When It Hooks You (It #1) (17 page)

“Do you seriously think I ever do grubby?”

He scowled. “It’s not fair for you to look so good while I’m dressed like the jolly green idiot.”

Trish giggled, glancing at his exposed ankles under the kelly green Notre Dame sweats. “Not quite long enough, eh? I’ll be sure to grab a pair at the big and tall men’s store for next—er, next time I date an extra tall guy.” She zoomed into the bathroom. After shutting the door, she threw her balled fists to her face to rap her knuckles against her forehead as she muttered, “There will be no next time.”

After brushing her teeth, she opted to not wash off her makeup, but rather touch it up. One night wouldn’t do those pores too much damage. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she gave herself a stern look in the mirror. “No more thinking into the future. Enjoy this extra time you’ve finagled and don’t ruin it.” Pointing a finger that meant business, she sealed the internal pact and then joined him in her bedroom.

The room was narrow, but she insisted on a queen-sized bed. She was never comfortable sleeping on a twin mattress, even when she slept alone. He was already on the bed, sitting with his back against the white, iron headboard. A ruffled pillow peeked out from behind him. Even in those ridiculous pants and one of Trish’s stretched out concert T-shirts, he was somehow dashing—and more than a little sexy reclining so casually in her feminine lair.

She thought of how much better he’d look in no clothes at all and wondered if her anti-seduction promise was binding. Reminding herself that getting steamy was what had set them on uncomfortable footing earlier, she opted to not pursue it. At least not yet. Instead, she took a mental picture of him on her bed to use at a later point, when she was alone with her imagination.

The bed didn’t leave enough room to gracefully walk along either side of it, so Trish crawled toward him from the foot of the mattress. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest, curling her legs underneath her. Before she could manage a word, her mouth stretched into a huge, spontaneous yawn. She slapped her hand over her lips and laughed. “Sorry. Guess all that fresh air made me sleepy.”

“I’m tired, too. Go ahead; lay down.”

She crawled under the covers and laid her head on the pillow. He mirrored her, staying on top of the blankets. They didn’t touch, merely stretched out inches apart, looking at each other. “How old were you when you learned to sail?” she asked.

“Twelve. More accurately, I learned how to unknot all the tangles I caused during that first year. Much of the following year was spent scrambling up the mast because I’d either neglected to attach the right thing or pulled the wrong thing.”

“But by fourteen you were master of the waves, I’m sure,” Trish said, stroking the tips of her fingers along the curve of his cheek bone and down to his jaw.

“I’d improved by then.” He planted a small kiss on her forehead and brought his head back to rest on his pillow.

In her pleasantly drowsy state, Trish gave him a groggy smile while she traced her thumb along one corner of his mouth. “Tell me a story from the chronicles of Captain Adam.”

He turned his face and nipped at her thumb while his eyes flickered back and forth, as if searching his memory. “I’ll tell you the tale of my first trans-Atlantic crossing. I was ecstatic to finally be old enough to crew a boat in the rally. We sailed from the tip of Africa to the eastern coast of South America.”

Along with the excitement of the first launch into the waters and his feelings as the last speck of land disappeared from view, he told her of how his uncle and the other crew members, all significantly older than Adam, had tried to convince the teenager that the dorsal fin of every dolphin they came across was, in fact, that of the exact same shark.

“They said it followed them every year and that the telltale scar they all claimed to see on the fin was the result of their narrow escape during a previous rally. When an entire school appeared, I called them out on the lie, pointing out that sharks are solitary. That only gave them fodder for a new trick. One of them clapped a hand to my uncle’s shoulder, hanging his head woefully. ‘Such a pity. The sea’s already having its way with the boy’s mind. There’s but one fin out there, laddie.’

“His feigned pirate accent should’ve clued me in that he was having fun with me, but it only suckered me in more. I’d signed up for an adventure, and that’s what they gave me. A continuous reel of
Jaws
played through my head the rest of the trip.”

“Poor baby,” Trish said, patting his cheek and then curling her arms into her chest as she closed her eyes. She enjoyed getting this glimpse of a young, naïve Adam. “What’s it like being in the middle of the ocean?”

She felt the tickle of his fingers running along her hairline as he answered. “Impending shark attacks aside, it’s hauntingly peaceful—alone on the sea, no land corralling you in, no demands other than to serve the boat and the wind and journey forth.”

He may have said more, but Trish didn’t hear. She drifted into a sound sleep and stayed that way until morning, awaking to an empty bed. Adam was already up, making noise in her tiny kitchen. She sat, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

He appeared around the corner with a steaming mug. “That’s a nice coffee maker.”

“Thanks,” she said through a half-stifled yawn. “My parents gave it to me last Christmas.”

“Will they be at the party today?”

“Mhmm. What time is it?”

“Time for you to get showered and dressed. Or you can stay cozy for a little longer, and I’ll take care of getting myself to my hotel and the airport.” He held the mug out toward her.

“I’m taking you,” she said, maneuvering to her feet and planting a kiss on his chin before taking the cup and disappearing into the bathroom for a quick shower and blow dry.

She emerged to find him sitting at the bistro table, looking at his phone. He was back in his clothes from the day before with not a hint of rumply about him.

“I never said thanks for bringing me coffee.” She came over and sat on his lap, effectively shoving aside his phone as he gave her his full attention. “Are you sorry you came here last night?”

“In some ways,” he said. “I’m glad we didn’t end things on a strained note, but this isn’t going to make it any easier to say goodb—”

Her mouth was on his. She didn’t want to hear him say the word. He returned the kiss, almost fiercely, cradling the back of her head and holding her waist tightly against him. She didn’t notice their mingled coffee breath, only tasted the essence of him, only felt the security of his firm hold on her.

Reluctantly pulling back, Trish said, “We’d better get to the car rental place.”

They walked a few blocks to pick up a compact sedan and drove to the Loop. Sunday traffic was light, so they soon stepped into Adam’s hotel room. It was a nice room, but nothing extravagant. Upon entering, Adam had gone immediately to the desk and scooped up an array of papers, placing them inside the briefcase that sat on the floor. He then set his suitcase on the bed, filling it with various pieces of clothing and other items from around the room. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to shower quickly and change before heading out.”

“That’s fine,” Trish said. “I’ll amuse myself by snooping through all your stuff while you’re in there.”

“I’m afraid you’d find none of it amusing,” he said. “I’ll only be ten minutes.”

When the bathroom door clicked shut, Trish pulled her phone out of her purse and texted Lyssa.

Guess whose hotel room I’m in right now.

Perching at the end of the bed, she flicked on the TV to keep herself entertained while she waited for her friend’s response.

Mr. H?

Yup.

You’ve been re-deflowered?

Nope. :(

But you wanted to be?

Yep.

What happened?

Too gentlemanly.

Adam wasn’t joking about being quick. He came out of the bathroom looking as pulled together as ever. Trish put away the phone and ignored the beep of a new message from Lyssa. She’d get back to her later. Right now she had to go get her heart ripped out.

It was good that the morning had been a rushed series of events because she hadn’t had time to think. But now they were on the last leg. This drive would end with her pulling up to a curb, him getting out of the car, and then maybe never seeing him again. She refused to let their drive to the airport turn melancholy. Instead, she babbled—about the weather, about the family she’d see that afternoon—and didn’t acknowledge in any way that everything between them would change after this.

But why did it have to? She’d always said her rules were arbitrary, there to be broken if ever she felt like it. God, did she feel like it now. The trouble was, he had rules and reasons of his own. Maybe one of those reasons was that he didn’t feel as strongly as she did. That kiss this morning had certainly made it seem as if he did, though…

They arrived at O’Hare and sped along the circling drive. Big blue signs showed exactly which lane she needed to be in to drop him off, but at the last second, she jerked the wheel to careen into the lane that would take her to parking. She slid the compact rental in front of a huge SUV and had to gun it to avoid getting smashed.

“I’m parking,” she said, glancing sideways at Adam. He’d blanched and locked a horrified stare on the windshield. “Sorry. Impulse decision.” He didn’t say a word, even after she’d parked. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head and his throat tightened in a swallow. “I’m fine.”

“Would you rather I didn’t walk you in?”

A deep inhale and exhale returned his color to normal. “That’s not it. I’d very much like for you to walk me in—if it won’t make you late for your party.”

She nodded. A knot suddenly clotted her throat, preventing speech. They got out of the car and walked to the terminal in silence.
This is so stupid; this is so stupid,
she kept repeating to herself, though she wasn’t sure what was stupid—that they were going to go through with saying goodbye or that she was having such a problem with it. As Adam had said, she’d put her rules in place for a reason.

While Adam went to the counter to check his luggage, she reviewed her very good reasons for limiting relationships. Fourth dates were where the trouble started. That’s when expectations set in, and she was never good at meeting guys’ expectations. The only reason she wanted to continue seeing Adam Helms was probably because she knew he didn’t want to continue seeing her. The moment he expressed interest in a future together, she was certain she’d fall back into her familiar pattern of cut and run. She just had to tough it out today. After enough time had passed, she’d be grateful she’d stuck to the plan.

His luggage was whisked away. He’d be the next thing to vanish. Silence seemed to be their new form of communication. He walked over, and without a word wrapped his hands around the back of her arms, tilting his head down so that when she angled her face toward him, their foreheads rested against each other. Trish’s eyelids fluttered closed in a failed attempt to hold in her tears. They leaked out the corners of her eyelids, sliding in warm trails down her cheeks.

The smooth, mellow essence of Adam’s cologne enveloped her. It was a scent she’d gladly stay wrapped in forever. The bustling airport became nothing but white noise as the two of them stood together for endless seconds, delaying the final pull away. Maybe if they stayed here, simply didn’t move, the date wouldn’t end and she’d never have to say goodbye.

“I never let a woman pay on a date,” he whispered, his fingers flinching but not releasing their grip on her arms.

She opened her eyes at the odd statement, jerking her head back to look at him. “Uh…good for you?” She swiped her fingertips at her tears.

“You picked up the tab. On our first date.” His grip tightened, and his eyes flashed. “But it wasn’t a date because I
never let the woman pay
.” His mouth stretched into a wide grin.

Trish studied his gleeful features. Her budding concern for his sanity evaporated when she caught on. “This wasn’t our third date!”

“No, it was only the second.”

“We’ve got one more.” She threw her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his across her back, squeezing her to him.

“One more,” he murmured. There was warmth in his tone but also caution.

They each had their rules and reasons for not letting this go further than a few, fun dates. If it was this hard to say goodbye now, how much harder would it be after spending even more time together? With her mouth at his ear, Trish whispered, “Is this a bad idea?”

“Potentially.” Their arms loosened, and they slid apart. Their fingers apparently didn’t agree with the separation and intertwined. His forehead pinched. “I need to start making my way through security.”

“Okay. So is this…are we…”

“It’s up to you.” His intense eyes watched her, not blinking.

Did he want her to say yes to one more date or was he hoping she’d say no? What she read in his expression was a mixture of both. The idea of telling him no physically hurt from the pit of her stomach to the fingertips that so desperately clung to him.

“I really need to go,” he said.

She felt his hands slip away from hers. “One more!” she practically yelped.

He smiled and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, touching his lips to hers in a swift, gentle kiss. “I’ll be in touch.”

She walked him to the security line. Before she let him leave her, she grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him to her for one final kiss. Stepping back to let others pass, she watched him weave his way through the tethers and scans. She stayed rooted until his very last molecule was out of her sight.

As she drove to her brother’s house, she cast doubt aside. It wasn’t as if they were abandoning the plan entirely. They were merely extending it based on a technicality. What harm could come from one more little date?

Chapter 15