Come Together (The Cityscape 3)

“Of course. It scared me the moment we made eye contact. I was scared the first time I kissed you – I thought I’d pushed you away. It scared me that you wanted to stay with Gretchen this week instead of me. I get scared too. Who says you won’t be the one to wake up one morning and leave?”

“I won’t,” I promised.

“Trust, baby.”

“When did you get so smart?” I teased.

“One more thing.”

I swallowed nervously at the tone of his voice. “Yes?”

“I meant what I said about being alone with Bill.” He cut me off. “I know he’s not a bad guy, and I don’t feel good about his nose. But I won’t budge on this. I’m displeased that you went to see him by yourself. Especially in that dress. That was supposed to be for me, and I never want you out of my sight when you’re looking that fucking good.”

“You liked it?” I asked with faux innocence.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“You didn’t like it?” I pouted.

He sighed, and I watched surrender cross his face. “Of course I did. You were stunning. And those red lips . . . I kept imagining them wrapped around my – ”

“Room for one more?” I heard.

I jerked away from David and saw my dad sliding the back door closed. With my hand over my mouth, I raised my eyebrows at David and giggled. “Come on in, Dad,” I called before ducking under the cold water.

~

“So . . . are you dating anyone?” I asked my dad as he searched for his car keys.

“Sort of,” he muttered.

“Well, you either are or you aren’t,” I responded.

“Yes, I am, do you mind?”

I twisted my lips and winked at David. “How old is she?” I asked.

“Old enough.”

I laughed, and David raised his eyebrows. “Gina was in her twenties when they got married,” I explained. David nodded as though he found this impressive, and I rolled my eyes.

“All right,” Dad said, dangling his keys. “Last chance for grocery requests. I’m using leftovers from last night, but I have a few other things to grab.”

I shrugged. “I think we’re good.”

“K, I’ll be back soon.”

Once I heard the garage door shut, I looked at David, who was already staring at me. The space between us thickened with tension. I bit my lip, sl

unk toward him and placed my hands on his pecs. “Alone at last,” I purred.

He backed away quickly. “No.”

“What? You’re kidding.”

“I want to, trust me, but it doesn’t feel right. Not in your dad’s house.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Take me to your hotel then.”

“No,” he exclaimed. “My God, woman, control yourself. Surely we can think of something else to do for an hour.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and pouted. “What do you suggest?”

“Show me your bedroom.”

“But you just said – ”

“I just want to see it. Don’t get any ideas.”

“Okay, but it’s boring. We moved in when I was thirteen so it’s all teenage girl crap.” I motioned for him to follow me up the stairs. “He hasn’t done anything with it since I left.”

“That’s fine,” he said, and I could tell he was grinning. I opened the door, and he strolled inside with his hands in his jean pockets. He took a moment to assess the room before he said, “Looks pretty normal.”

“Were you worried it wouldn’t be?”

He chuckled. “No, not really.” He made a beeline for my bookshelf, picking up a framed photo of Gretchen and me in our high school cafeteria. We had huge, red-stained smiles plastered on our faces as we both held heart-shaped lollipops. He looked between the photo and me before shaking his head and setting it back down. “You are so fucking cute. I would have died over you in high school.”

“Doubtful,” I said.

“Are you kidding me?” He held up my prom photo. “You were a knockout.”

I cringed. “I hate that one.”

“Why?”

“I look young and awkward.”

“Hm,” he mused. “That’s not what I see at all. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“That’s John.”

“John?” he exclaimed. “Gretchen’s brother?”

“Yup.”

“I didn’t realize . . . Did you guys date?”

I shook my head. “He was home from college, and he was one of my best friends.”

“So you and John never . . .”

“No, never. He’s just a friend, but a really good one.”

“Does he want more than that?”

I let my eyes wander up to the ceiling as I thought. “I think so. But I’ve never seen him that way.”

“I like him,” David decided. “He has good taste, and he looks out for you. As long as it’s from a distance.”

He put down the photo and pulled out my yearbook, flipping through it slowly as I watched. Watching him do anything was entertaining, I was discovering.

“Just as I suspected,” he muttered, pointing to something on the page. “Best Eyes.”

“It’s stupid,” I said, waving him off.

“Is it?”

I nodded. He stared at me and I stared back, mesmerized as always. It’s as if he sees right into me . . . I cocked my head at him. “You too? Best Eyes?”

He smiled slowly. “Yeah.”