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I Want It That Way
I Want It That Way
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I Want It That Way

Now I just had to wait and see if he’d pass or play.

CHAPTER FIVE

Music throbbed from the speakers, vibrating the floor. Saturday night our apartment was crammed with people, standing room only. Max seemed pleased, and Angus was mellow, making out with his boyfriend, Josh, up against the kitchen counter. Josh was a tall, lean guy of Puerto Rican descent with black hair and melting brown eyes. He caught me looking and smirked over Angus’s shoulder.

“Perv,” he mouthed.

Lauren nudged me with a grin, pointing out one of Max’s friends. She smelled like she’d been drinking for a while, but her balance was fine. “What do you think?”

“He’s all right. You didn’t invite fine arts guy?”

“Hell, no. He was mad boring.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going in.”

Really, it was amazing how much she’d changed. In junior high and early high school, she was a complete computer geek with a paralyzing crush on my older brother. But after our sophomore year, she gave herself a complete makeover, personality and everything. Looking at her, nobody would ever guess that she used to be shy. She navigated the crowd wearing a bright smile and tapped her target on the shoulder. The guy’s name was Gabe or Garth, something beginning with G, and by the way he leaned in for a kiss ten minutes later, he was into her. Watching him squeeze my best friend’s ass was oddly hypnotic. Shaking my head, I turned away to grab a beer from the metal ice bucket in the corner.

Four hours ago, we weren’t remotely ready to host anything, but then Max roared up—on his working bike—along with five friends, and things came together fast. Between coolers, buckets, booze and multiple bags of ice, it started to look like a party. Girls wandered in later, each bearing chips or dip or a snack plate. It was amazing how Max got women he’d slept with to do this kind of thing. But whatever the magic, he had the apartment ready to rock by eight.

I, on the other hand, would be lucky to manage a side-to-side sway. To feign party spirit, I downed half my beer and joined a game of Kings Cup. The others were already pretty hammered, so it was easy to avoid losing by answering the questions right, and when the “all girls drink” came around, I sipped my beer. There was no way I was getting sloppy smashed.

“You look superserious,” Josh said in my ear.

I glanced over my shoulder and found Angus on my other side. I smiled up at them, pitching my voice to be heard over the music. “If I get distracted, I could be forced to drink that.” With a grimace, I pointed at the unholy cocktail in the center of the table.

Angus shook his head. “Then this would be forever known as the night Nadia got her stomach pumped.”

“You’re a wise man, Angus Starr.”

“Come on. This is disgusting.” Josh pulled me away from the game.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s better in your bedroom,” Angus said.

I smirked. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.”

“You’d have a dollar.” Josh was sharper than Angus, more prone to incisive comments that could cut you to the bone; he laughingly called this tactic the queen’s razor.

“True.”

Dipping my head in mock-chagrin, I followed them down the hall and found ten people sitting on my floor in a circle. Nobody was humping on my bed yet, but the night was young, give it time. I shot Angus a curious look, but Josh was already asking them to make room for us. If this was another drinking game, I might hide in my closet for the rest of the night. Or...I could go to the library.

“Courtney is bending spoons with her mind,” a girl named Emily said.

“Sure she is.”

A big-eyed blonde spoke up. “No, seriously, watch. It will blow your mind.”

Belatedly I sniffed the air. No wonder. It reeked of weed in here, so Courtney could be cheating like crazy and these people were so baked they’d never notice.

I whispered to Josh, “Is it that time of night already?”

“Mess with the stoned people? You know it.”

“Are you ready?” Courtney asked. “I’m only doing this one more time.”

She threw me a wink; I stifled a laugh. With a dramatic flourish, she pressed a metal spoon to her forehead and slowly the bottom began to twist outward. The way she was holding it, you’d have to be sober and paying attention to catch how she was pressing with one finger. The tokers let out a collective gasp.

“See, what’d I tell you.” Emily tried to nudge me and almost fell over.

“That was truly amazing.”

Courtney stood, took a bow then said, “Now pony up. Twenty bucks, you dipshits.”

Wonder what the bet was. Crumpled singles made their way to her, and she counted them before throwing up both arms to make a rock-star exit. She shoved a path down the crowded hall to pounce Max with a deep, sexy kiss. Apparently, conning high people made her horny.

“Our turn!” Josh said.

I had no idea what was about to happen, but this was definitely better than Kings Cup. While Josh could be puckish, he was never cruel. He went on to explain the rules of the game, which he was calling Suckface Trivia. I could tell by their hazy expressions that he’d already lost them, but most of them were grinning like they didn’t care about being let in on the joke.

“I’ll simplify,” Angus put in. “If you answer the question correctly, you get to kiss whoever you want that’s playing the game. If you get it wrong, you kiss the person immediately to your left.”

Simple enough.

Though it might be slightly heartless, I couldn’t wait to hear the questions. This should be hilarious. Josh kicked the game off by pointing at the big-eyed, blonde girl. “At what temperature does water boil?”

“Um. Celsius or Fahrenheit?”

“Either,” Angus said. “In the spirit of being fair to our neighbors to the north.”

She thought for a few seconds, then said, “I dunno.”

It didn’t seem to bother her that she was sitting next to a girl, the one named Emily. In fact, they kissed for a good, long minute, sort of lazy and sensual. Huh. If they keep this up, there will totally be an orgy on my bedroom floor.

“You see how it’s done,” Josh said.

“Uh-huh.” Half the guys in the room now looked even more glazed.

I whispered to Angus, “I don’t think it’s gonna pan out the way Josh expected. Unless he’s trying to start a sex pile?”

Two easy questions followed—and each got it wrong—so there was more random kissing. In fact, two straight guys got so into it that the first pushed the other down onto the floor. I watched them together, hands digging into shoulders, breathing hard. My skin prickled, but I’d be lying if I claimed I wasn’t squirming a bit. This felt slightly indecent, but nobody was making these people play the game.

Angus smiled faintly. “Trust me, this is exactly what he had in mind. He’s devilish.”

“Next question.” Josh turned to me. “Your turn.”

I doubted he could stump me since I hadn’t smoked anything, and it was tough to cloud your brain with a single beer. “Go for it.”

“What’s the capital of Illinois?”

Springfield.

Now I had to decide if I wanted to play it safe—and give the wrong answer—which meant kissing Angus. If I answered right, I could get in on the real action. As I glanced around the circle, I noticed a couple of the guys were cute, if burning at low brain wattage. I could pick someone up for the night. There was no question I was in the mood, but...

There’s nobody here I want.

“Cairo,” I said deliberately.

Josh narrowed his eyes. “You cow. You just want to kiss my boyfriend.”

“Who doesn’t? Have you seen him?” I grinned teasingly. “But hey, it’s your game, J-Rod. I didn’t make the rules.”

Angus turned his head, offering his mouth, but I pecked beside it, instead. Smiling, he slung an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me briefly then let go. The guys from two turns back were getting hot and heavy, probably more than even Josh could’ve predicted. I got up and wandered out before I ended up watching somebody get lucky in my room before I did.

Outside, the rest of the apartment was just wall-to-wall people. I didn’t realize I’d made the decision to bail until I grabbed my purse and keys. No plan, I just couldn’t stand the noise for another second. I much preferred attending parties to hosting them. In that scenario, if I got sick of the bullshit, I could always come home. Navigating through the crush, I got out the front door and down the steps before I heard someone come after me.

Crap. I thought that was a clean getaway.

“Where’re you going?” Lauren asked.

“Out. But don’t let me ruin your night.”

“You sure you’re okay?” She surveyed me with a concerned look.

“Positive. Look out for the sex show Josh is running in our bedroom, by the way.” As expected, that drove her back inside without another word.

The music had my head aching. Really, I just wanted to find a quiet place and...what? I had no idea. Before I could make up my mind where to go, Ty’s door opened, and he stepped into the hall. After last night when I all but offered myself naked on a platter, I half suspected he’d shut it again when he spotted me, but instead he gave me a half smile, ducking his head with a bashful air. Tentatively, I smiled back.

“You want to come in? When Sam has his SleepPhones on, he rarely wakes, unless I forget to set the music to loop. Tonight I remembered.”

This was so momentous, and I couldn’t stop smiling. This had to be my karmic reward for not making out with a random stoned guy. “That would be great. I was about to flee.”

Ty gestured at his place. “You can hide out with me until things settle down.”

“Thanks.” I brushed by. From the clean smell of him and his damp hair, I guessed he’d just gotten out of the shower.

Inside, his apartment looked much nicer than ours, decorated with a quirky charm that immediately made me feel at home. The basic floor plan was the same with a galley-style kitchen visible on entry, the front door opening into a combination living and dining room, where there was also a breakfast bar. He had three rustic, leather-topped stools set up plus a small wooden bistro table. The space had very little glass, probably because of Sam, and I loved the padded red L-shaped sectional. A geometric-patterned area rug covered the worn beige carpet, and he had an antique steamer trunk in the middle instead of a coffee table, very cool; it was wood, covered in leather and bound in bronze. The walls were adorned with an interesting combination of pen-and-ink cityscapes and some really colorful abstract art. On closer examination, I was pretty sure Ty had framed both his own work and Sam’s. Overall it was impressively tidy, and I said so.

“The auntie Sam mentioned is my mom’s older sister, and she’s always cleaning when she’s here,” he said sheepishly. “But she needs knee surgery, and she won’t be up to chasing after him for a long while, if ever.”

“So that’s why you asked about day care.”

“Yeah. Do you want something to drink?” He spoke softly, though he’d said Sam wasn’t likely to wake up.

And if he did, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Surely Ty had friends over occasionally.

“Tea?” I suggested.

“I don’t have orange Ceylon spice, but I can offer chai or honey lemon.”

“Honey lemon sounds good. My nerves could use some soothing. If we had stairs, they’d definitely be diving down them.”

“Let’s hope they don’t take the party into the hall and follow in your footsteps.” The teasing glance as he put two mugs of water in the microwave sent heat straight to my cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah, I fought the steps and the steps won.”

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right there.”

“Sure.” After I sat down, I couldn’t resist the cream chenille throw draped over the back of the couch. I snuggled up in it, listening to the music booming from my apartment and the constant thumping overhead. “Sounds like they’re coming through the ceiling, huh?”

“It’s about what I expected when I saw college students were moving in.”

“Spoken as if you aren’t one,” I said, slightly defensive.

Ty leveled a long look at me as the microwave beeped. “Are you really planning to argue that my circumstances are the same as yours?”

“I guess not.” I felt young and stupid now, the first time he’d made me feel that way.

The silence thickened until I almost got up to leave. Then he said, “Sorry. I’m a little...sensitive. People are always telling me to get out, live while I’m young. Like it’s that easy.”

I took the mug he handed me and played sink the tea bag with the spoon for a few seconds. “It’s okay. How about a deal? I won’t bother you about having more fun, if you don’t bug me to try out for women’s basketball.”

“I’m enjoying myself now,” he said. “And pestering people really isn’t my thing.”

He sank down on the other end of the couch. It was too noisy for us to watch anything, and we didn’t need more music. That left talking, and I was totally okay with that.

“Me, too. So you said something about SleepPhones before. Is that different from normal headphones?”

“Yeah, it’s a headband with speakers in it. Much more comfortable to sleep in.”

“That sounds cool, actually. Maybe I need that. What music does Sam fall asleep listening to?” I asked.

“You’ll laugh.”

“Maybe. Tell me, anyway.”

“He might be the world’s smallest One Direction fan.”

It took all of my self-control, but I didn’t let out a peep, though my eyes watered. “You know that’s insanely cute, right?”

“I think so.”

“What about you? Your favorite bands?” I congratulated myself on acting normal, like I hadn’t basically told Ty last night that he was everything I wanted for Christmas. The fact that he hadn’t made use of that opening told me everything I needed to know about his intentions.

Friends it is.

“Right now I’m into Grouplove, Tove Lo, Passenger, The National and Speedy Ortiz.”

“Would you think I’m superlame if I admit I’ve only heard of one of those?”

“Passenger,” he guessed.

I nodded. “He toured with Ed Sheeran. I have a friend who saw their show. She said it was amazing.”

He sipped his tea, seeming pensive. “That’s one thing I miss.”

“What?”

“Concerts. And going to clubs in the city to check out a new indie group.” At my expression, which was probably something like well, you can still go, he added, “I know what you’re thinking. When my parents have Sam, I could still see a concert or hit up a club.”

I pretended to peer at him suspiciously. “You didn’t tell me you were psychic.”

“It’s complicated,” he muttered.

“Enlighten me. The party’s still going strong, so I have nothing but time.”

“The people I started college with have graduated, gotten jobs and moved away. The guys at work are all a lot older, and they’re not interested in hanging out after hours.”

“Make new friends,” I suggested.

“Most people aren’t interested in getting to know someone who can’t be spontaneous, who’s on a completely fixed schedule and may be a grumpy asshole on any given day.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Yeah, well. You’re...unique.”

Is that a compliment? It could go either way. I decided it didn’t matter; I’d already settled on friendship. Still, I can’t believe I’m suggesting this.

“We could see a concert sometime—on your off weekend. If you plan for it, you could nap on Saturday afternoon and be primed for revelry that night.”

“Maybe,” he said.

To cover my disappointment, I lowered my head and stared into my mug. The tea was a lovely shade of amber; if it steeped any longer it would be too strong, so I fished the bag out with my spoon, wrapped the string around the handle and set it on the steamer trunk. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Tonight wasn’t working out like I’d hoped, and the first achy burn of tears stung at the back of my throat.

“God. This face, you show me everything. I hope you don’t play poker. They’d rob you blind.” His voice was disturbingly gentle, tender even, and closer than I expected.

While I was looking everywhere but at him, Ty slid closer, his hand hovering in the air between us. From this distance I could feel the overwhelming warmth of him, and I wanted his touch more than my next breath. So I held it, fighting ridiculous, uncharacteristic tears, until his palm settled on my cheek.

“What—” I started to say, but I had no idea where I was going with that sentence.

“I’m going to be straight with you...because this dance is killing me. Don’t imagine for a second that I don’t want you. Your legs keep me up at night, and those eyes... You know when I first saw you, I thought you were probably a model?”

I laughed shakily. “Really?”

Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

“If you were wondering, the answer is yes. I want to fuck you so bad it hurts.”

The breath whooshed right out of me, and all the tingles centered low. “I like where this is going.”

“It’s a problem,” he said frankly. “Because I really like you. And I don’t date. I don’t bring girls home to Sam.”

“But...he’s already met me,” I said foolishly.

“That’s why I can’t sleep with you. We’re friends. We have to be. Because you live in my building, because you’re smart, funny, and I like you, and you work at Rainbow Academy. If we hook up and it doesn’t work out, it’ll change how we are together, and that would hurt Sam. Is any of this making sense?”

To be honest, I was still fixed on him saying he wanted to fuck me so much it hurt. I let that longing wash over me for a moment, then I nodded, his palm sliding with a seductive rasp against my cheek. “I understand, that all makes sense. But it doesn’t explain why you’ve been staring at my mouth for the last five minutes.”

Deep in his throat, Ty made a sound that curled my toes, and then, as if he couldn’t help it, he brought his other hand up to frame my face.

CHAPTER SIX

As Ty gazed at me, his nostrils flared and his breath came faster. His brown eyes had a sleepy, hooded look. I knew he wanted to kiss me, despite all the sound reasons he’d just listed why it could never happen.

“There are no rules against it,” he said huskily.

What? Looking.

It was really hard to think with his face so close, but I couldn’t make myself pull back. So I did the only reasonable thing; I put my arms around him. When I leaned into him, he let go of my face and cradled me against his chest. His heat and solid strength sent a delicious shock through me, and he didn’t help matters by rubbing his cheek against my head.

It’s a hug. Friends hug.

There was no way I could resist touching his hair, now that I finally had him so close, and it slipped through my fingers like coppery satin. He let out a little groan and leaned into my hands. Encouraged, I stroked in gentle little swoops, until he was practically purring.

“You’re a ginger tabby,” I teased as he turned, so I could reach the other side.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I’m totally a battle-scarred tom.”

He nuzzled his face against my neck, making my pulse jump. This was a misty gray area because he was definitely turning me on with the rasp of his scruff against the tender skin of my throat. But his heartbeat was slowing. Getting comfortable, I kicked off my shoes, and Ty, who wasn’t wearing any, ended up sprawled in my lap, and he closed his eyes as I brushed the hair from his brow in rhythmic strokes.

“Whatever.” I couldn’t believe I was in his apartment, cuddling him.

It wasn’t what I wanted but it was better than nothing. It would have to be enough. “This okay?” I asked, just to be sure.

“Better than. Don’t stop.”

Featherlight, I traced the slight arch of his nose, the plane of his cheekbone down to his jaw, around his mouth and over the bristled jut of his chin, which he lifted to give me better access. Eyes closed, he was smiling with an expression that registered as pure bliss. I’d swear he was starved for physical contact, let alone sex.

“Can I ask a personal question?”

“This is probably the best time.” Dreamy tone.

“How long’s it been?”

His gold-tipped lashes fluttered, revealing brown eyes that focused intently on my face. “Since I got laid?”

“Yeah.”

“Couple of months.”

That wasn’t as long as I expected, the way he was reacting. “Huh.”

“Did you think I’ve been celibate for years or something?”

“Maybe.”

“Disappointed?”

“Why would I be?” I smiled down at him.

“Sometimes girls romanticize the situation. ‘Poor Ty, if only he had a woman giving it to him regular and helping with Sam, his life wouldn’t be such a black hole of suck.’” He lifted one shoulder in a lazy half shrug and demanded, “Ears.”

I was only half-sure what he wanted, so I rubbed up and down the shell, gently, with thumb and forefinger. “Like that?”

He hissed out a breath when I scraped my fingernails behind them. “Exactly.”

It might be wrong, but I secretly hoped this was turning him on a fraction as much as me. Even the weight of his head in my lap felt like foreplay, but I didn’t roll my hips. Ears are sensitive. Wonder what lips, teeth and tongue would do to him. I swallowed hard and went back to running my fingers through his hair. It seemed safer. The party was still going strong, and it was only eleven. I might have several good hours of Ty-petting left.

“I hope you don’t think I see you that way,” I said.

“Hmm?”

“The ‘black hole of suck’ thing.”

“Nah. You don’t give off the fix Ty vibe. If you did, I’d be avoiding you like the plague, not hanging out on a Saturday night.” He sounded relaxed, sleepy even. “Though I have no idea what’s in it for you.”

“I like you,” I said softly.

You have no idea how much.

“You’re crazy. Didn’t you hear the grumpy asshole part earlier?”

“Maybe you save that for other people.” I decided to get creative and scooped my hands beneath his head, like I’d seen masseuses do on TV. Since I had no training, I couldn’t be sure what I was supposed to be doing, but I flexed my palms and rubbed the heels of my hands against the base of his skull. Ty arched his neck, lifting his chin until I heard a faint pop.

He groaned. “God. You’re so good, I’d pay you.”

“First I’m a barbiturate and now—”

“You really should’ve hit me by now.” Ty flung an arm across his face, cheeks flushed.

“I’ll snuggle you into submission.”

“It’s working.”

“What else do you miss? Besides the music scene.”

He turned his head side to side, increasing the pressure until I was worried about hurting him, and it reminded me of how he’d dug his knuckles into the back of his head. This had to be my unconscious responding to that moment, wanting to make him feel better. From the way he was smiling, it seemed to be doing the trick.

“How honest am I supposed to be?”

“Completely. I won’t tell.”

“You want me to bare my soul, huh?”

I want you to take off your pants. But I’ll settle for deep, meaningful conversation. I was only half kidding, even in my head, but Ty’s friendship felt rare and precious, a leap of faith that he didn’t offer many people. I might not be special, but he made me feel that way.

“Yep,” I said aloud.

“I miss sleeping in. I miss waking up with someone else and having time for slow, lazy morning sex.”

Oh, hello. Yes. Please. The mental images his words conjured were so very tantalizing. I pictured a sleepy, horny Ty, wrapped around me, his lips on my neck, nibbling down to my shoulder while he took me from behind, his cock working in and out with infinite patience. His hands would be all over me, stroking, caressing in counterpoint to his thrusts. We’d take hours making each other come, maybe not even getting out of bed until well into the afternoon.