I covered my face with my hands. “What am I doing?”
He gently pulled my hands away. “What are you doing?” His eyes had changed from lustful to compassionate. I couldn’t battle this Josh.
“I came to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. Sorry for the mixed signals.” I laughed. “But apparently I jumped you instead, and now I’m sorry for that, too.”
“Sorry for jumping me?” His grin sent another hum through my stomach.
I lost all pretense. “No. I’m not sorry for jumping you. I’m sorry about my god-awful timing.”
His grin faltered. He stroked his thumb over my lips. “I told you I’m here for whatever you need, Ember. Jumping, apologies, whatever.”
Whatever. I needed him, but was too frightened of what that meant to acknowledge it, because more than anything, I needed myself. Why did it always feel like the part of me I needed was buried inside Josh?
“I’d better get back to studying.” My excuse sounded lame even to my ears.
He stepped back. “I’d better get in the shower.”
“Didn’t you just…?”
His eyes sparkled with intensity, and I had to control every muscle to keep from diving for him and his offer of the bedroom. “Yeah, but I think I need another one at a different temperature.”
Josh Walker was taking a cold shower for me? Maybe I could jump in behind him and warm up the water . . . “Oh. I’m sorry about that, too.” Not really.
A slow, sexy smile spread across his face. “I’m not.” He backed me into the wall again and leaned down, hovering right above my mouth. I was not going to give in again; I wasn’t strong enough to step away twice, and I wasn’t ready for a relationship. “If you apologize like that, feel free to treat me like shit any time you want. I will be your personal doormat.”
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips.
“I have to go.” I breathed unevenly. I had to get away . . . before I didn’t.
He opened the door for me and watched until I was walking into my apartment. “Hey, December?”
I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want to see his half-naked body on display, or the lines of the tattoo I craved to trace with my tongue. “Yeah?”
“I hope you sleep better than I do.”
The change in topics threw me. “You’re not sleeping?”
He slowly shook his head. “Knowing my bedroom backs up to yours, that you’re only a wall away, lying in bed, makes that pretty fucking impossible.”
Every muscle in my body loosened, tingles of energy rushing through me. Could a girl orgasm from words? A charged silence passed between us.
“’Night.”
It was my turn to stare until he shut the door behind him. I stumbled into our apartment, shutting the door behind me, then sinking to the floor. Sam popped around the corner, her hair styled and makeup half done. “Did you apologize?”
I could have denied what had happened, but if I was going to choose a friend to trust, then Sam was the perfect candidate. She’d never betrayed me once in our five years of friendship. “If by apologize, you mean nearly swallowing his tongue and debating if I should remove his pants with my hands or teeth?”
“Nuh-uh!” She pulled me off the floor and wrapped her arm around me. “Oh, girl, you’d better dish.” She plopped me down on her bed and went back to the vanity, watching my reflection as she expertly applied her makeup.
“I’m not even sure what to say.”
She turned in her seat. “How about you start with how you finally got the guy you drooled all over freshman year?”
Freshman year. I hadn’t just drooled all over him, I’d fantasized about him, written his last name attached to mine in the back of my English notebook. He’d been total teenage girl drool material, but it hadn’t been the eight-pack abs from the weight room that got me. No, his devil-may-care grin was what drew me to him, the way he never seemed to care what social norm dictated.
“Earth to Ember.”
“Hmmm?”
“Lost in Josh-land?”
“Just thinking about how things have changed. Five years ago I never would have had the guts to even speak to Josh.” Oh no, our social orbits were nowhere near each other. He had been the sun, and I had been somewhere like Pluto, trying, but still not even a planet.
“Remember when I dared you to ask him to Sadie Hawkins?” She applied her mascara like the cosmetic expert she was.
The memory swept over me, and I laughed. “Thank God I found out Vickie Brasier already had! Could you have imagined the utter embarrassment?”
“Well, now you’re hooking up with him!”
I grimaced. “Not exactly hooked up. More like . . . half hooked up?”
She waggled her finger at me. “You let that man get away without snatching a piece?”
“He kind of turned me down.” Could she hear the sheer mortification coming through the high pitch of my voice? I sure could.
“Huh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She went back to her mascara. “It’s just that he has kind of the same reputation here as he did in high school. The girls chase him, and he lets them ‘catch’, if you will. He’s the perfect rebound guy for you, actually. He doesn’t tend to go back to pastures he’s already grazed. Hmmmm.”
“Sam, spit it out!”