the hell I feel for Nate. That makes me a little insane. I should know how I feel, but I don’t. Since I got here, my life has been in a tailspin. Everything I thought I knew went flying out the window, and I'm still riding out the turbulence. The post-impact aftershocks have me acting like a PTSD victim. I walked away from a full crash and burn without a mark. Guilt lingers within me, making me feel directionless, like I don’t know fact from fiction anymore. I wouldn’t recognize love if it bit me on the ass. I’m so turned around and strung out I just want it to stop and settle down. I want to see who I am and what I want out of life, out of a man.
Josh watches me carefully and then lowers his eyes. “We have the same problem, don’t we?”
I’m mute for a moment, then swallow hard, trying to suppress everything that just flashed across my face. I fold my arms across my chest and inhale deeply, releasing the air in a slow, steady stream. “What’s that?”
“Neither one of us trusts ourselves anymore. You can’t tell how you feel, and I can’t promise I’ll stop.” He presses his lips together and then holds out a hand to me. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” I slip my palm into his.
“We’re going to figure out how to get past this. I trust you, and, for some inexplicable reason, you trust me. Plus I know you can handle yourself, you’re hot, and you have mace.”
I yank my hand away, stopping on the sidewalk. Gaping at him, I ask, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“What? Do you need an invitation? Yes, I’m saying let's get naked and see what happens. Either way, we’ll both have answers to the questions that have us respectively freaked out. Do you have a better idea?”
I shake my head and glance nervously to the side.
Josh remains a step away. His gaze is cautious, almost as if he regrets making the offer, but it's too late now. His words hang between us like a shopping cart full of frozen monkeys precariously poised on a high-wire, ready to fall. No one could ignore something like that. He swallows hard and spits out the question. “So, this thing—the offer.” He gestures between us. “Are you in or out?”
I hesitate for a moment then grin. “That’s what she said. For the record, you don't want a girl asking you that.”
Josh barks out a laugh, and we head to his car. I blow off my last class of the day to see how I really feel about things. He opens my door, and I slip inside.
CHAPTER 8
Josh is unusually quiet. When we pull up in front of a posh hotel, I follow him inside as the valet takes his sporty car. Nerves bubble up from my stomach, and I don’t know what to do with my hands. I shove them in my pockets and look around the lobby. The expansive marble floors are dotted with large pillars stretching up to the top of the cavernous room. Ornate leaves and other foliage line the ceiling in skillfully carved Romanesque scrollwork, forming intricate designs. My heart thumps like a flat tire, and I swear it’s going to spring out of my chest and run away screaming. It’s not fear, but what is it?
I slip my gaze over Josh’s back, admiring the shape of his body, the way his broad shoulders meet with his trim waist and narrow hips. The curve of his ass is alluring, but the attractive part of Josh is more his personality than anything else. The guy runs on full power all the time, so when he’s demure, it unnerves me. Seriousness isn’t one of his qualities. A chill slips over me, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. I rub them away, thinking about what it will be like to be with Josh.
There’s an attraction between us. It's been there since day one, but I was serious when I said he wasn’t my type. Josh is loud, while I prefer quiet, shy guys. But if this man is the opposite of everything I want in a guy, why am I here? I swallow hard, thinking about the things I’ve done with Nate, the way my body melts into his. If I can do that with Josh, then the things I did with Nate were because of me. Maybe I found my sexual freedom with Nate. Or perhaps it’s more than that, and my ease with the professor has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him? What if I fell for him? Is this really the best way to tell?
Falling for Nate is the stupidest thing I could have possibly done. There’s no future there, no way we can have any kind of relationship. Since I never wanted to pair off and walk hand in hand into the sunset, I worry about it. Nate wants more from me, but when he finds out about Josh—that we did this—I’ve passed the point of no return.
It doesn’t matter anyway. Whatever is between Nate and me will vanish as soon as I get him to sign over his house. There’s no way to come back from that. Nate will regret that decision every day for the rest of his life. It wouldn’t surprise me if he took all that money to use against the fracking company.
Josh turns to me and tips his head to the side, indicating I should follow him. He holds a hand out for me, and I walk over to him, slipping my palm in his. My stomach fills with turbulent waves of emotion. It’s too complex for me to separate excitement from foreboding, so I don’t try.