The Collision on Hardwood Drive (8 page)

Claire laughed. “What
about
Joe?”

I laughed, too, as I told her about the text message. “So
, now, he wants to do coffee and, honestly, I think I’m going to do it. Considering the fact that he’s like the anti-Rob, he could be exactly what I need.”

Claire snorted this time. “Well, I guess trying couldn’t hurt. I just don’t know if
Joe
is really going to butter your biscuit. He seems a little… bland.”

“I don’t know—maybe I
need
someone less intense. Maybe bland would be good for me,” I said, knowing that it probably wasn’t, even as I said the words.

“Maybe, maybe,” Claire said, allowing me to think that at least for a moment. “I don’t know, hon. Just don’t write
Rob off yet, all right? Sleep on it. See how you feel over the next few days. If you’re still thinking about him—call him.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, “but no promises.”

“That’s my girl!” Claire said. I knew she would have given me a huge, congratulatory hug if she were here. “It sure is about time
somebody
buttered your biscuit. I bet it’ll be the best sex you’ve ever had.”

I laughed, trying not to think about how right she probably was. “Good
night
, Claire.”

The cool hardness of the car pressed up against my bare skin.
Rob’s mouth found my taut nipple, savoring it hungrily as he glided inside me, his hips moving in sync with my thrusts. I ran my hands up his strong chest and his tight muscles, feeling the straining tension under his skin as he pulled me in toward him by the back of my neck, gently. His warm mouth opened against mine, the long and sensual kiss making me moan as my wetness allowed him to speed up, pleasure spreading through my body.

“Just like that, Stephanie,”
Rob whispered. “Just like that. Fucking you feels so good. There’s only you.”

The cool breeze teased our bodies as he hoisted me onto the hood of the car, letting me wrap my legs around his waist. His hands curled around my buttocks
, as my soaked breasts bounced , his lithe body grounding into mine. He laid me across the hood and pulled out, making me ache for him and gasp when he reentered seconds later—bigger and stiffer than before, my body charged with arousal as I begged, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

He towered
over me, his ripped body engulfing mine. “You belong to me.” The pulses of pleasure shooting through my body became waves as I felt him throb. My breathing intensified, and I raised my hips to him, opening myself—

The bright light of morning flooded my bedroom, jolting me awake and ripping me out of my dream. I could still feel the cold metal of my car against my skin. I flung myself back against my pillows, sighing.
God
—public sex with Rob? I groaned. I had thought I was doing
such
an amazing job of forgetting about him these past few days.

I threw myself into rehearsals instead of dwelling on dreams I couldn’t control
, anyway. I filled my evenings with happy hours with the coworkers, attempting to occupy every spare second of my time. For a while, it worked.

Every
so often, a flash of Rob’s rakish smile consumed me—or I tasted the smoky flavor of his tongue in my mouth. But I would shut it out, forcibly and swiftly. Until this morning, apparently. I guess you could only ignore Rob Huntley for so long before he took control and drove his way into your subconscious.

I stepped into the shower, hoping to bring myself back to reality and wake myself from that lusty dream. I soaped up, scrubbing myself furiously as though I were trying to wash away every trace of
Rob that remained on my skin. I stood under the boiling hot water, wishing it would wash my desire away.

I allowed myself to indulge, briefly, by running a slippery finger between my legs and plunging it into my swollen need.
Nice try, Steph.

It did nothing to stifle my arousal. Despite my wishes to let it all go, I also couldn’t help wishing that
Rob were in the shower with me. I wished he would put his hands all over me and lather my body with soap, pressing me hard against the tiles. Well, so much for trying to forget about him.

“
Rob,” I said with a heavy sigh.

When I got out, a thin towel wrapped around my dripping body, I heard my phone vibrate. “Speak of the devil,” I whispered when I saw that it was a text from
Rob. I had to give it to him. The man had great timing.

I opened the text and read each word slowly, almost cautiously.
I can’t stop thinking about you. I know we just met, but I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life. God, I miss you.

I had to sit down on my bed to study myself for a long moment. The urgency in his text was the exact same urgency that had plagued my dream last night. I hated to admit it, but I also felt
as if I’d known him my whole life. After last night’s dream, I knew I would share anything with him—and more than anything, I wanted to share my body.

My resolve was wavering. I remembered Claire’s words clearly in that moment:
If you’re still thinking about him—call him.

Yet
, I still felt scared. I needed another pep talk from Claire. I ignored Rob’s text for a moment and sent one of my own to Claire.
Coffee today?

I can do 4:30,
she replied within minutes.
How about Raymond’s?

See you there
, I said. I could go for a latte, and Raymond’s was our favorite shop.
I have updates on Rob—get ready.

Can’t wait.

I spent the morning down at the studio to get in an extra round of rehearsals. Paul had given us the day off, but I needed to focus on something other than that text from Rob. I pushed the door to the auditorium open, expecting to have the place to myself. To my surprise, the design team was there. They seemed to be putting the finishing touches on the set pieces. I thought they’d finished earlier in the week, but I guess they still had a few spots to tidy.

Fuck
, I thought when the realization that Joe would be there hit me. In my desperate attempts to ignore Rob, I had also managed to forget about Joe—namely, that I never texted him back.

Well,
I thought to myself, trying to justify my actions,
if he was interested, he should have texted me again. I know Rob would have.

I couldn’t shake the guilt, though. Joe was just polite. He probably didn’t want to bother me.

I managed to spend the morning rehearsing in a private back room without any interruptions from the design team. It occurred to me that Joe might not even be there that day—but sure enough, he walked in just as I was packing my bags.

“Stephanie, hey!” he said
. “I didn’t think any cast was going to be here today.”

“Hi, Joe,” I said, giving him a quick hug. He wrapped his arms around, seemingly eager for the contact. I tried not to flinch away. “It’s just me today. I thought I’d sneak in a few extra hours.”

He smiled at me for a moment, almost expectantly. I wasn’t sure what to say, what he
wanted
me to say.

“Well,” I started, hesitantly. “I better get going.”

“Sure—yeah. Don’t let me keep you,” he said. He paused for a moment before continuing, “Well, wait—what are you doing today?”

Shit
. Then, I realized that this might be the perfect chance to take him up on that coffee invite—see where this goes before making any bad decisions with Rob.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, trying to make it sound
as if the thought just occurred to me. “Actually, I was meeting a girlfriend for coffee this afternoon—would you like to come with us?”

I could kill two birds with one stone like this. I’d get the chance to see if I enjoyed Joe’s company outside the studio
,
and
I could get Claire’s opinion of him—perfect.

Joe’s face reddened slightly, making his blonde hair look even paler.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’d really like that—thanks.”

“Great,” I said, smiling. “We’re meeting at 4:30
p.m. at Raymond’s. It’s not gourmet Italian coffee, but it’s not bad. Do you know the place? It’s on Delancey.”

He nodded, excitement flooding his expression. It was sweet how pleased he seemed to have been invited. “Sounds great. I’ll see you there.”

I arrived at Raymond’s before Joe, but after Claire. She was already waiting out front, looking fabulously chic as usual. She flashed her signature grin and winked at me as I approached her. She threw her arms around me and said, her voice booming, “Hey, babycakes! What’s new?”

“Shh, inside voices,” I said, pulling her into the coffee shop with me. “So, I ran into Joe at the studio this morning.”

“Joe?” she asked, her face clearly stating that the name was unfamiliar to her.

“
Really
, Claire?” I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. “Come on, the set designer from the Academy. He asked me to coffee. Nice guy, anti-Rob. Seriously, you don’t remember any of that? Why do I even bother?”

Recognition finally passed over her features. “Oh, shit, sorry—that part of the story
wasn’t quite as memorable as the part about Rob Huntley. You know, the sex god.”

I smothered another laugh against the palm of my hand. “Oh, God, stop it! And
start
to remember Joe because he’s on his way here. He asked me what I was doing this afternoon, and I told him I was going out for coffee with you. I figured you’d want to meet him, anyway. Let me know what you think.”

Claire smiled mischievously. “Oh, I would
love
to meet Joe,” she drawled, conjuring up her best Southern belle persona.

“Be nice,” I said, trying to reprimand her as a mother might. “Please, Claire. He’s a sweetheart!”

She smiled back, feigning sweetness. “I’m
always
nice, Steph,” she said innocently.

I rolled my eyes. Claire’s biting wit usually came out to play in situations like this. She only used it when she thought it was called for, but she usually thought it was called
for.

Joe arrived at the coffee shop just a few minutes past four-thirty. He looked a little flustered, as if he’d just sprinted to get here.
“Sorry, Steph,” he said as soon as he saw us. “I got a little lost on the way here.”

I shook my head and told him it was fine, introducing him to Claire instead of letting him ramble. I noticed how he shook her
hand—weak and limp. Claire was old school and judged people on the strength of their handshake.

We sat down at a table by the window after we ordered our drinks. Claire asked all the appropriate getting-to-know-you questions, playing nice for now. Joe deflected every single question, though, choosing to answer with one or two words
, at most.

I studied Joe’s face, hoping to feel even a fraction of the attraction I felt when I was with
Rob. There wasn’t anything
wrong
with him, of course, but I felt no spark. There was no fluttering in my nether regions. In fact, my nether regions were as dry as a Mormon’s 21
st
birthday party.

I tried giving him the benefit of the doubt—maybe it just took him a while to feel comfortable around new people. Maybe it would just take
me
a while to warm up to him. Unfortunately, one of the first questions he asked me after he’d stonewalled Claire did not bode well for a future that included any element of
us
.

“Stephanie, I’ve been meaning to ask
, how come a great girl like you is still single?” he asked.

That was
always
an awkward question. What he really meant—what every man always meant—was
what’s your damage?

I decided to deflect
his
question—turnabout is fair play, after all. “Do you really want to know why I’m single?” I asked, sighing dramatically.

Joe nodded, taking the bait.

“It’s my third nipple. Some guys just can’t handle it,” I said, completely straight-facedly. Joe looked horrified—at least, he did until Claire burst out laughing.

“Kidding
,” I said, deciding to take pity on him. “Why? What’s
your
damage? Why are
you
still single?”

As soon as Joe opened his mouth, I knew that
I
was the one who asked the wrong question. I tried not to cringe as he began to speak.

“Man, you know, I wonder that all the time. I seriously think it’s because I’m too nice,” he said.

Oh, boy, here we go.

“Women don’t really want nice guys. They want assholes to treat them like shit. Know how I know?”

He didn’t wait for me to guess, and he
definitely
didn’t give me the chance to tell him I didn’t
care
how he thought he knew.