Totaled (23 page)

We both stood under our own separate streams of water, relishing the warmth and I suspect both thinking about the moment we just shared. I started humming to myself without even realizing and she recognized the song right away. I glanced towards her when I felt her eyes on me.

I smiled at her, our eyes meeting each other’s over the wall of the shower partition. She smiled back and said, “I can’t believe you know The Postal Service. They’re one of my favorite bands. And ‘Such Great Heights’? I love that song.”

She was so beautiful that it took my breath away. Even with her slightly smudged mascara and crazy wet and wild hair, she looked like an angel.

“I actually prefer the Iron and Wine version a little better.”

“Really?” Her expression was shocked.

“Yeah. I probably like a lot of things that you’d be surprised about. Music especially,” I informed her with a smirk.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Well, what would you assume I’m into?” I provoked, honestly curious at what her answer would be.

“Hmm, probably classic rock or alternative. I don’t peg you for a gangsta rap kind of guy, and you definitely don’t strike me as a country enthusiast,” she confessed.

“Wow! You’re pretty good. Judgmental, but good,” I teased. “I actually can’t stand country, I only like hip hop right before a fight or during an intense cardio session because it’s sort of angry, and I appreciate most of the eighties genre as a whole. Mostly I like indie musicians. I love acoustic, folksy bands. It’s my favorite kind of music.”

“Seriously?” she replied with a surprised but pleased expression on her face. “You are quite the enigma, Drew Dougherty!”

“You have no idea, Bree Murphy,” I quipped.

We finished showering off, talking back and forth all the while, getting to know each other. It was nice, refreshing. I really liked her. She was quick and witty and so damned smart. And holy shit, she was sexy. She was so incredibly gorgeous and seemed to be completely unaware of her sex appeal, which was even more of a turn on. I tried my best to be respectful, but being 6′4″ in a shower with 5′10″ walls was a blessing. I couldn’t help but sneak a peek over the wall when she was rinsing her shampoo out. Thank Christ she wasn’t tall enough to see the immediate response (me standing at attention) on the other side of the wall. Our conversation was fun, engaging, and teasing in just the right way. It seems we like to banter with each other but not be obnoxious.

She put a towel around her hair like a turban, wrapped a towel around her body, and excused herself to one of the closed stalls around the corner to change. I took a few deep breaths while she was away and got dressed quickly into one of Liam’s t-shirts and pair of basketball shorts. It was a little weird wearing a pair of his boxers, but they were clean and I knew I needed all the layers of clothing I could get, being around Bree.

When she came out wearing a pair of spandex shorts and a tight tank top over a sports bra, I froze. She looked unbelievable. Her body was insane and she was actually bashful about it.

Obviously noticing my admiration of her outfit, she said, “Sorry. It was the only thing I had. I always keep a change of running clothes here in case I need to get out some frustration pounding the pavement.”

“Don’t apologize. You look amazing.”

“I was thinking we could just walk to my house if the rain has stopped. It’s about a half mile or so from here and my car is there. I could drive you home from there,” she offered.

“That sounds good. Thank you,” I responded, thinking that I wanted to walk slowly to spend as much time as possible with her.

We shut down the lights and secured the gym. The rain had stopped and looking down the street, we could see and hear the activity picking back up at the festival. I followed her in the opposite direction as she headed down the street towards a residential area. We walked down the quiet neighborhood streets chit-chatting about our likes and dislikes, interests, and other random facts. I was on cloud nine with how perfect this girl was and didn’t think twice about reaching down to grab her hand. She held mine back in return and we walked hand in hand, fingers entwined, all the way to her house.

Chapter Twenty-Five

BREE

The drive from my house to Drew’s was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions. I was excited just thinking about what had happened between us, but also anxious and frightened about what was to come next. I wanted more but was terrified at the consequences of crossing that line. There was also the minor detail that I had no clue what I was doing. Never having been that far with a guy before, I always imagined that it would be clumsy and awkward, yet Drew and I fit together so well. There wasn’t a single moment that wasn’t perfection, on my end anyway. My thoughts began racing with insecurity and self-conscious uncertainty. Did he like it as much as I did?

“Why do you look so nervous?” Drew asked from the passenger seat, intently looking over at me, seemingly aware of my inner turmoil.

I didn’t know what to say in response, but I wanted to be completely honest with him. “I am nervous,” I replied. “You make me nervous.”

He reached over and placed his warm, strong hand over my thigh, trying to reassure me. “What are you nervous about?”

“Everything. You. This. I just, this just…this doesn’t happen to me. I don’t do this kind of thing.” I took my eyes off of the road for a moment to glance at his face. I saw that he was watching me, truly listening to me, with concern in his expression. “Drew, I’m just scared.”

“Do you like me?” he asked.

Shocked and caught off guard by his blunt question, I looked over at him again. He was staring at me, waiting for an answer, his face unreadable. I looked back at the road ahead of us and whispered, “Yes.”

I felt his smile in response; I didn’t have to look over at him.

“I like you too, Bree. I like you more than I can even share with you because I don’t want to scare you off.” Taking my right hand off of the wheel, he kissed each of my knuckles individually, returning blood flow to them, as I had been squeezing the wheel with a death grip in fear of what his response would be. He was tender, sweet, comforting. I glanced over, exhaled the breath that I’d been holding and, in that moment, surrendered to him.

He called out directions to me when I was to make turns to get to his house, and I didn’t stop him, although I knew exactly where he was staying. I parked the car in the driveway, unsure of what to do next. Do I just leave? If he invites me in, do I accept the invitation?

He made the decision for me. Reaching over to the keys in the ignition, he turned the engine off, took the keys with him, and got out, quickly making his way over to my door. He opened the door for me, held out his hand for me to take into mine, and simply asked, “Can I show you my place?” with a cute, innocent grin to go with it. I returned his smile and got out of the car.

Walking up the stairs to his front door, I felt what could only be butterflies in my stomach. He opened his door and gestured for me to enter first. I was immediately taken aback by the beauty of his place. I knew he was renting the beach house, so the furniture and décor weren’t his own, but strangely, the whole place seemed to fit him, suiting his personality perfectly. I made my way back to the enormous sliding glass doors that held a panoramic view of the peaceful ocean I knew so well.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Drew said softly, standing behind me. “I’ve never felt so at home before in my entire life, as I do here.”

“I know what you mean,” I responded. “This beach is my favorite place in the whole world. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but it’s like a new experience every time I look at it. Never the same view twice. Never the same breeze hitting your face. I feel so small and so at peace at the same time.”

Drew reached his arms around me, holding my waist, burying his face in my hair, his grip tightening around me as he breathed in the scent of my conditioner. He gently spun me around to face him. We gazed at each other, trading looks, having a silent conversation, understanding every word exchanged. He leaned his head down, his lips approaching mine. The heat rolling off his skin onto mine was like a fire, his breath soft and sweet on my face. My lips ached for his to touch them again, painfully urging them closer and closer like a magnet. He spoke in a whisper, stopping just shy of contact. “You’re singing a song that’s stealing my heart.”

“What?”

“It’s an old Irish poem that my mom used to say. ‘She danced a jig, she sung a song that took my heart away,’ she would recite. I feel like that right now. Like my heart is going to just explode out of my chest. I’m falling for you, Brianne Murphy.”

I could’ve melted right then and there into a puddle of goo, my legs instantly turning to Jell-o at his words. But before I could fall, sure to embarrass myself further, his lips crashed onto mine, his arms firmly around me, holding me to him, my body molding against his in perfect alignment. He led the kiss, which was gentler and sweeter this time, laced with emotion that wasn’t there previously. The underlying passion was still present, but the connection was deeper. He held me like it was the last time he was ever going to get to. He caressed my skin like it was the softest skin he had ever felt before. I felt beautiful. I felt appreciated. I felt coveted. And when he finally broke the kiss for us both to catch our breath, I felt physical pain.

We smiled at each other, chuckling at the fact that we couldn’t seem to help but kiss each other. He grabbed my hand enthusiastically and showed me the rest of his place, his smile beaming with pride as he explained that he had secured it for the next three months. I wondered how he could afford to rent such a nice house on his own, but quickly chastised my thoughts—it was none of my business. I did notice the 4 x 6 black and white picture of a beautiful woman on his nightstand, whom I presumed to be his mother. He had her eyes, kind and tender.

Just as I was about to thank Drew for a wonderful day and make my way home, he interrupted my thoughts. “We never got to finish our platter. Are you as hungry as I am?” he asked. “Can I make you a sandwich?”

“I am kind of hungry,” I admitted. “I would love a sandwich. Point me to the bread and the fridge and I’ll make us some.”

“Uh, no you won’t! You’re always taking care of everyone else, cooking for your dad and Liam as if their arms were broken. Let me make you dinner. Please? Plus, I seriously doubt you could top my world famous grilled cheese,” he joked.

“Is that right? Well, by all means, let me be the judge of that,” I invited, having a seat on one of the barstools, excited to watch him in the kitchen.

He first poured me a glass of sweet tea, winking as he set it down. Then he extracted a huge griddle from a cabinet underneath the center island and plugged it in. I observed his every movement as he flitted around the kitchen collecting his ingredients, thinking to myself that his body truly was a work of art. I noticed that he took out what appeared to be three different kinds of cheese and real butter, which I appreciated. We talked playfully as he cooked and my mouth watered at the smell of the melting cheeses. He cooked one sandwich for me and three for himself. When I gave him a look of shock, he simply replied, “What? I’m a big boy and I haven’t eaten all day.”

It was then that I remembered the pouring down rain that interrupted our meal at the shrimp festival, which led me to remember our running through the rain playfully like children, which then progressed into the memory of what has to be considered the best first kiss ever. A warm, tingling sensation spreading over me, starting at my toes and waving over my whole body all the way up to the tips of my hairs. I smiled. I even giggled a little at the recollection and looked up to see Drew looking at me, puzzled, his head cocked slightly to the side, wanting in on my inner thoughts. I denied him access to my happy thought and brought my sandwich up to my mouth for a first taste.

Damn! That IS a good grilled cheese.

I chewed it slowly, rolling it around on my tongue, letting each and every flavor spread over my entire palate. Crisp, buttery bread, but not greasy, charred ever-so-slightly on the edges, just the way I would’ve cooked it myself. Sharp cheddar, pepper jack, and some other cheese that I just couldn’t pin down. I opened my eyes, not realizing that I had even closed them, and was met with Drew’s face right in front of mine. He reached out and touched the corner of my lip, wiping something off. He brought his finger slowly to his mouth and sucked what I could see now was a glob of butter off of the tip, grinning at me while he did. Watching the simple act of him tasting something off of me instantly made my panties wet. Knowing exactly how he was affecting me, he turned away and resumed eating his own meal.

“So, you like it? Tell me the truth. The best you’ve ever tasted, right?” he asked with arrogant confidence.

“You’ve definitely got some grilled cheese skills. I don’t know if it is the best I’ve ever tasted, but I can confidently place you in the top three,” I teased, laughing at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

“I don’t believe you. I saw your face when you tasted that first bite. I watched you savor the awesomeness of my secret cheese combination. I’m pretty sure you even moaned a little,” he pointed out.

“I did not moan!” I argued.

Drew stepped closer to me, leaning across the bar, and looked directly into my eyes. “Oh, you definitely moaned. I saw it. I heard it. I even felt it. It was hot.”

Holy shit.

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Chef Dougherty, but it’s going to take more than that to make me moan,” I said, feeling my face go immediately red with embarrassment.
Did I actually just say that out loud?

Drew chuckled. “Challenge accepted.”

Gulp.

Somehow, I survived our grilled cheese dinner filled with sexual innuendos and said goodnight with another amazing, long kiss. I didn’t even remember the drive home. I could’ve run someone over and not even realized it. What was Drew doing to me? I walked briskly into the house, willing myself to get a grip before seeing him tomorrow. The second I sat down on the bed, my cell phone chimed with a new text message.