Just Fooling Around(26)

And manage it, she had. Never once would she have believed she had it in her to go after a man the way she had, but this was Evan, the man she’d wanted beyond all others. Once she saw it in his eyes—once she knew that at least a little, he wanted her, too—she found the courage to do what needed to be done, despite Cam, despite curses, despite Evan’s own loyalty to the fraternal boys’ order of best friends.

She was a seductress, she thought with a smile. Only this seductress was currently without a place to seduce, and that simply wouldn’t do.

The fire escape looked solid enough. But it also looked entirely unconnected to the interlocking pieces of scaffoldlike grating that formed the fire escape leading from the various apartments. “How are we supposed to get from here to your place?” It was an important question. Because right then, she wanted nothing more than to be inside his apartment. Specifically, she wanted to be inside his bedroom. And barring that, she might just have to jump him on the fire escape.

Frankly, that iron grating didn’t look all that comfortable…

He squeezed in beside her, his proximity making her feel warm and gooey, and she realized that she was smiling. This was luck. Heck, it was more than luck—it was perfection. The one man she’d wanted for as long as she could remember, and she was actually going to have him. In bed. Soon.

Hopefully.

She frowned at the fire escape. “Maybe we should go to a hotel,” she suggested.

“It’s a thought,” he said. “But we’re here, and odds are good my window’s not locked.”

He climbed past her onto the grating, then held out a hand to help her. She followed eagerly, slowing only when she felt a tug near her butt and heard the distinctive rrrriiiiipppp of tearing denim.

“Nail,” she said.

His grin flashed. “There you go. More evidence of bad luck for my article.”

She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him, making her expression purposefully haughty. “Is that a fact? I’d think you’d see it as good news.” She turned so that her rear was aimed at him, then bent over a bit so the material stretched, opening the newly created hole and revealing the elastic leg-hole of her panty and the curve of her butt. “After all, it’s one more way into my pants.”

The air between them sizzled. “Darcy?” he said, his voice rough.

“Yeah?”

“We need to get into my apartment. Now.”

Her breath shook as she tried to steady herself. “There?” she said, nodding at the grating to her left, about three feet over and a few feet higher than the grating on which they stood. “That’s it,” he said. “Easy.”

She glanced at the concrete ledge that protruded from the building, then watched as he stepped onto a milk crate someone had left on the fire escape as a seat. He stepped onto the ledge, held on to a steel pin that protruded from the brick and took one long step over to his own fire escape landing.

He was right. It looked damn easy.

“As soon as you’re on the ledge,” he said, “I can take your hand.”

“Right. No problem.”

She was wearing black boots with a narrow heel—she’d splurged on them since she’d thought she’d be going to the theater—and she had to admit they weren’t the best for scaling buildings. But she was only going up and over—not any more involved than climbing a set of stairs.

After a quick mental pep talk, she climbed onto the milk crate, then lifted her left leg to the ledge.

“Other leg,” he said. “You’re facing the wrong direction.”

“Oh.”

She hadn’t been paying attention, but now that she looked, she saw what he meant. “No problem.” She tried to turn, got her heel caught on an indentation in the ledge, felt the heel break, and then caught that protruding steel bar in the nick of time as her body went sliding off the ledge. Evan’s shout filling the air.

“Evan!” She realized she was screaming, but wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about it. Dangling five floors above the apartment courtyard was plenty scream-worthy.

She didn’t, however, have to scream for long. Because just as she was wondering how on earth she was going to manage to hang on to that tiny little steel rod, Evan’s warm arm wrapped around her.

“I’ve got you,” he said. He was clutching tight to his fire escape with one hand, while the other held her tight. “I won’t ever let go,” he added, and she believed him. More than anyone in her life, she believed that he’d always be there to catch her.

With his help, she managed to get back onto the ledge, regain her balance, then cross over to him. Throughout all of that, she kept her composure. But as soon as they were on his landing—as soon as her feet were on solid ground—she clung to him. Not in tears. Not in terror. But in the urgent, desperate need to show him exactly how she felt about him. To demonstrate with her body how she would give everything to him, just like he’d promised everything to her with those five simple words.