I can’t get the strange look Ransom shot me, when I declined his invitation to meet him after class, out of my head. It’s almost as if he didn’t understand why I might be upset with him. At the very least, he should recognize that walking away from a woman in the middle of a discussion, directly following hot and heavy sex, is definite grounds for a problem. That he doesn’t shouldn’t be a surprise to me, but it is. I was just starting to get used to New Ransom, and then Old, Callous Ransom reared his head again.
Worst of all, I like both sides of him. I like his overbearing, bullheaded, take-charge attitude just as much as I like the more subdued, almost domestic side of his personality.
That’s where I made my first mistake. I allowed myself to get comfortable and forget who he really was. What this really is. Sex. Nothing more than good, casual sex. What happened in the bathroom is the perfect example of what we are. It would be prudent of me to not forget that again.
Over the course of the last week, I have lost my best friend and the boyfriend I thought I had. My world feels like it’s imploding. A smart person would point out that I am clearly the problem in at least one of those equations and it’s fully within my power to fix it.
I am not a smart person. Clearly. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a crowded bar on a Friday night ordering another pitcher for the table I am sharing with a guy who I know has feelings for me—the kind I don’t return.
My life is like a train speeding down unfinished tracks. One of these days, it will hit the end and plunge into the abyss. I need to stomp on the brakes now, but my common sense has fallen asleep at the wheel.
Brody jumps out of his seat as I walk up with my hands full and takes the pitchers. “I brought two,” I state the obvious as I drop into the hardwood chair.
“So we won’t run out.” Brody taps his temple. “Excellent thinking, J.”
I mock bow. Well, as much as I can given my seated position. “As always, I aim to please.”
Brody’s eyes flicker with appreciation as he scans my appearance. “Have I told you how good you look tonight?”
Topping off my glass, I respond coyly. “Only twenty times or so, but hearing it never gets old. You may refresh my memory.”
“You look really good tonight.”
I wink at him, and instantly regret it. I’m leading Brody on, giving him false hope. There must be something wrong with me because I can’t seem to help myself. I’m a shameless flirt. Maybe that’s why Ransom warned me against other men, because he knows it’s as much my fault as it is theirs?
“Hey,” Brody shouts over the loud pop country music. “You’re thinking too hard and it’s sucking all the fun from the room.”
Standing, he reaches for my hand. I’m given no time to prepare an argument as he whisks me onto the dance floor.
“I don’t know this song,” I shout. I feel like I’ve just entered a Footloose audition and forgot to study. Everyone, and I mean everyone, seems to have attended some dance class I wasn’t privy to. They’re all partnered up, performing the same moves at the same time.
Brody pulls me against his chest, his eyes glued to what’s happening around us. “You don’t have to know it,” he replies distractedly. “You just have to have fun.”
A startled scream bursts past my lips and I suddenly find myself being spun around and around the dance floor, weaving in and out of other couples’ paths.
And then the most wonderful thing happens.
I’m laughing. I don’t know when I started, but I’m having fun, and when I look around, everyone else is, too. Brody’s smile is wider than I’ve ever seen it. Clasping my hand, he holds it against his chest, and my grip on his shoulder tightens as we pick up the pace to match the beat of the music.
“Where did you learn to dance like this?” I’m winded, but the feeling of my heart beating so fast is exhilarating.
“About five minutes ago!”
I don’t believe him, because he’s that good, but as I watch him studying everyone around us, I realize he’s serious. “Are you telling me you just watched everyone dancing and jumped in?”
“Yep.” His grin is infectious.
I shake my head. “You’re crazy!”
The music cuts off at the exact moment the words leave my lips, and my voice is broadcast to the whole bar. My face heats and I bite my lip.
Brody’s shoulders shake with laughter. It’s then I realize that I’m still holding onto him. With a nervous smile, I drop my hands and sever all contact.
Placing his hand on my lower back, Brody walks us back to our table. Just before we reach it, he leans down, placing his lips against the shell of my ear. “You’re right, I am crazy. For you.”
My jaw drops and my head jerks up. I’m prepared to tell him all the reasons why he shouldn’t like me, why we’ll only ever work as friends, but the words are literally stolen away.
Brody’s lips land firmly on mine. He doesn’t ask my permission. Doesn’t waste time coaxing me to kiss him back. He just takes. Devours. Unbidden, my body sways toward his, and I fall deeper into the kiss.
And just like that, I’ve managed to find myself in a love triangle.
My head is filled with static, as if a bomb just went off, and as my hearing slowly returns, so too does my reasoning. When I realize what I am doing, I break our lip lock so fast Brody has to grip the table to keep from losing his balance.
I know I must look like a girl who just realized her boyfriend is an axe murderer, because Brody’s face morphs from utter bliss to a mask of concern in the split second it takes for me to throw my purse over my shoulder.
“I have to go,” I tell him wildly. “I’m so sorry, but this was a mistake. I have to go.”
I turn to run, but it feels as though I’ve stepped into quicksand. Time slows to a halt and the buzzing in my ears returns en force. Standing less than a few feet away is Ransom. His face is completely void of all emotion, and the lack thereof is so much worse than if he’d yelled. I feel like a fist is in my chest squeezing my heart.
I gasp, but that’s all the sound I get out. I’ve reached the end of the track, and my train is tumbling over the edge right before my eyes.
Unable to watch the wreckage unfold, I force my leaden legs to move and before I know it, I am running out the door, running from Brody, from Ransom. From everything.
I don’t look back.
***
Brody catches up with me on the side of the road, and I am too ashamed to explain to him everything that’s going on in my head. Thankfully, he doesn’t force it. Like the gentleman that he is, he takes me home and when I tell him good-night, he leaves it at that.
I don’t get so lucky with Ransom. He shows up soon after Brody leaves, banging down the door because his key can’t get past the chain. I ignore him until one of the neighbors threatens to call the cops.
Forced to let him in or see him arrested for disturbing the peace, which will no doubt lead to a whole new set of problems, I sit through his long, impassioned speech over how hurt he was to see me kiss another man, which seems so unlike him, until he begins questioning my morals, my integrity. He asks me about my feelings for him, about what I want out of all of this, but my answer keeps coming back the same—I don’t know.
What am I supposed to say? It’s the truth. I have no idea where I stand with him anymore. I’ve never had to give it much thought. Being with Ransom was supposed to be easy, no strings. Hell, we were never even supposed to know each other’s names. Instead, it has left me so knotted up inside, I don’t know whether I like him, love him or am simply in love with the idea of him. My entire life has been tossed into the air, and all I keep seeing is big, fat question marks stamped on everything as it falls back down around my feet.
Ransom drops to his knees before me with a tortured look on his face. I instantly recoil inside, because that look comes with expectations that I can’t handle right now. I have to figure out how to handle me first.
“Out of everyone, I never would have expected you to be capable of doing that, but I’m also man enough to accept some of the blame.”
I am surprised by this. Ransom is a lot of things, but I never would have expected him to admit such a fault. “I’m the one who kissed another man.”
“You wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t given you reason to,” he contends. “I’ve been giving you mixed messages, I know that. The truth is, we never should have hooked up, and it’s not fair for me to ask you to hide us from everyone.” Stricken, he reaches out, his fingers touching my face. “Tell me to leave, and I will. If it makes things better for you, I’ll walk away right now, Josephine.”
Do I want him to go away? I try to picture never feeling his skin on mine again, never hearing his roughened voice in my ear after we’ve had sex, never knowing the look of true passion that I see in his eyes every time he looks at me.
My throat tightens and I shake my head. “I don’t want you to go.” The truth is there are a lot of things I would change between us. I would start with throwing out all this secrecy and telling everyone about us. I could do with a little less of the split personalities, too, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.
“But you don’t want me to stay, either.” It’s a statement, and I can’t help wondering what he saw in my face to make him reach that conclusion.
My lungs fill until my chest feels tight, and I release my breath on a heavy sigh. “I want things to change.”
His expression tightens and his hand falls away, leaving my cheek cold. “I can’t go public.”
“I know.” I sigh again. I don’t know whether it was the alcohol or the fact that I’ve been up for over twelve hours straight, but I feel drained. My whole life has been one enormous secret—from the stripping to him and other things that I can’t bring myself to think about—and I’m exhausted.
I continue, and though it breaks my heart, the words have to be said. “That’s the problem, Ransom. You can’t tell anyone, but I can’t continue to keep up this secrecy. It’s too much maintenance and it’s wearing thin. I’m wearing thin.”
“So that’s it? We’re done?” He’s upset, and I understand that, but I have to think of myself first. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices in my lifetime, and it’s time I take something back. I’m starting with my life. I won’t be held prisoner by someone who doesn’t think as highly of me as I do them.
“I need to be with someone who wants to tell the world about me,” I explain, hoping to smooth away some of the sting. “Not someone who is ashamed to be seen with me.”
“I’m not ashamed of you,” Ransom says through clenched teeth.
I tilt my head, my smile small and sad. “We have sex, Ransom. That’s all we do. We’ve never been out on a date, never kissed in public, never taken a drive together. None of the things real couples do.”
“We drove together once.”
“Three times and they don’t count,” I say, thinking of the time his car broke down and I dropped him at the hotel and other times when I was drunk. If I recall correctly, that first time he was meeting a “friend.” Most likely the same friend who showed up with him hours later at the club for a private dance. I admit, it’s something that still bothers me if I think on it too long.
“Your friend knows about me. My parents know about you. I asked you to come to dinner with me.” His silky voice has taken on a pleading tone, a last ditch effort to sway my decision, but it’s already been made.
I shake my head. Standing, I slip past him and walk to the front door. Opening it, I stand in the doorway and pass him a meaningful look. “I’m sorry, but it’s just not enough.”
He has this hateful look in his eyes, but it’s not directed at me. I think he hates himself, or maybe the situation. I know how he feels. I never wanted things to end between us, but here we are, standing in my doorway, and it’s over. Saying goodbye is a physical ache in my chest, but it has to be done. I see no other way.
Ransom stands over me, and it’s all I can do not to fall into his arms and take back everything I just said. “You know I wish things had been different.”
“So do I.” But they aren’t. He’s still my professor, and I’m still his student, and let’s face it, this relationship has never been healthy.
He nods, his gaze shifting from the hall to my face like he’s not sure he can take that first step. Then, without any warning, I’m in his arms and his mouth is on mine and I am breathing and tasting him and all of my senses are exploding because this man—this man—is the one I want. Have always wanted. And he isn’t mine. Can’t be mine.
He lets me go as fast as he took me, and then he’s gone. I watch him walk out my door and out of my life and I don’t know whether to be relieved or just very, very sad.