I stop and turn at the sound of his voice, soaking it up, thirsty for it.
His arms are by his sides now. His expression is a little softer.
"Do you want to come in?" he asks, and my heart leaps.
I smile. "Yes."
I walk back to him, and he moves aside, letting me into his apartment.
Sweet Jesus, his open-plan living room and kitchen is the size of my entire apartment and my neighbor's apartment, put together.
"Where's Missy?" I ask him.
"At Zeus and Cam's." Cam is Zeus's fiancée and mother of their children. "She's babysitting for them. Staying the night." He shuts the door and moves past me. "Do you want anything to drink?" he asks.
"Water would be great. Thanks."
He walks over into the kitchen area, and I toe off my sneakers. His cherry-wood floors are too nice to walk outside dirt on.
I step further into his apartment, over to the window by the kitchen, taking in the view.
"You have a really nice place," I tell him when I hear him approaching. I turn, taking the glass of water he's holding out for me. My finger brushes his, causing a zing to fly up my arm.
Ares doesn't say anything. He just leans his ass against the counter, eyes watching me.
I take a sip of water and then rest my lower back against the window ledge as I cradle the glass to my chest. Desperately trying not to look at his bare chest. It's harder than you'd think.
I'm blaming his nakedness for my brain fry and word vomit from a few minutes ago.
How is a girl supposed to think straight with all this smooth, golden skin in front of her?
Now that he's closer, I can see that he has a fine smatter of dark hairs on his chest.
It makes him even hotter.
But I'm not here to think about his hotness. I'm here to make sure I haven't screwed up our friendship with my lack of honesty.
And I'm clearly doing a shitty job of not trying to stare at his chest.
I lift my eyes to his face, and I see a raised brow and a spark of smug humor in his expression.
He totally knows I was checking him out.
My cheeks heat.
I take another drink of water.
"So … " I say.
"So … " he echoes.
"I'm sorry."
"You already said."
"I did. I just wanted to say it again."
"Okay." He nods.
No, I accept your apology, Jailbird, or, You're forgiven. I totally understand.
Frustration burns my cheeks.
"You look annoyed." There's almost humor in his words.
"I'm not annoyed." Another sip of my water.
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Good. Because it would be a bit shitty of you to be annoyed with me after what you did-"
"I said I was sorry!"
"Jailbird."
"What?"
"I'm fucking with you."
I meet his eyes, which are now much softer and smiling at me. "Ass."
"True." He chuckles. "Thank you for coming here and telling me all of that. I appreciate you being honest with me. But don't lie to me again. I hate being lied to. Even if you think it's something I won't want to hear, I would rather hear it. So, full disclosure from here on out. Okay?"
He's still my friend. My happy heartbeat is a palpable force in my chest.
"Okay." I smile. "Full disclosure."
There's a beat of silence between us.
"So, that guy … "
"Luke."
"He's your sponsor?"
"Yes."
"And you guys aren't … "
"No! God, no! That's not allowed. Totally unethical. But, even if it weren't … he's not my type."
"Oh. Well … who is your type?"
You, apparently.
Shit. I just agreed to full disclosure, no more lies. But I can't tell him that he's my type because I'm not his; it'd be awkward as hell, and then I'd definitely lose him as a friend.
I shrug with a noncommittal answer. "Uh … um … guys."
His brow lifts. "What type of guys?"
Jesus. My whole body is getting hot. My face must be the color of a tomato right now.
"Ones who … don't drink."
"I don't drink."
"You don't?"
I didn't know that. We haven't been anywhere where he would drink. But I just assumed he did. I don't know why I thought that. He's not exactly a fan of alcohol.
Alcoholics. You're getting them confused, Ari.
"Nope," he says.
"Okay … " I trail off.
"So, what other qualities do your type of guys have to have?"
"Why do you want to know?" I'm skirting the question because I can't think of anything else to say that won't expose my feelings for him.
"I'm curious."
"You know what curiosity did-"
"I'll take my chances." He shrugs, a grin on his lips.
"Uh … " I rake my fingers into my messy bun, tugging on it. "They just have to … I don't know. Like me. Like who I am. Baggage and all."
He nods, his eyes holding mine. "You're right. He should."
My chest is starting to feel tight. I rub my hand over the ache.
"Do you want to know what my type is?" he asks.
Nope. Because the last thing I want to hear is you describe the exact opposite of me.
"Uh, sure." I stop rubbing the ache and wrap my arm over my chest, ready to protect myself from the intentional blows he's about to throw at me.
"Usually, I go for blondes. Tall. Leggy. You know the type."
The exact opposite of me then.
I bite the inside of my cheek and make a sound of agreement.
"Women with zero baggage. Who aren't too interested in commitment, as I've really never had time for a relationship-actually, no, that's not right. What I should've said is that I'd never met anyone I wanted to make time to have a relationship with."
I nod, still biting the inside of my cheek. I'm pretty sure it's bleeding.
"But that's changed now."
"You've met someone?" I blurt out.
He nods, steady blue eyes holding mine. "Yes."
Knife, meet my heart.
But, of course, this was going to happen at some point, if we were going to be friends. I mean, look at him, for God's sake. He's gorgeous, smart, and talented, and he has a good heart once you get past the assholery. It's not like he was going to stay single forever. I guess I just didn't expect it to happen quite so soon. And when the hell did he meet her? It's not like he's with me all the time, but this last week, we've spent quite a lot of time together at my place, watching Dexter. And, in that time, he's never let on that there's been anyone … a woman in his life.
Jesus.
God, just the thought of it hurts. What will it be like when I have to see him with her? She must be tall and beautiful and have her shit completely together. Unlike me.
I don't think I can do this.
Yes, you can. You're his friend. So, be his friend. Suck it up, Ari. It's big-girl panties time.
"Wow. That's great. I'm really happy for you."
Okay, so that wasn't so great. I sounded insincere as hell. And, if I could hear the insincerity in my voice, then he probably did, too.
But, if he did hear it, he doesn't call me on it, which I'm grateful for.
"Well, don't be too happy for me. She doesn't know how I feel yet … and she might not feel the same way."
She will. Trust me.
"I'm sure she will. You should tell her." I nearly bite through my lip when I say that.
Why did I say that?
"You're right." He nods, still staring at me. Actually, he hasn't moved his eyes off me once since this whole conversation started. "It's funny though," he continues, "because of what I said before-you know, about what my usual type is. Well, this girl is the exact opposite of that. She's brunette. Short as hell. Filthy mouth on her. Has baggage bigger than JFK. We do, however, share the same taste in movies and music-well, apart from NSYNC … "
I suck in a sharp breath.
He can't mean …
Was Luke right that Ares might see me as more than a friend?
Surely not.
"Actually, she looks and sounds an awful lot like you."
Holy shit.
"I-I don't … understand."
He pushes off the counter, walking over to me. He takes the glass from my trembling hand, setting it on the window ledge. Then, he takes my face in his hands, tilts it up to his, and stares down into my eyes. "Then, let me make it very simple for you." And he leans down and covers my mouth with his.
Ares Kincaid is kissing me.
He's kissing me.
Actually, mouth on mine, kissing me.
Duh. Where else would he be kissing you? Well, there are other places …
Nope. Not going to go there. Because I'll definitely get my panties in a twist if I do.
I just … can't believe this is happening. One minute, I'm thinking he's into some other woman … and then this.