Yours Truly Page 8

  “Oh, Josh. You’re not going to want us all in there, in your space. I mean, your apartment isn’t any bigger than mine.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of fiancé would I be if I didn’t open my apartment to my future wife and in-laws?”

  “Oh, shit. I forgot.” I glanced at his closed apartment door. “I’m so sorry about this. God, I forced this on you and now you’re stuck with—”

  “Will? Would you shut up, please? I like George and Grace. And I find you mostly tolerable, so don’t worry about it.” He laughed as I smacked his shoulder.

  “My parents are going home tomorrow, so I’ll—”

  He turned and folded me into a hug, cutting off my words. Oh my god, it felt good. I melted against him. You would have, too—don’t judge.

  “You are welcome to stay with me as long as you need to,” he said. “Until your apartment is fixed. If you’d rather stay with one of your friends, go for it. But this way you’re still right here. Either way, the offer stands.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “Seriously. We’re friends, Will. You’d do the same for me, right?”

  Would I? Yes. Of course, I would.

  I nodded mutely, and followed him into his apartment.

  My parents were already tucking themselves in—they’d been sleeping when the ceiling had poured itself all over my living room. They looked tired, but happy.

  Happy?

  “It’s just so nice that Josh is right here to help, isn’t it?” my mom said, beaming at us. “He really is the best thing to ever happen to you, Willow.”

  My dad patted my mom’s hand. “We don’t have to worry about you at all anymore, sweetheart.”

  “Now,” my mom said, pulling the covers up to her shoulders, “don’t let us keep you two up.” She nodded toward Josh’s bedroom. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  My parents both said goodnight, but I was too busy staring at the bedroom door to respond.

  I couldn’t go sleep in there with him.

  “Maybe I should stay out here,” I said, grabbing a blanket and laying it on the floor. “Just in case you two need anything.”

  “If you lay there, we’ll just trip over you when we get up in the night.” My dad laughed. “Will, we are old enough to know that you two sleep together. After all, you are both consenting adults.”

  “DAD!” Heat rushed to my face for the eleventieth time that day. Could I blush ANY MORE often? But, come on, my father talking about my sex life? Nooo. Not something I was on board with.

  “I’m just saying you don’t have to put on a show for us,” he said, snuggling down next to my mom. He waved us away. “Go enjoy yourselves. Pretend we’re not even here. And we’ll do the same.”

  Josh burst out laughing.

  “OH MY GOD, DAD,” I said. “Will you stop already?”

  “We better do as he says.” Josh grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward his room. “He is your father, after all.”

  There wasn’t anything I could do but follow along. Because it was my fault we were in this situation anyway.

  See what happens when you lie, kids? It comes back to bite you in the ass.

  As soon as Josh closed the door behind me, I felt nervous, awkward.

  The room was tiny, like mine, and his bed took up most of the space. Framed in heavy wood with these gorgeous inlaid designs, it looked ENORMOUS. Who needs that big of a bed? I was trying to imagine how he even got it in here—anything to keep my mind off the fact that we’d be sleeping in it together.

  “You like the right side or the left?” he said, walking over to his dresser while he pulled off his shirt.

  I clamped my hand over my eyes, and turned around. “JOSH. I’m standing RIGHT HERE.”

  “And, what? You’ve never seen a guy without his shirt? Get over it, Will. You’re an adult. You can handle it.” He laughed. “Besides, it’s not like I’m whipping out my tool belt.”

  “Oh, yeah? And why not?”

  “I like to save that for the second date, at least. Plus, I left it at the workshop…”

  I rolled my eyes, though it’s not like he could see me since my back was still turned. And, YES, I was an adult. Which I proved by turning around again and peeking at him through my fingers.

  His sun-kissed skin looked smooth as it dipped and curved over the muscles of his torso. God, he was beautiful. I don’t think I’d ever realized how much.

  I splayed my fingers wide to better appreciate him.

  He was built—years of working with wood had been good to him, but it was more than that. Clearly he worked out, and damn, but if it wasn’t working for him. And for me, to be honest. No wonder he always had a girl.

  He caught me peeking through my fingers. “See?” he said, “You’re handling it just fine—you have yet to burst into flames.”

  I pulled my hands away from my face, laughing, and rolled my eyes. “Well, you’d have to be HOT for that to happen.” My voice sounded nonchalant, but I was feverishly burning this image of him into my brain so I could take it out and enjoy it later. Because the only thing keeping me from bursting into flames at that moment was the preponderance of drool oozing from my every pore.

  “So, right or left? Do you have a preference?”

  Reluctantly ripping my gaze away, I glanced at the bed again, and panic washed over me like cold shower.

  “I can just sleep on the floor…”

  “Will.” He shook his head, a grin on his face. “You may be small, but you’re not THAT small. There is not enough room for you to sleep on the floor…even if I would let you,” he said. “Which I wouldn’t.”

  “But…” I walked toward his dresser to check out the floor space there and on the far side of the bed. He was right. “I just…I don’t want to put you out.”

  “You’re not. I like the left. You okay with the right?”

  “Sure,” I said, not feeling okay AT ALL about any of this, but not really having any other options.

  Just as I was about to sit on the bed, he said, “Wait!” Then he threw a t-shirt at me. “Your clothes are soaked. Wear this tonight, and we’ll get your clothes in the morning when your apartment isn’t so much like oceanside property.”

  I held up the shirt in front of me. Short-sleeved and crimson, it said HARVARD in big white letters across the chest. And it would have been perfect except I had this habit of not wearing underwear.

  Ever.

  And tonight was no exception.

  Of course, I could go back to my apartment to get my own pajamas, but that would mean disturbing my parents AND wading back through the waters of destruction. I wasn’t sure I was up for that. Plus he’d given me his shirt, which was sweet and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings after everything he’d done.

  “Uh…” I started to speak, but then realized there was nothing I could say that wouldn’t be embarrassing. Like I wanted to tell him I was going commando? That would be a NO.

  Besides, what if he took that as an invitation?

  Yes, he was gorgeous. Yes, he was single. YES, I’d been horny for DAYS.

  But NO. It was JOSH.

  “Problem?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. No problems here.” Except, YEP. Big problem here. “Would you, um, turn your back please?”

  He sat down on the other side of the bed, his back to me. I made sure there wasn’t a mirror on his side before I tugged off my wet shirt and pulled his dry one over my head. It did feel really good, the soft, dry cotton sliding over my skin, the clean laundry smell wafting over me. I undid my bra before it could get the shirt wet, and slipped it through one sleeve. Then I pulled my phone out of my pocket and slid off my soaked jeans, letting them drop to the floor.

  Air hit my lady parts and I pulled the shirt down as low as it would go. Floor-length wouldn’t have felt long enough.

  Shit.

  Tucking the shirt under my butt, I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed to text The Girls. Josh slid under the covers, and I co
uldn’t, for the life of me, even spare a glance in his direction, couldn’t muster the chutzpah to meet his eyes when I was wearing only his t-shirt and nothing else.

  ME: The day has gone from bad to worse. Am spending the night at Josh’s.

  HARMONY: How is that worse? He’s adorable. RAWR.

  BLISS: SERIOUSLY.

  ME: My apartment was a scene from The Perfect Storm and had a couple inches of water in it when I left.

  EVER: Oh, no! How bad is it?

  ME: Honestly, I don’t know. It looks awful, but I’ll find out tomorrow. I can’t even think about all my stuff.

  SUMMER: But you’re staying with Josh? Happy ending!

  HARMONY: Right?

  ME: NO. I have to sleep in his bed because my parents think we’re engaged. Remember?

  SUMMER: I don’t see the problem.

  ME: I’m wearing HIS t-shirt and NO panties. I’m practically wearing a sign that says FUCK ME NOW, JOSH.

  SUMMER: Yeah. STILL not seeing a problem…

  ME: Summer!

  LUCKY: I knew that commando thing was eventually going to bite you in the bare ass. At the very least you should always carry a pair in your purse.

  BLISS: For an underwear emergency??

  EVER: The only time I carry panties in my purse is when I’ve taken them OFF.

  LUCKY: I’m just SAYING. It would have helped her tonight.

  ME: You think I brought a purse with me? Across the hall? Have you MET me?

  HARMONY: She has a point, Lucky.

  ME: What am I going to do, you guys?

  EVER: Adam and Eve it.

  LUCKY: Let him clean your pipes.

  ME: OMG STOP.

  HARMONY: Get your chimney swept out.

  BLISS: Make ends meet.

  SUMMER: Or, you know, you could just fuck his brains out. ;-)

  ME: You guys suck, you know that?

  BLISS: We love you, too, Will! Have fun tonight! XOXOXO

  I tossed my phone onto the bedside table, and took a deep breath. Then I very carefully lifted the covers and got in the bed. As I slid down the sheets, the shirt slid up. So I lifted my hips, grabbed the hem, and yanked it down again.

  There was no way I was going to be able to sleep in the same bed with him knowing there was a possibility my bare ass could come into contact with any part of his body. My eyes stung because everything was overwhelming me and what I really needed was to just sleep, but I knew this would keep me awake all night lon—

  “Would you be more comfortable with a pair of boxers, too?”

  I almost wept in relief. I nodded, my throat too thick to speak.

  He got up, pulled out a clean pair, and handed them to me. “They’ll be a little big on you.”

  “They’re perfect.” I choked out the words, then pulled the shorts under the covers, shoved my feet through them and hoisted them up. Thank god. Unbelievable how a simple pair of underwear could make all the difference.

  “You know,” he said as he got back into the bed, keeping to his side, “you could have just asked. Anything you need, I’m here. Got it?”

  I nodded, turning on my side to face him. He lay with one arm on top of the covers, the other tucked under his head as he looked at me. He didn’t make any move to touch me, and I finally felt myself relax.

  But I couldn’t help thinking It’s kinda hot to be wearing his boxers.

  God, I needed to get laid. And I needed to keep my mind off his underwear. Hell, I could focus, instead, on the fact that he was being so freaking nice.

  “Thank you. Again,” I said. “I can’t tell you how much—”

  “You just did.” He smiled sleepily at me. “And you’re welcome. I do really like your parents, by the way. Your dad is hysterical.”

  “Oh yeah, he’s a real hoot.” I laughed. “I cannot believe he said that.” I covered my face with my hands, feeling my face redden again. God.

  “He loves you.”

  Sighing, I pulled my hands away. “Yeah, he does.” My dad had always been my strongest supporter, my biggest fan. He’d always believed that I could do anything I wanted to do. “Me, too.”

  “I can see that. It’s nice. Seems like so many people don’t like their parents, or are indifferent. I’ve never understood that.”

  “Me neither. My parents are two of my favorite people on the planet. They always have been.”

  We were silent for a few moments, and my mind drifted back up to the roof tonight. Part of me wanted to just ignore what had almost happened between us, but the other part of me knew it would just eat at me if I didn’t make sure we were on the same page. I couldn’t bear to have some misunderstanding come between us, especially something that could be cleared up with a few words right now.

  “Um…about earlier?” I said. “I may have been a little…out of sorts.”

  “And right now?”

  “I’m a LOT out of sorts.” I pulled the covers up to my chin. “But in a really REALLY different way.”

  He stared at me, then nodded. “Well, it’s not like you could help it—I am pretty irresistible in the moonlight.”

  “Yeah, THAT must have been it.” I laughed, tension easing out a little more, my body starting to sink heavier into the mattress. “But see,” I said, waving my hand at the dim room, “no more moonlight. Plus, you’re not wearing your tool belt…”

  “Yeah.” He stretched his arms above his head, yawned, then closed his eyes. “Don’t you just hate it when that happens?”

  Nodding, I rolled over, keeping to the edge of the bed to leave as much room between us as possible. “It’s the worst,” I said. “But what are you gonna do?”

  He didn’t respond, and I listened as his breathing become deep and slow. Relief washed over me because everything was fine between us. I hadn’t screwed anything up, and that thought alone was enough to let me breathe easy again. Sleep pulled at my limbs, dragging me down deeper into his bed, even as my mind replayed that moment up on the roof over and over again.

  Sure, it was resolved, nothing to worry about. And yet I couldn’t help but wonder…what if our lips had met?

  A part of me felt a little sad that they hadn’t.

  Or maybe more than a little.

  eleven

  My computer.

  No matter how long I stared at it, my computer wasn’t becoming any less ruined.

  I glanced around the room at the wasteland of my apartment and my eyes settled on the bookshelves. Of course they’d been directly underneath the deluge.

  Oh god. My books. And my desk.

  I hadn’t even thought about it last night. Where had my brain been? I mean, seriously. What had I been thinking? The least I could have done was rescue the books and move the desk and computer to safety. Yes, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything. Everything had gotten soaked from the start, but STILL.

  Who doesn’t, at the very minimum, move her computer? Especially when her work DEPENDS on it. And she’s pretty sure the last time she ran backup was over a year ago. God, why hadn’t I learned to save my files to the cloud like every other sensible person my age?

  Tears were running down my face and I was fighting to keep the panic from swallowing me whole. My life was in this room, and right at the moment my life was looking completely ruined.

  My parents had left about twenty minutes ago, after offers to stay and help, lots of bear hugs and promises to keep me updated. My dad had gotten an appointment with the cardiologist in Boston on Monday and I was not about to let him help clean up my mess when he couldn’t even climb a flight of stairs.

  There had also been WAY too many congratulations and welcomes to Josh, which had frankly started grating on my nerves.

  When my dad had finally said, “Take care of my girl,” and Josh had responded “I will, sir,” as he shook my dad’s hand, I’d just about blown a gasket, wanting to shout, “I CAN ACTUALLY TAKE CARE OF MYSELF, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”

  But instead, I’d taken a deep breath and forced
a smile. They meant well. All three of them. Josh was just responding the way guys ALWAYS did.

  And my dad was…well, he was my dad. He worried. If this made him feel better, then I could play along.

  Even if it was killing me inside.

  Of course, it had the unfortunate side effect of making me kick my independence up a notch.

  Which was why I’d brushed Josh off when he’d offered to come help me sort through the mess in here. It was MY mess, and I could handle it.

  My mess. My life.

  I didn’t need a man.

  Okay, I was wrong. I needed a man and I needed him badly.

  And apparently, the man I needed was named Darius.

  “What can I help you with, Miss?”

  My eyes flicked up from his nametag, and he smiled pleasantly until I pulled my dead laptop out of my bag. A couple of water droplets splotched onto the glass countertop as I gingerly put it down.

  “I have a bit of a problem.”

  He nodded. “I’ll say.” He glanced at my bag. “Any chance you backed everything up on an external hard drive?”

  “Would I be here if there was?”

  “Point taken.” He took a deep breath. “Well Miss, I’m not sure—”

  “My LIFE is on this machine.” I pressed my palm on the top of it and more water squished out while I fought the rising panic at the resigned look on his face. “I’m a writer and my columns, my notes, the book I’m working on…EVERYTHING is on this. Please. You’ve GOT to help me.” I took a deep breath, willing my eyes to stay dry. I was NOT going to cry. I could freaking handle this.

  My FREAKING mess. My FREAKING life.

  Shit.

  Deep FREAKING breaths.

  “What did you… How did this…uh…happen?”

  “My apartment got Titanicked.”

  “Duuuude.” He whistled low. “That sucks.”

  “Tell me about it. But also PLEASE tell me you can save my files.”

  He looked at me, then slowly exhaled. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises.” He lifted it up, shaking his head at the water puddling out of the computer and onto the countertop. “Give me a week. This thing needs to completely dry out before I’ll be able to do anything with it. In the meantime, get yourself a new machine because this one is toast. If I can get anything off it, I’ll transfer the files onto your new one when you come back in.”