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Authors: Jade C. Jamison

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Chapter Twelve

 

S
O I GOT nervous waiting for Ridley, right, and I started thinking about Roman.  Sure, Ridley and I had had a good, hot run, but Roman had surprised me and turned everything upside down.  There had been lots more to that man than had met the eye.

Unlike Ridley, Roman was my friend.  He cared about me.

Now, though, Ridley was indicating that maybe he
did
care, and I didn’t quite know how to deal with that revelation.

Running
to my bedroom, I started rifling through clothes, looking for the perfect outfit.  I didn’t want it to seem like I’d tried to look nice for him, but I didn’t want to look like a slob, either.  I found a pair of cute cutoffs in a dresser drawer that I hadn’t worn in ages.  They’d show off my legs and maybe look sexy without appearing to have been done for him.  I found a slinky top too—navy blue with thin straps—not revealing, but it showed off my shoulders and hugged my frame.  I looked in the mirror.  Okay, maybe trying too hard.  I looked in the closet again and grabbed a light blouse instead.  I wasn’t wearing shoes, so I touched up the red polish on my toes and then ran to the bathroom mirror to check my makeup.

Ugh.  That would never do.  I added a new coat of mascara and blush and put on some light pink lipstick.  Ridley had seemed to like the pink
on me, although he’d never said a word.  Then I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, a style that had always seemed to favor my face, making me look a couple of years younger…not that I needed it.

Taking
a deep breath, I looked at myself in the mirror, satisfied with my efforts.  Then I picked up in the bedroom a bit.  I looked around, believing it was good enough but then panicked.  Should I change the sheets?  Roman had been in my bed at least twice since the last time I’d changed them.

That was when I heard him at my front door.

I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, smoothing my blouse along my belly as I walked toward the front door.  Inside, I felt frozen with fear.  I tried to think of Ridley playing the part of the book boyfriend I was writing, but I’d already had Roman playing that part for the past two weeks.  Ridley didn’t quite fit.  Maybe one of my next books…

My mind tried to lock around that idea as I opened the door.

Only it wasn’t Ridley.  It was my substitute boyfriend.

Roman.

“What the hell are you doing here?”  Oh, shit.  Had I said that out loud?  And did it sound as rude to his ears as it had to mine?

Probably, considering he looked irritated.  It was then that I noticed the
bouquet of roses in his hand…and I’d just been a horrible bitch.  Before I could apologize, he said, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

I let the air out of my lungs.  “I’m doing all right.  Sorry.  Please come in.”

I opened the door the rest of the way, momentarily forgetting that Ridley would be there any moment.  I’d have to tell Roman about that, but first I wanted my friend to know he was important to me.  When I closed the door, he handed me the bouquet.  “For you.”

“Thank you.”  He followed me to the kitchen.  I placed the bouquet on the counter and opened the cabinet under the sink where I had a couple of vases stored.  I half filled the vase with water and said, “They smell wonderful.”

He didn’t sit.  As I arranged the flowers in the vase, he said, “Do you need more time?”  I looked up at him and could tell he had more questions, but he wasn’t willing to expose himself further to ask.  That was strange, so unlike my friend Roman.

I took a deep breath and considered him for a few moments.  I didn’t know what I wanted.  How would I tell him that?  Would he understand?  “I don’t know.”

His voice was quieter and he took two steps closer to me.  “Have you thought about it at all?”

Oh,
boy, had I.  My writing had actually suffered—not just because I didn’t have him playing substitute boyfriend, but also because I’d missed him.  I’d wanted him around.  Well, most of the time.  But then there was Ridley…and now my mind thought maybe I should give
that
boy a serious chance.  After all, he’d been my first pretend boyfriend, the one who’d helped me expand my sexual repertoire so that I could be a better erotic romance writer.

Oh, hell.  I had no fucking idea what I wanted.

Mr. Psychoanalyst Roman already knew that.  It was written all over his face.

Or maybe he didn’t always know what I was thinking, because he asked, “Are you regretting what we did this summer?  That we crossed that line?”  He took a deep breath and gripped the back of one of the kitchen chairs with his hands.  “Are you wishing we could take it back?”

Wait a minute.  Why?  Why was my best friend Roman suddenly having a hard time reading me?  I’d always been an open book to him, and he’d never struggled to know what my thoughts were, my motivations, where I was coming from.  Why was he confused?

I knew why.

My time to psychoanalyze.

His heart was involved.  It had to be.  That was the only thing that could explain why he didn’t know my thoughts anymore.

All that did was make me more confused, but Roman was still my friend, and I wasn’t going to lie to him about anything.  “No.  Hell, no, Roman.  Do
you
wish we could?”  Maybe I wished it would be easy to go back to the way things were now that summer was gearing up to sing its swan song, but I didn’t regret anything we’d done.

His eyes softened, but I think I was
playing the psychologist now.  Either that or Roman was wearing his heart on his sleeve, something he never did.  He was getting ready to answer my question when the doorbell rang.

Sigh.

It had to be Ridley with his always-perfect timing.

I couldn’t get it yet, though.  I wanted to give Roman a chance to say what he had to say.  Instead, he just shook his head.

Oh, God. 
Now what?  Well, I didn’t want to risk Roman looking more dejected than he already did.  Oh, I’ll give him credit.  It’s not like he hadn’t put on a happy face.  He was trying to look neutral and even positive.  I think it was maybe because we
had
been friends for so long that I was able to see the struggle behind his eyes.

But he didn’t say a word.  Instead, he nodded his head toward the front door.  “Should you get that?”

“Yeah.  But I need to warn you…”  I sucked in a deep breath.  I needed it.  “It’s Ridley.”

He raised his eyebrows. 
“Ridley…as in your first pretend boyfriend?”

Oh, his eyes.  They were either hiding pain or disappointment in me that I was so weak.  I couldn’t tell
which.  Either way, whatever his eyes were trying not to show was painful.  I knew there was no fixing anything—not yet, at any rate.

He held out his hand as if to show me the way to my own front door.  His lips were sealed.  I let out a breath and glanced at him, then walked out of the kitch
en.

I didn’t real
ize until I was opening the door that Roman had followed me into the living room.

Yep, it was Ridley…and oh, my fucking God, he looked hotter than ever.  I could feel the drool accumulating in my mouth until I forced myself to swallow.  Jesus, the guy was a sight for sore eyes.  He
still had his longish soul patch, yeah, but he had let a little scruff grow all along his jaw.  Mmm.  His sunglasses were tucked in the front of his t-shirt and he wore a pair of snug faded Levi’s and black boots.  He’d been riding his bike—I was sure of that—and it made my heart swell all the more.

Poor Roman.
  I sensed, rather than saw, him behind me.  Don’t get me wrong—Roman was a hot guy, too, but he didn’t have that bad boy aura around him.  That was what had initially attracted me to Ridley and, obviously, I still found him appealing for that very reason.

God, he was wearing that smirk too.  Well…that is, until he saw Roman behind me.  Then his face dropped.  It was subtle, but I saw it.

Score.

Now he knew how I’d felt earlier in the summer when I’d seen him with that floozy in the bar.

Roman said, “See ya later,” and walked around me.  He nodded at Ridley but didn’t say another word.  I suppose I should have been grateful that he’d spared me the trouble of having to make an awkward introduction, but instead I felt empty.

Ridley walked closer to the door and said, his voice lower, “Who’s that?”

I almost shrugged, wanting to pretend Roman was nobody, but my heart wouldn’t let me.  I felt like a big jerk, but my head was still in the game.  My head and my loins were thrilled to see Ridley…and looking so fine to boot.  “He’s an old friend of mine.  We teach together at WCC.”

One nod.
  A smirk.  A fast move.  Before I knew it, I was in Ridley’s embrace, and his hands cupped my ass, pushing my body into him.  It was as if he wanted me to know I belonged to him.

But I didn’t.

For the moment, though, I was confused.  Beyond belief.

So I didn’t hold him back.  My hands were pressed against his chest.  My heart was going nuts, though, a good ninety miles an hour, and I’m pretty sure the rest of me was hoping for some good old-fashioned pretend boyfriend action.

“I missed you, Liz.”  Oh, yes, his lips said it, and I know he meant it and believed it on some level…but I could see more in his eyes.  Or maybe it was just my knowledge of the man.  Maybe Roman had rubbed off on me.  I knew I would never be more to Ridley than a plaything when he was bored.

Or maybe it was me.

Because I wasn’t thinking about Ridley so much.  I was thinking about Roman and about how much this embrace alone felt like a betrayal.  Roman, the friend who’d been by my side for years.  Roman, the lover who’d awakened something crazy in me.  Roman, the guy I thought maybe I was starting to care for more than I would have imagined…the guy who
really
had my heart.

I patted Ridley’
s chest—a friendly pat, nothing sexual about it.  “Ridley…I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me.  It would be so easy to go back to the ways things were, wouldn’t it?  Except…that guy.  My friend?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s been my substitute boyfriend while you’ve been away.”


Your
what
?”             

I smiled.  “I always called you my
pretend boyfriend
, whether you knew it or not.  Roman became your substitute.”

Ridley loosened his embrace.  “You
sayin’ you
fucked
that guy?”

I took a deep breath.  “Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

He let out a breath of air…and he let me go.  He considered me for a moment, then said, “Well, I guess that’s only fair.  Now we’re even?”

I couldn’t find it in myself to be mean, because I didn’t think Ridley’s waters ran deep.  “I suppose we are, but I’ve moved on.”

“Moved on?”

“Yeah.
  I don’t…want to go back to the way we were.”  In fact, something was itching at the back of my brain, telling me I needed to hurry—
HURRY!
—and catch Roman immediately before he completely wrote me off.  I didn’t want that man hurting for any longer.  And, somehow, I knew he was.

“What?  You’re kidding, right?”

Okay, so that was the part of Ridley that I used to love—you know, the cocky
God’s gift to women
attitude.  It had somehow made him more desirable to me, all while making him seem unobtainable—and that’s what made him feel extra hot.  Now?  Well, now, it just made him seem like an asshole.  That said, I wasn’t the kind to be a rude bitch, especially when he
had
helped me out so much in the past.  I pulled myself the rest of the way out of his arms and said, “No, I’m not.”  I took a deep breath.  “Look, Ridley, you are super hot.  I appreciate what you did for me, but…I’ve moved on.  Thanks for the time we had.”


You fuckin’ with me, Lizzie?”

“Nope.
  Sorry.”  I took a deep breath.  “And don’t call me
Lizzie
.”

He acted flabbergasted…which, I suppose
d, he should, considering he’d probably
always
gotten any girl he’d wanted.  He shook his head and grabbed the doorknob.  “You’re one crazy bitch.”

Yeah…but I wasn’t
his
crazy bitch.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

I GAVE RIDLEY five minutes to clear out of my building.  Yeah, it was overkill, but I didn’t want to risk running into him again.  Oh, I’d experienced bad breakups before and this wasn’t one of them, but I didn’t want to change that.

While waiting the requisite time, I touched up my lipsti
ck and changed my blouse again.  I could smell Ridley’s cologne on me and didn’t think Roman would appreciate that while I was begging for his forgiveness.

I considered calling first but knew Roman.  I didn’t need him blowing me off and then us talking about it hours from now or even days.  I wanted to do it now,
now
while things were escalated and tense and horrible.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I felt keyed up, so nervous, wondering if I’d destroyed it all before I’d had a chance to even realize what it was.  I drove to his apartment, half out of my mind, understanding that while I might have thought I’d kept Roman in the friend zone, the emotional part of my brain clearly had not.  It had been so easy for me to think, since Roman was playing various male characters to my heroines, that I had no deeper feelings for him than when we started.

I was dead wrong.

Not only was it dawning on me that I fucking loved this man, he was a hell of a lover.  I would be absolutely insane to let him go.

So I wouldn’t.

Fuck propriety.  I ran up the stairs to his apartment, not caring how crazy I looked, and I was a little breathless when I got there, but it all felt so urgent to me.  I pounded on the door.  “Roman. 
Roman!
  Are you in there?”

It was quiet
outside his apartment, but somehow I could sense he was home.  I rang the doorbell this time, a little more civilized.  “Roman!”

I could hear his baritone voice on the other side of the door. 
“Quiet, you.  You’re gonna wake the neighbors.”

I started laughing.  “All your neighbors work graveyard?”

He opened the door.  “They might.  You never know.”  He stepped aside.  “Get your noisy ass in here.”

That was good.  Felt like old times.  “Roman, I need to tell you—”

“Don’t.”  I was confused, angry, hurt—all in that millisecond.  But then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me hard before I could even protest.  When he stopped, I caught my breath and opened my eyes.  He could see the uncertainty in them.  “You got here fast.  That told me all I need to know.”

“It did?”

“Yeah.  We’re friends, remember?”

“You psychoanalyzing bastard.”
  He laughed again and then kissed me even harder.  Oh.  Mama might need to play a book heroine soon.  But first…  “I, uh, I need to tell you something.”

He raised his eyebrows.  He looked amused. 
Again.  “What’s that?”

I felt a little irritated that he found his knowledge of my brain so entertaining.  “No.  Forget it.”

“Aw, come on, Beth.”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”  He raised his eyebrows and searched my eyes.  He raised his voice slightly, imitating mine.  “Roman, I want to pledge my undying lust for your hard body that I never knew you had.  And oh, my God!  Your prowess in bed!  I can’t wait to write about it.”

“You bastard.”
  He laughed again and kissed me.

“Beth, I had no idea.”

“I didn’t either.  I…”  I took another deep breath.  “I love you, best friend.”

He grinned.  “I love you, too.”

* * *

I stood in the first floor hallway of the Humanities building one evening in early September.  Classes were bac
k in full swing and we were immersed in the fall semester.  Tell that to summer, though.  Autumn hadn’t officially started and the heat was still a bitch.  Not indoors on campus, though.  It was plenty cool enough, and I was enjoying the relative silence in the halls.  I could barely hear students and teachers out there.

One minute later, though, and students started pouring out of doors, propping them open as they did—first one down the hall, then one right across from where I stood, and, next, the one I
stood next to.  Once the line of people exiting dwindled down, I peeked in the room to see if it was empty.  Nope.  One stray student taking his time packing up his books.

I looked across the room at Roman.  He was cleaning his notes off the white board.  Damn, he looked fine.  He was teaching his abnormal psych class evenings this semester.  It was over capacity, as usual.  The lingering student made his way past me and I entered the room, closing the door behind me after making sure it would still be locked when I closed it.

Roman turned around and spied me at the door, a huge grin covering his face.  I tilted my head, keeping the look of seriousness on mine, and stared him down.  He cleared his throat and he lost the smile.  “Can I help you?”

I marched across the room, down the center aisle toward the
front where he stood, guarded by a computer set up, podium, and desk.  Talk about overkill.  “Yeah.  I want to know why you gave me a
B
.”

He shook his head.  He was fully in character now.  Good.  “I gave you the grade you earned.”

“No, you didn’t.  I earned an
A
, Dr. Carver.”

“You
earned
a
B
.  And that was pushing it.  Really, I should have given you a
C plus
.”

I took a deep breath.  I could take this scenario one of two ways.  Did my heroine want to use sex to get what she wanted (which would make her less sympathetic) or did she want to earn a good grade fair and square but still get the hot professor she’d been lusting for?

Yeah.

“Dr. Carver, maybe you could give me a few tips on what I need to study for so I can earn that higher grade, but I need to tell you something.  I think…”  Roman’s eyes searched mine, a look of sincerity in them.  Damn, he’d gotten good at this.  “I think I’m so sexually attracted to you that I just can’t concentrate in class.”  I touched his chest with my finger.

“Hold up, Beth.”

I let out a breath.  Damn it.  “What?”

He tilted his head to the right.  “Shouldn’t we close the blinds first?”  I looked over and saw through the windows.  Off in the distance, I could see the parking lot—brake lights, street lamps, student bodies making their way there away from the building—and I realized he was right.  “Just a suggestion…unless you wanted that in your book.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure losing our jobs would work really well.”

He shrugged, grinning.  “Well, if this next book is a bestseller, maybe we’d have a little leeway.”

I laughed and started to pull away so we could begin closing the blinds but he held me tight and kissed me.  I melted in his arms.  When I opened my eyes, I
looked in his.  He looked full of love and lust, and I had to be careful.  We weren’t going to be able to play out my scene if we once again confessed our undying love.  “Listen,
Dr. Carver
, shouldn’t we get started?  I have a lot of work to do to get that
A
.”

He chuckled. 
“Yes, ma’am.  And security will be coming around in the next hour, so we have even more incentive to get cracking.”

I moved over to one of the blinds. 
“Only an hour?”

“You don’t think I can make you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven in an hour?”

I smirked.  “I think you can.”

“I know I can. 
More than once.”

Oh, hell.  I knew he could.  I felt a shiver crawl up my spine as I realized that this was my guy forever…one hour at a time.  No more substitute boyfriend.  He was the real deal.

Lucky me.

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