Megan Hart - An Erotic Collection Volume 2

He touched her seven times, never in any way that could’ve been construed as anything more than casual, but Katie counted each time, her nerves tingling more with every press of his palm against her. By the time she’d finished her coffee, the brownie not even touched as she’d lost the capability to eat anything while Jimmy flirted with her, Katie thought if he touched her again she was going to melt into a puddle right then and there.

“Well, hey, it’s been great,” Jimmy said suddenly with a glance at the clock on the wall behind her, “but I have to scram.”

He stood, leaving Katie blinking and thinking of something witty to say, but he’d already squeezed her shoulder again and was pushing in his chair.

Damn.

He’d reduced her to speechlessness, which was not her normal state at all. She really hated not being herself around him, that somehow he’d made her the sort of woman who got all giddy and dumbstruck with crush. More than that, though, she hated that Jimmy seemed either oblivious to his effect on her, or so used to creating that response in women that he took it for granted.

“Thanks for the coffee.” Katie stood, too.

“Any time. I’ll call you,” Jimmy promised and shot her a grin.

Katie watched him go, wishing she could believe his offer was real and for her, instead of just his standard response to every female in the world.

* * *

Jacob hadn’t been too happy that Dean was going to Katie’s tonight. If any other man had snapped at Dean like that, told him off, said he’d better get his priorities straight instead of fucking around just because he “could” and not because he “should,” well, Dean would’ve told him to fuck off. It had come close to that, actually.

“You want me to cancel?” he’d asked, still tasting garlic and red sauce and wishing Jacob had brought all this up before they’d started eating.

Jacob had cocked his head and looked Dean up and down with a flat, cold gaze. “Would you, if I asked?”

“No.”

Jacob had shrugged. “Then do whatever the hell you want to, Dean. I won’t be that guy.”

“What guy?” Dean had asked, though he was pretty sure he knew.

“The one,” Jacob said as he got up and took his plate, food uneaten, to the garbage can to scrape it, “who waits around for you to figure everything you want and need is right in front of you, while you just keep walking away.”

“Is that a threat?”

Jacob had shrugged and given him another long look. “No, baby. It’s a fact.”

Then he’d pointed at the door, and Dean had gone with his tail between his legs, a fact that pissed him off so much he thought he might just delete that little prick from his phone entirely. But he didn’t. Sitting here in the car in front of Katie’s house, Dean held the phone and waited for it to ring.

But it didn’t.

The last guy he’d wanted and needed had cheated on him, lied to him and finally, left him. What still hurt wasn’t that Ethan had fucked around and been dishonest about it, but that in the end Dean had forgiven him and Ethan had still walked away.

The one who waits around for you to figure everything you want and need is right in front of you, while you just keep walking away.

“Fuck that,” Dean said aloud and tossed the phone into his glove compartment so he wouldn’t hear it not ringing. He looked at the house and wet his lips with his tongue.

He was going to do this, all right. The reasons had gone blurry-he was sure Katie would be okay if he cancelled, but then she’d always look at him when she thought he wasn’t looking and think about how he’d been a pussy. Hell, did that even matter? Why had this become so important? Why couldn’t he just let it go?

The porch light blinked twice. Katie. He probably looked like the biggest douche ever, sitting here in the car like he couldn’t make up his mind. Dean drew in a breath. In, out. Game time.

She greeted him at the door with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey. I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“No. I’m here.” He paused, suddenly feeling like maybe he should’ve brought flowers or something like that. Feeling lame. This was Katie, for fuck’s sake, his friend. He could’ve at least brought a bottle of wine.

“C’mon in.” She stepped aside and closed the door behind him.

They stood in the entryway, more awkward than they’d ever been with each other. Dean remembered his senior prom, standing with his date and feeling the same way. Feeling like he was putting on a show that wasn’t fooling anyone.

Should he kiss her? He’d have kissed her on the cheek or hugged her, at least, if they hadn’t agreed to fuck. He’d have at least slipped an arm around her waist as he followed her to the living room to give her a squeeze as he asked about her day. All things he’d done before but now couldn’t quite manage.

“Something to drink? I have some of that wine you like,” Katie offered.

“Actually, I already poured it, so you’d better be having some. I can’t finish the bottle myself.”

She pointed to the coffee table. Bottle, two glasses. It was his favorite.

“Yeah.” Dean sat, took a glass, looked at her. “Do you need this?”

Katie looked a little surprised as she sat next to him, reaching for her own glass. “You mean…for tonight?”

“Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat. “You want to back out? Or you need to be a little drunk?”

Katie laughed and shook her head. “No, sweetie, I totally do not need to be a little drunk to fuck you. Unless…you don’t want to?”

She looked wary and hesitant, an expression Dean felt on his own face and didn’t like. “No. I mean…unless you don’t want to.”

Katie sighed heavily and sank into the couch cushions while sipping the wine. “Oh, Dean. Listen, this was your idea, so if you don’t want to, I totally get it. We don’t have to have sex. Believe me,” she added somewhat sourly. “You won’t be the first man today who didn’t want to make love to me.”

That sounded bad. Maybe even worse than his own trials with Jacob. Dean turned to face her. “That fucker Jimmy?”

She shrugged and ran a fingertip around the top of the wineglass, making it sing. “I saw him today. I mean actually saw, not talked to on the phone.”

She detailed how they’d met by accident. The coffee, the touching. It pissed Dean off to hear how sad she sounded about it.

“He’s a fucking moron,” Dean said flatly. “A foron. Really, babe.”

Katie’s sigh was shaky as she put her glass on the table. “I should just forget him.”

To his alarm, because Katie wasn’t a wilting flower at all, Dean saw she was on the verge of tears. “Hey. C’mere.”

He pulled her close so she could snuggle in at his side, her cheek to his chest. She fit just right in the curve of his arm, his chin against her hair. She sighed heavily again and put her arms around him.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, voice muffled.

He stroked a hand down her hair and they sat that way in silence for a few minutes. The words that came out of him next surprised him, quiet though he said them.

“He wants to be in a real relationship with me.”

“Of course he does,” Katie said, brushing her cheek against his chest again.

“You’re fabulous.”

“…no. I mean…yes,” Dean said. “But that’s not what I mean.” More silence.

“You’re afraid,” Katie said softly. “I get it. I know about you and Ethan, remember?”

For the first time in a long time, Dean didn’t stiffen at the other man’s name. For the first time, Ethan’s face had faded enough another face could replace it. “I don’t want to be like him, Katie, and that’s what Jacob said I was like.”