“Stop it,” I hissed vehemently.
“Let me get it right this time,” he said. I looked up to see him coming at me full force, his lips crashing down to mine. I yelped, and he used it to his advantage as he thrust his tongue in deeply, taking my breath away. I sank against the elevator as he made love to my mouth urgently and said a quick “I’m not giving up,” then let me go abruptly before the doors opened to let others on. I stood gasping and mourning the loss of him as the new crowd of riders stared at me oddly. I recovered, mumbling “Texas heat” as I fanned myself. A few of them nodded, and one commented, “Supposed to reach one hundred and four today.” Dean didn’t bother to mask his laughter as he eyed me. When we were alone again, I glared at him while he whistled. I got out on my floor, flipping him off before the doors closed.
I heard Beatrice laughing hysterically as she caught my obscene gesture. I turned to see her hands up in defense as I gave her the evil eye. “What did he do?”
I shook my head as I pulled my phone out of my pocket to send a quick text.
DALLAS: I don’t want to be your friend.
DEAN: That makes two of us.
DALLAS: That’s not what I meant. Keep your hands and mouth off of me! It’s assault!
DEAN: That’s not what your tongue told me.
DALLAS: Go to hell.
DEAN: I was there yesterday, naked and on top of you.
I let out a frustrated groan as I threw up my hands. I spent the latter part of my shift cursing in frustration as I finished my charts alone in my office.
“I love you, I’ve always loved you, you own my heart, I have never loved anyone else.”—Laura (Room 212)
Dallas
Now
Sunday, I was at my mom’s, waiting on the arrival of my sister and her future husband. I spent the day decorating the house for the celebration, helping her cut roses from the garden and arranging them throughout the lower level of our family home. It looked absolutely perfect by the time guests started to arrive. Most were friends of Rose, whom I’d met throughout the years, and a few friends of Grant. I’d learned from my mom that Grant had recently been orphaned after his dad’s recent passing and had no other living relatives. His mom had passed a few years prior, and besides the few friends invited here today, my sister was all he had left. I felt a certain level of sympathy and protectiveness for his and my sister’s bond before I’d even had a chance to meet him. I hoped I would feel the same as my mom and be able to embrace this stranger enough to trust him with the happiness of the person closest to me.
I opened the door for the next guest and froze. “Dean, what are you doing here?” He looked absolutely gorgeous in khaki slacks and a white button-down shirt. He held a case of expensive champagne and gave me a knowing smile. I was instantly on guard.
“You look beautiful. Mind if I set this down?” I opened the door to usher him in, then greeted the people waiting behind him.
“Jennifer,” I said, greeting Rose’s roommate and her longtime boyfriend, Alex.
“Hey, Dallas,” she said as she walked in, holding his hand. “Are they here?”
“Not yet.” I smiled, grabbed the wine she offered then followed them in. “What do you think of him?”
“Just wait,” she said, giving me a wink. “You’ll love him, I promise.”
“So I hear.” I suddenly felt the overwhelming guilt of not having met him. It seemed I would be the last one. Dean walked back to me from the kitchen, his scent intoxicating me. I was dressed in a floor-length taupe dress that highlighted the small amount of curves I had and was accented by a little bit of sexy with thigh-high slits on each side. I wore a pair of high-heeled wedge sandals that added height as I took Dean in at eye level. I’d worn my dark brown hair down in soft waves and applied light makeup—aside from a heavy emphasis on my green eyes. I felt feminine, a feeling I’d long missed since my daily wardrobe at home consisted of yoga pants. Dean’s appraisal of me now made me feel even more so.
“You look absolutely stunning,” he said as he walked up to me and gave me a brief hug in greeting.
“Thank you, you look nice as well,” I commented, letting my eyes take him in.
“I was invited,” he said carefully, as he weighed my reaction to him, “by your mom.”
“Of course you were,” I said in slight amusement.
“Dean! Oh, honey, you came!” My mom said, stepping between us to give him a long hug. I took a step back and blew out a frustrated breath as my mom rambled on.
“Dear God, you are gorgeous!” she complimented as she hugged him again, giving me a subtle wink. I rolled my eyes.
“Dean, what are you drinking?” I snapped rudely, which got me an amused look from both of them.
“Scotch?” he asked my mom, who nodded.