Love and Learn (Voretti Family Book 2) (11 page)

“Simple.” She was glad to have an answer, even if it did leave a bitter taste in her mouth. “He feels bad about the way he ended things back in high school.”

Calli snorted. “If he felt guilty, he’d send flowers. Not orgasms.”

“He gave me flowers too.” The words came out automatically, her brain preoccupied with Calli’s question. Why
was
Ty, the poster child for taking the easy route, making such an effort?

Because he has changed. Because he wants another chance with you.

She cut the thoughts off right there. “It doesn’t matter why he’s doing it. The point is, I have a chance to be a normal woman. I know the risks, and I’m willing to take them.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well I do. Love takes trust, and I’ll never trust Ty again. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

“No, I meant how do you know it’s temporary? I know it’s scary, but don’t close yourself off from the possibility of happiness because you’re afraid of getting hurt.”

Huh?

Too late, Annabelle noticed Calli’s ultra-rosy complexion. The sparkle in her eyes.
 

New-relationship glow.
 

After seven years of friendship, Annabelle should have recognized the signs immediately. Then she could’ve sewed her mouth shut and moved to Patagonia until Calli came off the endorphin high that gave her a biological compulsion to pair up all her single friends.

Annabelle cleared her throat, carefully composing her reply. “I’m not closing myself off. I’m being realistic.”

“I get it. You’re tired of putting yourself out there. I felt the same way last night. But we went to
Top Shelf
anyway, and I met this amazing man. Why? Because I was
looking
for him. You need to open yourself up to the happiness the universe wants to give you.”

“I am open.”

“You don’t sound open. It’s been seven years, Annabelle. You and Ty are completely different people than you were back in high school.”

She couldn’t let herself process those words. They were too dangerous. “How do you know? You haven’t even met him.”

“I know. But finding your true love is the most incredible rush. I don’t want you to miss out on that because you’re afraid to trust Ty again.”

Blood whooshed through Annabelle’s veins. Her vision tunneled, and she almost missed the bright red flag her friend was brandishing right in her face.
True love?
“What did you say?”

“That you need to open yourself up to—”

“Not that. The other thing. About true love being an incredible rush.”

“Oh.” Calli pressed her lips together, but she couldn’t hold back her smile. “I know I only met Edward last night, but I have this feeling about him.”

“You’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours!”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like we’re running off to Vegas to get married.”

“That’s a relief.” But not much of one, because Annabelle recognized that stupid-happy expression on her friend’s face. It was the same expression Calli had worn when she’d loaned Andy $5,000 to start a business, only to find out he was sleeping with his “business partner.” Or when she’d let Tony move in a week after they’d met.

“But, hypothetically, if he
asked
me to marry him, I’d have no problem saying yes. Because when you know, you know.”

“He lives in
another country
.”

“I know it’ll be hard to work out the logistics. But I’ve always felt a connection to Andera. My mom told me so many stories that I almost feel like I grew up there.”

“So visit. You don’t have to marry a guy you barely know and move half way across the planet.” Annabelle took a deep breath, but her heart kept right on thudding, all the way up in her throat. “Right now you’re in the infatuation stage. I don’t care how long you talked last night—you don’t know enough about him to be sure he’s right for you. Running a country is a twenty-four seven job. How are you going to feel when he doesn’t have time to have breakfast with you because he has to meet with his advisors? Or when his press liaison tells you your wardrobe is all wrong for that dinner with the President of France? Or when you find out that he snores, and he secretly hates puppies?”

“He doesn’t hate puppies. He has a sheepdog named Hastings.”
 

“Who names a dog Hastings?”

“I think it sounds distinguished.”

“Well, I think it makes him sound like a tool! The prince, not the dog.”

“Excuse me.” Christian poked his head over the top of the cubicle. “I’m trying to write a paper. Can you keep it down?”

Annabelle barely glanced at him. She had bigger problems. “They’re called headphones, Christian. Use them.”

Calli laid a conciliatory hand on her arm. “How about this—I promise to slow things down with Edward if you promise me something.”

The intensity in Calli’s gaze only made Annabelle’s heart beat faster. “What?”

“That you’ll keep an open mind about Ty. Maybe he’s not the right guy for you. But he could also be your one true love.”

The mere idea of making herself that vulnerable made her twitchy. She didn’t understand how Calli could keep doing it time after time.
 

But Calli seemed so happy. The last time Annabelle had felt the way Calli looked had been prom night. With Ty.

Her mouth opened, the words coming without conscious direction from her brain. “I’ll keep an open mind. I promise.”

*

Ty had never spent more than half an hour getting ready for a date. Even his pre-prom prep (shower, change into suit) had taken less than twenty minutes. He hadn’t stressed about what tie to wear or whether Annabelle would think his jokes were funny. He hadn’t even bothered making dinner reservations.
 

This time around, he couldn’t stop thinking about their date. He’d tried to chill at Joe’s Java with his morning coffee, but he kept seeing girls with Annabelle’s hair or eyes or that same subtle sway in the hips. Watching the waves at Ocean Beach made him think about the walk he and Annabelle had taken along the water after prom. He’d tried to check his email, but found himself on the web, researching restaurants, bars, and clubs to find a place Annabelle might like.
 

He’d waited impatiently for seven PM, and even now that he was climbing the stairs to her apartment, time was still moving too damn slow. He cursed his bum leg. He didn’t usually mind the leisurely pace—at least he still had all his limbs—but tonight, he needed to see Annabelle.
 

She pulled open the door before he could knock. “You didn’t tell me where we were going, so I didn’t know what to wear.”

He took in her outfit—a top with straps so thin he could rip them off in a single tug, jeans that hugged her ass, and a pissed off expression that almost hid her terror.
 

His impatience evaporated. For the first time all day, he was where he was supposed to be.
 

He wanted to pull Annabelle close enough to investigate if her top was as flimsy as it looked, but instinct told him she wouldn’t find that reassuring. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “That’s the good thing about the drive-in. You can wear whatever you want.”

Her eyes widened. “Why are we going to the drive-in?”

“Because it’s private enough that we can make out, but public enough that I won’t get too carried away. You get my note?”

She swallowed.

He was gonna kiss her right there, at the base of her throat, where he could see her muscles working. Only not yet
.
 

“Where did you find a drive-in?” she said, finally. “I’ve never seen any around here.”

“You’ve never been to the drive-in?”
 

“Of course I have. Only not…you know. In this area.” Even under the dim porch light, the red spreading across her skin, between those skimpy shoulder straps, was more than obvious.

He grinned. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“It might have been a slight
hyperbole
. But that’s not the same thing.” She glanced behind her, like she was mapping out her retreat.

No way. Not happening.

He grabbed the knob and pulled the door shut. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s get a move on. I don’t want to miss the previews.”

“Maybe I should bring a sweater.”

“It’s seventy-five degrees.”

“The sun just went down. It could get chilly.”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He slung an arm around her shoulder.

Shit
. Big mistake.
 

That thing she was wearing instead of a shirt was so thin it was like having her naked body plastered to his side. A body that had gone rigor-mortis still as soon as he’d touched her.

All hints of desire fled his system. The last thing he wanted was to make her nervous.

He loosened his grip. “Okay. What if I promise to give you full control of the heating vents?”

For a second, he thought she wasn’t going to respond, but then, in a voice that only trembled slightly, “Are you sure that’s wise? You give someone control of the heating vents, and the next thing you know, they’re messing with the seat adjustments. Even changing your radio stations.”
 

“Here’s what a generous guy I am. I’m gonna give you full control of my stereo too.”

“You don’t even know what music I like. I could listen to Amber Watts.”

He chuckled at the mention of the pop star his twelve-year-old cousin idolized. “What makes you think
I
don’t listen to Amber Watts?”

“Twenty-five-year-old former Navy SEALs do not go to Amber Watts concerts.”

“Never said I went to her concerts. But if that
Satisfy Me
song happens to come on the radio while I’m driving, I might turn up the volume and sing along.”

She snorted, and the tension eased out of her shoulders. “That I
have
to see.”

“Then let’s do this thing.” He started to walk, willing her to follow.
Come on
.

Her steps synced with his, and then everything was perfect except for his leg, which was—once again—moving too slow. He didn’t want Annabelle to have any extra time to change her mind.

Finally, they made it to his truck. He yanked open the passenger’s door, too eager and clumsy to count as chivalrous, but all he really cared about was making sure she got inside instead of making a run for it.

He kept her in his sights as he pulled onto the street, watching for the slightest hint that she was beginning the freakout cycle. She seemed fully occupied connecting her phone to his stereo.

The opening chords of
Satisfy Me
blasted through the speakers, and he burst out laughing.
 

Annabelle’s gaze met his. “I don’t hear you singing.”

“Give me a second.” Amber got to the chorus, and he belted out the words along with her.

Annabelle’s eyebrows jumped. “Holy crap! You’re a terrible singer. Not just bad. Like, really, spectacularly awful.”

“I know.” He grinned. “Impressive, huh?”

“It is, actually.” She gazed at him speculatively.

He didn’t want to look away, but he had a truck to drive. By the time he glanced back, her eyes were closed. She reclined against the bucket seat, singing along with Amber, and he got this weird feeling in his chest, a heat that wasn’t entirely physical desire.

After they’d left the prom, she’d kicked off her heels, curled her legs under her, and sung along with the radio while he’d recited the names of the presidents in his head, trying to keep from getting too excited. That had worked about as well then as it was working now. In other words, not at all. Good thing traffic was light.

Ten minutes later, he exited the freeway.

Amber started singing about some guy who’d left her, and Annabelle went silent. She opened her eyes when he stopped at a light. “What movie are we seeing?”

It took his sex-obsessed brain a second to process the question. “Whatever’s playing at the drive-in.”

“You don’t know what movie it is?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” She snuck a glance at him. “As long as there aren’t too many explosions. Or car chases. Or car chases that end in explosions.”

Her words started to run together, telling him her nerves were back.

He turned into the drive for Skyview Cinema. “You’re in luck. Looks like we’re watching a cartoon about a frog.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that I won’t even have any decent eye candy in between the explosions and car chases?”
 

“Don’t worry.” He handed the girl manning the entrance booth twenty bucks, drove in, and chose a spot in the back of the lot. “I’ll keep you entertained.”

She snuck a glance at him from her fortified position, hunkered down in her seat, belt still fastened tight. “I guess I can live with that.”

Nervous but interested. He could work with that.
 

The first thing to do was to get her comfortable.
 

Keep your distance. Let her come to you.

Fuck that—you gotta get closer. Get her used to your touch.

In the end, it wasn’t a choice. He had to touch her.
 

“Hey.” His hand found her cheek. Turned her toward him. “We’re about to watch a movie about a cartoon frog. And if that’s all you want to happen, that’s all that’s gonna happen. It doesn’t matter what I wrote in that stupid note. You know that, right?”

She nodded.
 

Her cheek brushed his hand, a glancing pressure that rushed through his body like fire burning up a fuse.

Fuck, he wanted her. But he wasn’t a horny sixteen-year-old, and he’d meant what he said. He was gonna wait until she was ready.
 

He forced himself to draw back. “If you recline your seat, you’ll have a better view of the screen. And for the love of God, woman, lose the seatbelt.”

She swallowed. Her hand moved to the belt release, but she didn’t press the button. “I…I don’t want to.”

Damn. He was pushing her too fast. “No worries. Whatever you—”

“No!” There was a click, and she shoved the belt off. “I mean, I don’t want to watch the movie. I hate cartoon frogs. And I want….” She sucked in a breath. “I want to stick to the lesson plan.”