“Fine.” She stood, resisting the urge to wipe damp palms on her skirt. Brian followed, leaving Sam and Michael staring up at them with knowing little smirks. Candace had one moment of satisfaction when Brian looked as if his eyes might roll out of his head at the sight of her outfit. It didn’t involve much more fabric than Starla’s. Stupidly, she’d worn it to entice him when they talked, hoping they’d end up back at her place again. Or his.
“Have fun,” Michael said. The three of them exchanged nice-to-have-met-yous as Candace roamed toward the door, arms wrapped around herself, trying to get a grip. She was shaking, and she had no idea why…whether it was from anger or arousal or the memory of what had happened between them only last night. The desire for it to happen again, knowing that it couldn’t.
She did know it, didn’t she? Deep down, didn’t she realize that Macy was right? That her parents would make her life a living hell from now till eternity if she ended up with someone like him? She didn’t want to end up disowned. She didn’t want to end up used and discarded by him. It seemed there was no happy medium: sleep with him even though there was no future, or sleep with him knowing there was a future and it alarmingly resembled the seventh level of hell. In that case, was she willing to run away from everything she’d ever known to be with him? It scared the bejesus out of her to consider it.
Of course, either option assumed that he wanted her. She should say her goodbyes to him now, go home, let the tears out and soothe herself with a tub of Häagen-Dazs and half a pound of Godiva. Then fill the lingering emptiness not assuaged by comfort food and Desperate Housewives reruns with a shoe-and-handbag shopping spree tomorrow with her best friends. Retail therapy. It had always helped.
Brian caught up and pulled open the door for her, waving goodbye to his female friend. Candace had nearly forgotten all about her. She supposed that meant she believed his story, foolish as it might make her.
They strolled out into the cool spring night, leaving the chaos of the sports bar behind. Candace breathed deep as they walked, trying to clear the muddled confusion of her thoughts. At least, that’s what she told herself. She was really trying to calm the jitters that raced along her nerves. Being with him made her feel as if mad little beasts were trying to eat her alive from the inside.
“Where are we going?” she asked softly.
“I’m parked in the back.”
She stopped walking. “I’m not leaving with you.”
“That’s fine. I just want to talk.” His gaze raked down the length of her body, taking in her short skirt and tight baby tee. “Is this my influence, honey? Because I think I like it.”
He might as well have touched her. Her ni**les hardened and pushed against the silk of her bra. She fidgeted and tugged the hem of her shirt outward, hoping he couldn’t see the peaks through her clothes, fighting the urge to cross her arms over herself.
When he saw she wasn’t going to reply, he reached for her hand and pulled her into motion again. Maybe he had his own version of “goodbye” well rehearsed and ready to deliver, rendering all her agonized indecision moot.
The inside of his truck still had that new-vehicle smell. He’d bought it after he and Michelle broke up, so she’d never been in it before. It was nice and roomy, a quad-cab. She made sure to stay scooted as close to the passenger door as she could even when he raised the console and left the bench seat open.
A snicker sounded in the darkness when she made no move to get closer to him. “Afraid I’ll bite?”
She stared straight ahead. “Something like that.”
“You’re a riddle to me, sunshine.”
“Why do you even call me that?” she blurted.
His surprise was almost palpable in the air between them. He cleared his throat. “It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.”
“Tell me. Please?”
“On one condition.”
“What?” she asked warily.
“That you scoot over here next to me.”
Her fingers were twisting into knots with one another. “After you tell me.”
He sighed as if dealing with an insistent child, and began toying with the steering wheel. “One day when I was at Michelle’s apartment, the weather was crappy and cold and she seemed to have a galloping case of PMS or something. I was ready to take off, but then you came over. You walked in the front door, wearing a bright yellow T-shirt and a pink cap with your hair pulled through in a ponytail, and you gave me the biggest smile. It was…almost blinding. You lit up when you saw me. And I thought you were like a ray of sunshine that had wandered in from the rain.” He scoffed. “Told you it was f**king stupid.”
She picked at her nails, feeling her bottom lip quiver and hoping it didn’t portend a torrent of tears. “It’s not stupid. I remember that day. You stayed around and we ended up all going out for a movie and pizza. But why do you say I’m a riddle?”
“Damn, what’s with the questions?” He sounded far more amused than annoyed.
“You can’t just throw that out there and not expect me to wonder why.”
“I see.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the side of his leg and his hand resting on his thigh. How she wanted him to touch her. But if he did, she was lost. “If you don’t come over here, I’m coming over there.”
“Brian—”
“Hey, that was our agreement. It’s okay.” He patted the seat next to him. “Promise.”
Sighing so that he was well aware of how unhappy it made her, she slid across the seat until they were scant inches away from touching sides. Now his nearness washed over her, his heat battering her entire left side, and any trembling she’d recently wrestled back control of promptly returned. And then some.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” he said.
“You didn’t answer my question. Why am I a riddle?”
“Because last night, you didn’t seem to be able to get enough, and now you’re looking at me like I’m a leper. And you’re running games on me.”
“Running games?” she asked, looking at him directly for the first time since they’d left the bar. There was only one overhead lamp in this parking lot and it gave scant illumination, casting his face in shadows. “What am I doing?”
Brian gestured toward the establishment. “That guy in there. You had to make damn sure he was sitting next to you, huh?”
“I have no idea what you’re—”
He laughed. “You can give it up, sweetie. I knew from the second the dude laid eyes on me that he knew exactly who I was to you. Obviously the whole thing was a set up. Did you follow me here?”
She couldn’t speak because there was nothing to say, and besides, her jaw had come unhinged.
He went on. “I’m sorry you saw me hanging out with another girl, but honestly, don’t let it bother you. She’s a friend only. I’ve known and worked with her for years, and that’s all she’s ever been.”
“You’re free to do whatever you want.” Even if she was only realizing it as she spoke it, it was the truth. She’d had no right to go off the way she did. Drag her poor friends into it.