30 Days (5 page)

“I'm sure she'll get over it.”

Harrison moved a bit closer, and for a moment he was the only thing I could focus on. The size of his chest and arms. The spice of his aftershave. The way his nearness made my pussy tingle in a way it hadn't in years. I knew if I closed my eyes, it would be easy to imagine what his body would feel like pressed against mine, sweat-soaked. If I'd been thinking, I would have grabbed him back at the club and made him dance with me. How would it have felt to have had Harrison's hands on my hips rather than Marcus's?

“You really should be more careful when you're out on your own though.” He smiled, but the light in his eyes dimmed. “I didn't realize how rough that place got or else I'd never have brought my clients there. Thankfully, they're more flexible than others.”

It's amazing how quickly a man can turn a woman off without even trying. “Pardon me?”

I'm not sure if he realized that he'd entered the Danger Zone with me, because he'd kept right on trucking. “It's important to do your research. I'm new to town. You're just getting yourself out there. It's easy to make mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” My grip tightened on my cup. At least this time it wasn't coffee.

“If you don't want to be rescued, that is. You're a single woman, and I'd guess you don't have a lot of experience. You need to do your homework first—”

I never gave him the chance to dig himself back out of his hole. Like a scene from a movie, I threw my beer in his face. The amber liquid coated his skin and spread out across his no-longer-white dress shirt. He blinked the beer away as his mouth fell open.

“How dare you?” I tossed my cup to the floor, not caring that everyone on the rooftop was staring at us. “You don't know the first thing about what I'm capable of doing or not doing. I've had to bury my husband when I was thirty-three. I've had to figure out how to legally declare someone dead. Have had to convince people that no, my husband isn't avoiding your call. He really is gone.”

Harrison reached for me. “Alyssa, I'm sorry—”

“No. You don't get to be sorry. You don't get to have any opinion at all. I'm leaving.”

I marched past everyone, doing my best to ignore their pitying looks. This was the last thing I wanted or needed. It was hard enough putting myself out there, only to be subjected to the opinions of strangers who thought they knew what was best for me.

“Alyssa!” Harrison called for me.

I stopped before I reached the exit, but I didn't turn around. “What?”

“For the record, I know you're more than capable of looking after yourself. But there's nothing wrong with asking for help.”

“Fuck you.”

Fighting the urge to cry, I marched back to my condo.

6

I
'd been standing in front of Harrison's front door for the better part of ten minutes, wondering how much of an ass he thought I was. God, I'd had my moments of being an idiot in the past, but this was the first time I'd embarrassed myself this badly. I had no choice but to apologize—he hadn't deserved me losing my shit on him like that, and at the very least I owed him a new shirt.

It was also a waste of good beer. Even if it was too hoppy.

I huffed and shuffled from foot to foot. There was no way this was going to get any easier. I needed to smarten up, apologize, and move on to the next step. If that was with Harrison, then great. But the only way I was going to find out was to talk to him. In order for that to happen I had to act.

Holding my breath, I closed my eyes and knocked. My stomach churned and I couldn't stop my fingers from flexing around the index card I'd brought with me. I had no doubt that I was the last person Harrison wanted to see. But I usually tried to be honest with myself, if no one else. I knew deep down that my anger had nothing to do with what Harrison had said, and everything to do with how he made me feel.

I had a thing for him. Purely lust.

It pissed me off as much as it terrified me.

In the twenty minutes I'd paced around my condo, my mind had spun around, shifting from anger, to embarrassment, to the thought of what to do with Rob's cards. I'd stopped pacing, picked up the deck, and knew that if I was actually going to try this, Harrison was my best option.

Well, he was a safe option. Not to mention that he checked off a lot of my mental boxes when it came to finding someone to explore this with.

Close by. Hot. Not a complete creep. Hot. Will be gone in a few months.

Hot.

Was this cheating? It felt that way even though Rob was not only gone, but had more than given me his permission to do this very thing. So why did it feel like I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life in taking Rob's advice?

If nothing else, even if he turned me down, Harrison struck me as the sort of man who'd have some solid advice to offer on how to approach men. He was one, after all. Presumably, he knew what he liked from women. And his advice would be a hell of a lot more recent than what Mr. Le Page had to offer. Dinner and ballroom dancing lessons? Yeah no.

Really, I had nothing to lose.

Nope, nothing at all.

I got up the nerve to knock once more when Harrison didn't answer immediately. I was totally going to count to ten and then I was out of here. I could apologize the next time I saw him in the hall. Because clearly if he didn't show then this was the universe telling me that this was a bad idea.

One.

A really bad idea.

Two.

A really,
really
bad idea.

Three.

There was a thump somewhere beyond the door and I considered running away. Four. Maybe he hadn't heard the knock? I should probably knock again. Five. Right?

Sixseveneightnineten.
Oh well, guess he didn't hear me. Time to go.

I turned and managed to get five steps away before I heard the door open behind me.

“Come to toss another drink in my face?”

Now, I suspect there would be many men who wouldn't greet me with such a teasing voice after having had a pint of warm beer sloshed over them, but lucky for me Harrison didn't appear to be one of them. As much as I would have preferred to continue my retreat to the safety of my condo, I couldn't leave things on bad terms with him. If nothing else, he was my neighbor and I needed to act like a good one. Without thinking too much about it, I lowered my head and shuffled my way back. I said nothing until I was standing directly in front of him.

“Alyssa?”

I looked up and did my best impression of a smile. Shit, he was still wearing his beer-soaked shirt. “Hi. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Reaching up to bracket the doorframe with his hands, Harrison cocked his head to the side and grinned. “I was about to get changed. I had a bit of an accident.”

My face was hot and if there'd been a way I could have hidden my blush I would have. “I'm so sorry about that.”

“Don't be. I was being an ass.” He let his hands drop but didn't move back. “You okay?”

“Besides feeling like a jerk for dumping a beer on you? Oh yeah, peachy.” The index card was starting to curl from my sweaty palm. “I actually came because I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?”

“Sounds serious.”

“Not really. Well maybe. I just . . . I need a fresh perspective on this. I don't really know you and weirdly enough that kind of works in your favor. I think. I don't know.”

“Like I said, sounds serious.” He hesitated for a moment before he stepped back and waved me in. “Mind if I get a clean shirt first?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

It was weird crossing the threshold into his place. I'm not sure what I'd been expecting the inside of Harrison's condo to be like, but it wasn't this crazy mess. There were the standard framed pictures on the wall, the type someone would pick up at Walmart or Target. The furniture was all leather, the coffee table glass-topped with a curled iron underpinning. Even the carpet was lush. The entire place screamed corporate rental, especially when there were open boxes strewn about the place, packing papers lying in piles at their bases.

He'd been serious when he'd said that unpacking wasn't his strong suit. I was about to harass him about it when I realized that he'd pulled his shirt off and my ability to speak vanished.

Naked. Man.

Harrison turned to face me, his stained shirt in his hands. “Make yourself comfortable. I'll just be a second.”

“Pardon?” Firm muscles. Tanned. Oh good, chest hair. I liked chest hair. I could totally run my fingers through it and tug, just enough to tease.

“Alyssa? Eyes up here, please.” Dammit, he was teasing me. No, teasing would make me like him and that wasn't what I wanted.

My face heated again when I realized there was no way to make up for blatantly staring. “Sorry. I'm sorry.”

“There are worse things for a guy's ego than to be ogled by a beautiful woman.” He motioned to his left. “The kitchen is that way if you want a drink. I might even have beer in the fridge.”

It was a comment on my mental state that I didn't even question his mentioning of the beer. I made a beeline for the fridge, found the aforementioned beverage, and was thankful that he had a magnetic bottle opener stuck to the side of the door. I closed my eyes and took three long drinks from the bottle before I stopped.

What the hell was I doing here? It wasn't as though I knew Harrison very well, certainly not long enough to proposition him. Not to mention the fact that I'd recently assaulted him in public with a beverage. Though I'd totally been provoked, it wasn't the sort of thing that won people over.

He might not be into sex with almost-strangers. Hell, he might not even like me that way. My stomach churned as the idea that I might actually get rejected crossed my mind for the first time. I'd have to play things cool.

“Oh my God, I'm an idiot.” I took another long pull from the beer bottle.

“Good, you found it.”

I jumped as he walked into the kitchen, still buttoning up his shirt. It was the same type of one he'd had on earlier, except navy blue. At least that one wouldn't show a stain as bad if we got into another serious discussion.

“Are you okay?” He stepped into my personal space and took the bottle from my hand. “You seemed off at the barbecue, too. Is there a problem that you need help—”

“I need to have sex with someone.”

Both of us stopped talking and stared into each other's eyes. It took me a moment to realize that I'd actually said that with my outside voice. My first instinct was to cover it up, apologize, say something to ease the growing awkwardness that had manifested between us. But then I really looked into his eyes and was struck by the intensity of his gaze. He didn't appear to be offended or put off by my request.

No, he looked exactly the opposite.

“Hmm, yeah.” I cleared my throat, knowing I needed to say this the right way to not come across as a lunatic. “Okay, so Rob, he's my late husband, but I think you knew that. Anyway, he was the only guy I've ever been with and he was worried that when I was ready to move on that I wouldn't do anything so he left me with these index cards to help me have sex with other men and I've been trying to start using them but the whole go to a bar and find some random guy didn't quite work out the way I hoped so I wanted to know if you would have sex with me? And if not that's fine, but then you said I should ask for help, so that's sort of what I'm doing.”

Harrison reached up and bracketed my face with his hands. I held my breath when he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss in the middle of my forehead. “I'm going to get a drink and then I suggest we go to the living room so we can sit and talk. Preferably in multiple sentences. With pauses. And breathing.”

My heart might as well have been a jackhammer in my chest it pounded so hard. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He didn't let go of me, instead he reached down to capture my hand in his. It only took him a moment to get his own beer before he led me to the couch. I sat down with a huff and then realized that I'd been squeezing the index card in a death grip. As Harrison joined me, his thigh slid against mine, sending another shiver through me.

I knew that if I was serious about this, I'd have to show him what it was that I'd brought. I was putting myself out there, taking a chance that was turning out to be way harder than I'd anticipated. Looking down at the bent cardboard, I knew if I couldn't get this far with Harrison, I'd have zero chance of doing this with someone else.

“Is that the card?” He didn't reach for it, instead taking a sip of his beer.

“One of them. Rob left me thirty in total. I've done one of them . . . but the rest require that I'm with someone else.”

“May I see it?” He still didn't reach for it, waiting for me to be the one to make the decision.

This was it. There was no reason why I had to follow the cards Rob made up for me. I certainly didn't need to show Harrison. I mean, I liked the guy and I was more than capable of starting something up if I wanted. I was tired of being alone, of not being touched, of not having someone beside me to tell jokes and laugh about the ridiculous things I'd found online. I didn't
need
to give him the card, but it was probably for the best if I did.

God, why was this so freaking hard?

I let out a soft huff, smiled, and held it out. “Sorry it's a bit damp.”

“That's okay.” His smile melted away my nervousness. “I need you to start from the top. What are these cards and why do you have them?”

I managed to get through the explanation once again, this time pausing long enough to breathe. The entire time I spoke, Harrison read over the card. It shouldn't have required that much attention considering how little was printed on that one, but he seemed fixated on the words. It was only after I'd finished that he put his now empty bottle on the coffee table and read the next step in Rob's plan for me.

“Touch a naked man.” He set the card down on the table next to the bottle. “And you want the naked man to be me?”

I didn't bother to hide my embarrassment. “My sister was the one who took me to that bar to pick up a guy. Not that she said it in so many words, but that's what she was hoping I'd do. After you left I had one or two who seemed interested. It was nice. But the second I started to talk to them with any degree of seriousness in taking things to another level, I panicked.” I groaned and leaned my head back against the couch. “I never had to do this before. I feel like a thirty-five-year-old virgin.”

Harrison's thigh pressed a bit firmer against mine. “I guess your husband suspected that. Hence the cards?”

“Yeah.”

“I have to be honest, some guys would be weirded out by this. Dead husband's sex list? Not normal.”

My heart sank, along with my stomach. “I didn't even think about that.”

Harrison chuckled. “I know you didn't. It's part of your charm.”

I almost hated to ask, but we were beyond the point of no return here. “Are you? Weirded out, I mean? Because if you are, that's fine. I mean not fine, but I understand. And I can leave, like right now. If you want.”

Instead of answering, he got to his feet and smiled down at me. In the blink of an eye, he started to unbutton the row he'd finished doing up only moments before. “I could have saved a step if I'd known earlier.”

Oh. My. God. “I . . . honestly, I just . . . we're going to have sex?”

“No.” The bastard smirked. He was actually enjoying this. “We're going to do what it says on the card. You're going to touch a naked man.”

His shirt fell silently to the floor as he reached for his belt. I wanted to say something—encourage him, comment on his excellent abs, ask about the sex thing again—but my mouth seemed incapable of functioning. When his jeans hit the floor, my lips parted and an excited tremor passed through me.

Harrison was getting naked.

I was going to see an honest-to-God sexy naked guy. For real!

When he didn't strip off his boxer briefs, a mournful little cry escaped me. Harrison chuckled again as he braced his hands on his hips. “I think this is a good place to start.”

“Huh?” I wanted to lick my lips, but didn't want to come across as desperate. Even though I was.