Try Me (5 page)

So not fair.

“Wow. You really know your way around the kitchen. I thought you were just showing off.”

“Me? Show off? Please. I’m just so naturally attractive to members of the opposite sex that it just
seems
like I’m showing off. This is all me, baby.”

“Call me ‘baby’ one more time, jerk.”

He grinned. “Anything you want,
baby
.”

She picked up a crumbled bit of bacon and threw it at him. He laughed and held his hands up, warding it off. She hated to admit it, but she’d missed this. He’d always let his playful side out around her, something he’d never let many people see. It had always made her feel special. Stupid, but true.

He met her eyes. His own were so warm, that little crease at the corners making her sigh. “I thought I was out of the active combat zone,” he said.

“I don’t think so, Addison. This is war.”

“What did I do to deserve that? Is it because of my studly charm?”

“Oh, God.” She dropped her face into her palm. “What studly charm?”

“You know you want me, baby.”

“…you pick that line up in Vegas?”

“No, I just thought I’d call you ‘baby’ one more time to see if you’d actually try to kick my ass.” He pointed his fork at her. “Eat. I didn’t get up at the asscrack of dawn to cook for you so you could ignore it.”

She laughed, but dutifully picked up her fork. “You make yourself sound like my wife or something.”

He choked on a mouthful of eggs, swallowed, and reached for his dog tags. “Uh. Yeah. I guess. So, uh…did you sleep well?”

“Honestly? Not really.” She scrunched her nose and picked up a piece of bacon to nibble at it. “Rough night.”

Yeah. Rough. If you could call tossing and turning
rough
, while she wondered if he was awake, too, and wishing things could be different between them. Wishing things could be like they were seven years ago, before everything changed.

He sighed. “Me too. I couldn’t sleep at all. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.”

She stiffened. So much for the casual act. “You might as well stop. It was a mistake to kiss each other.”

“Why?”

“We’re…friends. We should stay that way.” She tugged at her shirt and looked away. “Trust me, it’s better that way.”

“Let me guess. It’s because of who I am and where I come from. Right?” He set his fork down, stood, and braced his hands against the table, his eyes blazing. “You’re ashamed you let someone like me kiss you. Admit it.”

She rose, circled the table, and thwacked his arm as hard as she could. Which wasn’t very hard.
Ow
. She might have bruised her knuckles on his bicep. “Someone like you? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t act coy. You’re embarrassed because I don’t have a career, or a master’s degree. I came from the streets, I’ll die in the streets, and I’ll never be good enough for you.”

Her vision flashed red. She balled up her fists until her fingers hurt. He thought he wasn’t good enough for her? That he didn’t deserve her? What an idiot. She punched his shoulder. Still not so much as a flinch. That was even more infuriating, and she shook her aching hand, scowling.

“How dare you say that about yourself? You’re a better man than anyone I’ve ever known, and don’t you even think about saying otherwise. You’re a fucking Marine, you dumbass. A big damned hero.”

His nostrils flared. He gripped her arms and dragged her closer. “If it’s not that, then what is it? I know you want me as much as I want you. I’m not blind.”

“It’s…I’m…it just wouldn’t work!” Why wouldn’t he just drop it? “A relationship between us is out of the question.”

“I didn’t realize you’d turned into Miss Cleo overnight.” He looked deep into her eyes. Comprehension spread slowly across his face. He took a slow breath. “You won’t even give us a shot. Why? What are you hiding from? What are you scared of?”

She glared at him. “How long are you in Vegas? A day? A week?”

He flinched. “A few more days.”

“It’s not enough to start anything, and you know it.”

“It’s not much,” he admitted. His brow wrinkled. “But I’m not going to deploy again for a few months.” He let go of her arms, and reached up to finger a lock of her hair. His knuckles grazed her neck, igniting hot tremors. His eyes gentled. “Erica…”

“No.” She steeled herself. “Where are you stationed?”

“Camp Pendleton. In California.”

“So…five hours away? Give or take.”

“About.” He let go of her hair and brushed a finger across her cheek. “Some might call that driving distance.”

“Not people who work a seventy-hour week.”

“Then we could fly. Meet up halfway.”

“That might work,” she managed. “But most people can’t make a long-distance relationship like that work. What makes you think we could?”

He dropped his hand. “What makes you think we couldn’t?”

She tensed. This was the part where she was supposed to open up to him. Trust him with her secrets, and believe he wouldn’t run away from her in disgust. She opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out was a despairing sound.

She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She shook her head. “Maybe I should take you back to the hotel. We can say goodbye as friends. It’s better that way.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you really want?”

What did she want? Not this. Not this struggle to keep him at arm’s length. But taking a chance on him, allowing him into her life, had seemed foolish last night—and downright moronic by the light of day. She needed to stick with the original plan. Move on and forget him. She didn’t need a man in her life to be happy. Didn’t need anyone. Didn’t need
him.

She was fine on her own.

She shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. We’d never work. You’re my brother’s friend. I mean, look at us. It would be…weird.”

He drew back as if she’d slapped him, and swallowed heavily. “Okay. Let me grab my clothes, and I’ll call a cab.”

Let him go,
she told herself, but her self wasn’t listening very well. The way his shoulders deflated, the way he refused to look at her…it broke her heart in two. He still thought he wasn’t good enough for her. It was in every line of his body, his face, his eyes. How could she explain? How could she make him understand that it wasn’t because she didn’t want him, but because he wouldn’t want her? He wouldn’t want what she’d become.

And he wouldn’t want the hell that came with pretending to still love her.

He tried to twist past her. She grabbed his arm. His gaze dropped to her hand, then jerked to her face. His eyes were blazing, smoky and hot.

“Jeremy. It’s not you. It’s—”

He tugged free of her grip. “Spare me the most famous break-up line in history. We were never together. I don’t need it.”

Damn it, she wasn’t ready for this. Not now. Not any more than she had been seven years ago, when her only reasons had been her own naïveté and stupidity. “No! It’s true. I’m…I’m not the relationship type. I can’t commit to this. To you.”

“Operative words being ‘to you.’” He gripped her shoulders and shook her gently. “To
me
. Say what you really mean, Erica. You can’t commit to a guy who grew up on the streets. A guy whose father is a murderer. A tattooed loser with no future outside the military. Your parents never liked me. They’d never let you get away with dating someone like me. I get it. I do. So you don’t have to fucking lie.”

“I’m not lying!” Her eyes stung. “I just don’t want a boyfriend. Is that so wrong?”

“No. It’s not. What is wrong is denying yourself just because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” Her cheeks heated. Not scared? She was terrified. Everyone had their insecurities, and he was treading far too close to hers. “It’s none of your business, but no, I don’t say no because of who you are. It never bothered me before. Why should it now?”

“Then help me understand. You wanted me to kiss you last night, Erica.”

She swallowed. “I did. But it’s not that simple.”

His eyes darkened. “How is it not that simple?”

“Can’t you just accept that when a woman says no, she means no?” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

He looked stricken, but he nodded. “You’re right. You don’t.” He dropped his hands away and retreated a step. “So you really want me to leave. You don’t even want to try to make something between us work out.”

Damn it. That look on his face was the same as that look all those years ago, when she’d stared at him and hadn’t been able to say anything. Like she’d ripped his heart out and crushed it in her fist. It was that look that had made her run away before. She hadn’t been able to stand that she’d hurt the boy she loved so much with her clumsy confusion.

And she couldn’t stand that she’d hurt the man she ached for with her careful, defensive half-truths and lies.

He turned away.

“Jeremy,” she said, and laid her hand on his arm. When he turned back, she reached up, captured his face in her palms, drew him down, and kissed him.

She caught a glimpse of his fierce, stormy look before his mouth seized hers and he kissed her with a hunger and heat that made her dizzy. Last night had been all about taking it slow and easy. Today, he teased her with his tongue until her legs refused to support her and her fingers dug into his shoulders.

He backed her up until her shoulders hit the stucco wall. His hands were everywhere; her hips, her hair, her waist, caressing her feverishly. Every light stroke, every brush of his body, made her burn hotter. Desperately so. Desperate for him. His breaths came in harsh pants as he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

She hadn’t known this feeling in years. This bliss, this completion, this near-painful knowledge that she couldn’t go on without the man at her side. Seven years. Seven years since she’d felt so right, with Jeremy in her life. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it until now. She was ready to give him everything, right then and there…until he grasped her shirt and dragged it up.

Icy fear doused her ardor. She shoved out of his arms, turned away, and yanked her shirt back down. Her vision blurred. She covered her face. She couldn’t be this weak in front of him. He’d only pity her later. She didn’t need his pity.

She didn’t need anything from him at all.

“You should go,” she whispered, her throat tight.

He clasped her shoulders and spun her to face him so quickly she stumbled. His jaw was hard, his eyes even harder. “You’re only pushing me away again because you’re scared. What if I refuse to go? What if I refuse to let you win this time?”

“Then I’ll get a damned restraining order!” She swallowed hard and forced her lips to speak words her heart didn’t want to say. “I don’t want this. I don’t need this in my life. You need to leave. Now.”

For a few moments, he stared at her in silence. Then he turned and walked out of the room, into the foyer, and out the front door, without ever looking back. The door slammed shut, echoing through the empty house. She flinched.

Tears ran down her face. She scrunched her eyes tightly shut. He might be angry now, but he’d thank her if he knew the truth. She’d saved them both from that awkward moment when he realized what she was, and backpedaled so fast he might as well be on fire. No one would stay once they saw her. Her stupid fiancé had run, too. Stupid perfect Nathan with his stupid perfect life, and his not-so-perfect now-ex future wife.

She couldn’t let her guard down again, though she’d been tempted. Been tempted, and resisted. She’d been strong. As strong as she had to be.

It hurt more than she cared to admit.