Cheating on Myself (33 page)

“Well, aren’t you subtle?” I whispered back.

“Do you hate me?” Cat asked kindly. “As far as I can tell, it doesn’t seem like he’s holding a grudge. And in case you’ve put a lot of stock in the mommy-circuit gossip, I checked in with Jenell Matthews and she asked around and found out Joe has actively dismissed a wagonload of hot moms who have flashed their tatas at him over the past three years. Apparently he has more class now, but unfortunately, his man-whore reputation stuck.” She grinned. “It seems a shame to waste something so pretty.”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Sure, I’ll ask him for a ride.”

Joe did not mind giving me a ride home, so Cat, Pippa, and Heidi fled to rescue their nanny from a chip binge while I waited for the band to gather their things. I chatted idly with Theo while Joe loaded instruments into the back of his car, wondering all the while how much the other guys in the band knew about what had happened between me and their banjo player.

Once everything was in place and he’d changed into jeans, Joe and I walked together out to his car. He ambled along slowly and I matched his pace. He’d left his cowboy hat with the rest of the band gear, and was now wearing a knit cap over his mess of fluffy curls. “It’s good to see you,” he said quietly as we made our way through the cold, silent parking lot. Our boots made matching clicking sounds against the pavement.

“You too,” I answered. My fingers knocked into his as I swung my arms loosely by my sides. It was an accidental touch, but then Joe reached for my hand and I let him squeeze it. Just as quickly, he dropped it, and I wondered what it meant. I wished he would hold on. “I’m sorry I was a judgmental bitch when you came to see me at work that day.”

“S’okay,” he said, smiling at me like he really meant it. “I get where you’re coming from—pieces of my past are not all that pretty. Since the divorce, especially, I’ve done some stuff
I’m
not proud of, but I like to think I’m evolving. It’s all part of growing up, right? I’m happy to talk about it further, if you want, but would really like to just move on. I have.” He nodded resolutely.

“So does that mean you’re definitely not sleeping with your little groupies’ moms anymore?” I smiled sweetly.

“Just put your questions out there. Please… don’t be shy,” he said, laughing. “And no. I’m not. What’s done is done, can’t take that back. But past regrets lead to better futures.”

I nodded. “I hope so.” The wind whipped at my exposed skin as I walked away from Joe to go toward the passenger side of the car. Joe followed me and unlocked my door first, touching my shoulder as I slipped into the chilly, still silence of his car. I wanted his touch to go further, but that was all he gave me.

“Do you need to get home right away?” he asked, settling into the driver’s seat. “Want to grab some food?”

“Sure.” Food was fine, but what I really wanted was to kiss him. Or, better yet, to trail my fingers along his stomach and have his hands crawl up my back, to melt against him as our bodies pressed together. I shivered, practically jumping out of my skin to climb into his seat with him.

“Are you okay with Matt’s Bar? A couple guys I know are playing a set there, and I told them I’d swing by so I can give them some pointers. I guarantee the music will be terrible, but the burgers should make up for it.”

“Adult music? Like, a rock band?” I asked. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone out to listen to a band—something other than the Dog Hounds or the symphony or a string quartet at a charity event. “Yeah, it would be fun to see a real band.”

“A real band? Lady, what do you think the Dog Hounds are?” He shot me a hurt look. I started to protest, but he cut me off. “I should probably manage your expectations anyway. These guys are far from a real band. They’re never going to make it, but I figure we’ve gotta support peoples’ dreams. It’s not really my place to tell someone to give it up…” He grinned. “Even if listening to them play is a form of torture. It won’t be as bad if you’re with me.”

Joe put the car in drive and headed back toward the city, while I tried hard not to stare at him. There was something about the curve of his jaw, and the way his smile crept all the way up his cheeks, that made me want to touch him. But that would be weird, I reasoned—it’s not like you could just start grabbing at someone, like no time had passed. We’d broken up—if you could even
break
up when you weren’t even officially
anything
to begin with. I couldn’t assume he was interested in me like that anymore.

Just as I was thinking that, Joe reached over and touched my cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” he said in a low, rumbly voice. “Is this okay?” He pushed my hair behind my ear and his hand reached for the back of my neck.

I nodded. I reached up and touched his hand, pulling it in closer to brush his fingers against my lips.

Joe said, “I’m glad everything is okay with Pippa… it was hard to see her—and you—at the hospital. I stopped by your place and checked in with Anders the next day. He told me she’d been taken out of the coma. Are they all home now?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Finally. And I’m back at my place again. I was living with Cat’s mom, trying to help. Trying to figure some stuff out and just keep myself distracted. But it’s good to be home.”

“That guy at the hospital—the ex-boyfriend?”

“Yup. Erik.”

“Figures. He seems fun.” I looked at Joe, and noticed he’d thrust his lower lip out and was nodding slowly, the way Erik had in the hospital. “Rock on.” The impression made me laugh. I guess I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. “Has he seen your list? I bet a guy like that would love a list.”

“Lay off the list, buster.”

He grinned. “I can’t. It fascinates me.”

“Much like your smarminess and inability to wink fascinates
me
.”

“You still think I’m smarmy?” He pulled the car over to park across the street from Matt’s Bar. “I prefer the term ‘silky.’ Aren’t I sort of a smooth and silky guy?”

“That sounds very wrong.” I laughed as we walked into the bar. We sat down in a booth near the back, our faces lit by the neon beer signs dangling from the wall. The band hadn’t started yet, but a few guys were hurriedly stuffing instruments into a small piece of empty floor in a corner of the restaurant. A television playing women’s hockey was propped up on a rickety-looking board hanging from the wall above them.

“You were great that day with Pippa, you know.” I played with a menu and peeked up at him shyly. “Do you know you never sang for me when we were together?”

“Whenever you’re in the audience, I’m singing right to you, baby.” I snorted, and he shrugged. “It may sound silky—”

“Smooth,” I interrupted, laughing.

“…But it’s true.” He reached over to touch my hand. “Maybe I’ll get to sing to you in private sometime, too.” He smiled at me and I practically melted.

As we waited for our food, we talked about everything and nothing at all. I was eager to steer us toward topics of conversation that would keep me from thinking about how much I wanted to be somewhere private with him
now
. So I filled Joe in on the beauty of my new toilet tissue campaign, and he told me stories from some of their pre-holiday gigs. It was meaningless conversation, but it felt good to laugh with someone again.

Just as our hamburgers were delivered to our table, the guy who’d been hauling most of the gear into the corner strolled over to fist-pump Joe. Joe stood up and gave him one of those guy-half-hug things. When Joe turned to introduce us, I finally got a good look at his friend.

Even without the tux, I recognized him immediately. “Hi, Jonathan.”

“You know each other?” Joe asked.

Jonathan grinned. “Yeah, Stella’s my Gran’s friend. We went out. You two on a date?” He held his hand up for a high-five with both of us. “I guess Stella here likes the smoldering musician type, eh, brother?”

Joe looked about as disgusted as I felt. “I guess that must be true, ah,
brother
. Stella does have exceptional taste.”

Jonathan winked at me. “You two lovebirds enjoy the show, all right? We’re working on some new stuff. Joe, you mind if I check in with you tomorrow to see what you think?”

“Sure, give me a call.” Joe nodded and sat back down. “So you and Jonathan?” he asked, once Jonathan was out of hearing range. “Just a fling, I assume?”

“Yep,” I said, smiling sweetly. “Just a fling. Nice guy, that Jonathan. He’s got a great place. He lives down in his grandmother’s basement, you know. Very practical.”

“That is practical. Sounds perfect for you,” Joe said, laughing. “I can see the two of you together. Jonathan. Now there’s a guy who has his shit together.” Jonathan’s band started to play—a loud, screeching horror show of sound.

I cringed. “Yep. He really understands where he’s going in life.”

“Yep.” Joe studied me carefully. His eyes focused in on mine when he asked, “Did you really hook up with Jonathan?” He spoke loudly enough for me to hear him over the band. “I don’t know him that well, but I think I know both of you well enough that this is something of a surprise…”

“No one ever said I hooked up with Jonathan.” I took a bite of my hamburger, then folded my arms across my chest. “You just jumped to conclusions.”

“Huh,” he said, leaning back in his booth seat. I strained to hear him over the shouting and angry guitar noises. “I guess that reminds me of someone else I know—a lady who assumes just because I have a history of being something of a player, I’m still sleeping with half the moms from every preschool around town. Someone who doesn’t seem to realize I’m not the least bit interested in all the moms around town when there’s a hot girl with a flair for spontaneity and whimsy sitting right in front of me.” He grinned.

“I’d assume you were talking about me,” I said. “But I don’t really have a flair for spontaneity
or
whimsy.”

Joe shook his head. “Oh, but you do. Right now, I’m specifically remembering one afternoon in particular. An afternoon at a rest stop.”

“You’re thinking about that?” I asked, wishing we could recreate the scene from the rest stop in the back of Matt’s Bar.

“I might be,” he said, lifting his eyebrows. “It’s a good memory. One that’s haunted me for the past few weeks.” He flagged the waitress over and asked for the check. We split the bill and headed out into the frozen night. When we got back to the car, Joe looked over at me.

“You know,” he said slowly. “You’ve never been to my place.”

“You’re right,” I said, suddenly feeling a lot warmer. “I haven’t.”

“So? Can you come over for a while?” He lifted his eyebrows, then blinked exaggeratedly.

“Are you trying to
wink
at me right now?” I asked, laughing. “That’s so sad.”

“Not smarmy? I’m going for smarmy.” He flashed a huge, toothy smile. “Silky.”

“Whatever it is that you’re doing, it’s actually a little creepy. It’s like you’re leering at me. That grin is disconcerting.”

“I
am
leering at you,” he said, converting the toothy grin to his signature smirk. “And inviting you over.”

“I’d love to,” I said, my heart beating and fluttering as I thought about tucking inside Joe’s sheets to warm up. “Maybe we can work on your winking for a while.”

“There are other things I’d rather do,” he said with a growl, and put the car in drive. Then he blinked hugely again, laughed, and drove on.

By the time we got to his house, I was practically floating with anticipation. I’d spent the past month reasoning through why I should or shouldn’t be with Joe, but it had taken only one afternoon with him again to realize the only thing I wanted to do was linger in the moment and enjoy myself. I didn’t care what my list said, or where this night would or wouldn’t get me—all I cared about was having some fun and doing something I
wanted
to do. Something I
really
wanted to do.

I stepped out of the car and followed Joe up the front walk. He lived in a tiny bungalow with dead plants crammed into pots on the front stoop that looked like they were waiting hopefully for more summer days. The front door was painted a cheerful yellow, and when he opened it, I immediately recognized the smell I’d come to associate with Joe. I breathed in and stepped into the front hall, wondering who might make the first move and if it would be awkward or uncomfortable given our time apart.

I didn’t have to wonder long. The moment I walked over the threshold, Joe reached one arm past me and shoved the door closed. I stepped back and he stepped forward and before I knew what was happening, he had my body pressed up against the front door. Without a moment of hesitation, his mouth was on mine and it felt like no time had passed since we’d last been together. His strong arms were on either side of me, and his body held me so tightly in place against the door, I could feel his heart pounding through the layers of our clothes. Layers I wanted
off
.

Suddenly, we were all over each other and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to wrap my legs around him and let him take me anywhere. He tasted like cinnamon doughnuts, and his lips were soft but his kisses urgent. I was uber-aware of what had been building up in me, and I knew suddenly and without a doubt that I was very much not alone. We were acting desperate, eagerly tasting and touching each other.

My body relaxed into Joe’s and he reached his hand around the back of my head to pull me even closer. His hands twisted into my hair, then trailed down my body, and suddenly I felt myself lifted off the ground. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and held on so tight, I could feel the buttons on his shirt pressing against my chest.

Slowly, we stumbled from the front door to the couch, until eventually we were in a room at the back of the house that I assumed was Joe’s bedroom. I reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, and watched as they fell to the floor. He kicked off his boots. There was something so adorable about the way Joe stood there in red boxers and a flannel shirt and his silly knit cap all askew, that I couldn’t keep myself from giggling. This made him do a little dance, and then he grabbed me up in his arms and swung me around, kissing me full on the lips before finally pulling me to him again.