What Fools Believe (3 page)

“Many times,” she answered.

“We’re too old for this, Bex.”

“You’re too old for this.”

He chuckled. Rebecca’s hand moved up to the nape of his neck and another husky groan rumbled at the base of his throat as she tangled her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back.

“This is killing me.”

“You want me to let go?”

“No.” He buried his forehead into her warm body again and mumbled, “Never let me go.”
 

Joshua succumbed to a wave of impulses. He rubbed his palms up her smooth thighs, relishing in the feel of her skin. He found her panties and snaked them over her hips. They fell easily to the floor and memories sprung up again. Flashes of them making love rushed back. He heard her moaning as she climaxed, felt her soft lips pressed into his neck and the sensation of her moist flesh against his as she wrapped her legs around him and he wedged himself deeper between her thighs, the sweet squeeze pulsing down around him. Aching to relive it now, Joshua glommed on to her waist. He wanted nothing more than to pull her down onto his erection, but a nagging uncertainty halted the biting need coursing through him.

This moment could mean nothing. But what if it meant everything?

Joshua stopped. He gasped, breathing hard from want. After a second he tipped his head back and confessed, “You really hurt me.”

“It happened such a long time ago, Josh.”

“No. What you said to me today. That really hurt me.”

“I don’t want to lie to you.”

“I don’t want you to either.” Refusing to concede an inch, Joshua dug his fingers into her hips and held on. “Were you really happier with him than with me?”

“Spencer and I were in love. Somewhere along the line it just wasn’t enough for him anymore. None of that means I didn’t care for you. It never meant I didn’t want to be a part of your life.”

“But you just left.”

“Because I know you better than you want to admit. You would’ve never accepted me being more in love with him. If I had stayed, it would’ve ruined both our chances at being happy.”

“Olivia. Spencer. They could’ve turned me into a pariah, but if I’d had you, I would’ve been happy.” Rebecca laughed at his overture and he nudged her away. “You’re right. I am too old for this.”

“Sleep it off. You’ll be fine by morning.”

He flopped back onto the bed. Joshua eyed her. Spurned, but wrestling with a keening body part, he groped himself so she could see the outline of his erection. Rebecca reached out and touched his stomach, but he pushed her hand down to the bulge. His eyes rolled shut at her touch. More flashes appeared. Joshua tugged on her arm, gently encouraging her to join him on the bed. She curled into his side and he turned to her and said, “I hate you again.”

“Can’t we just be friends first?”
 

“No. That’s how much I hate you.”

Rebecca tucked her hair behind her ear and stared into his eyes as the silence built around them. He mimicked her position on the bed then said, “I want to make love.”

“We just decided—”

“We did not.” He glanced down at her breasts, licked his lips. “Let me make love to you. I can tell you want me to. Just admit that, Rebecca.”

“There’s no point in admitting that.”

“Do you want me to beg?”

“I want you to understand and to be okay with my decision.”

“Be okay with your one-sided decision that involves me. Absolutely not,” he told her. She said nothing to that. He inhaled and blew out the breath. “Was the sex good at least?”
 

She laughed and asked, “Is this interrogation ever going to end?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “Yes.”
 

“Good because I’m tired.”

“You want me to leave?”

“I told you you could stay and I meant it.”

“Did you mean the part about us just being friends too?”
 

“That’s your choice.”

He cupped the back of her neck and brought her close, kissing her forehead. “Right now, I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Maybe tomorrow you won’t feel that way. Have you considered that?”

“How many tomorrows do you think I’ve had to consider that?” She tensed in his hand. She really didn’t believe that he loved her. “Too many is the answer,” he told her.

Fondling her back, Joshua found her zipper and pulled. He looked up at her, fearing a rebuffing, but also terrified he might cross an unforgivable line. It figured that for someone who made a living off of reading people, the woman he fell in love with would be the one person he couldn’t read. He didn’t understand her. It worried him she remained this huge blind spot in his life, but there had been nothing like her before and no one came close after so he’d have to keep going.

He sat up. Rebecca came up with him. He pointed to the phone on the nightstand and said, “I’ll have the concierge call me a cab.”

She started to protest, but reconsidered.
 

A short while later he stumbled into his apartment. Exhausted, he passed out on the sofa.

HIS STOMACH CHURNED from the quick upright movement. He wedged himself between the back and the arm of the couch, trying to get a hold on his surroundings. Muddled at first, the outlines of his living room sharpened as the doorbell buzzed again. Getting to his feet, he almost tumbled over but he caught the corner of the side table and knocked his phone to the floor. He scooped it up and cursed after seeing the time. He abandoned a brief and incoherent murder plot when he saw who was at the door.
 

“More torture,” he said.

“You look horrible.” She shifted the reusable grocery bag from one hand to the other and touched his face. “Let me in.”

He let her breeze in. Joshua staggered back to the living room and eased himself onto the sofa.

“Here. Drink this,” Rebecca said.

As he removed his arm from over his eyes, the sunlight in his apartment nearly blinded him. “Coffee?” he asked her.

“Not exactly.”

“I’m not in the mood for one of your holistic herbal cocktails.”
 

Rebecca kept the mug pointed at him like a pistol until he took it from her hand. She helped him up and sat at his side, watching him. Joshua tasted the elixir and whatever was floating around his stomach threatened to surge up his digestive track. “Rebecca. This is gross.”

“You’re nearly forty and you still talk like that?” Joshua sulked. “How much did you have to drink?”

He shrugged, took another sip then guzzled a little bit more, hoping to hasten the effects of the concoction then an image jolted him. His eyes drifted over to hers. “What happened last night?”

She propped her chin up with her hand and asked, “You don’t remember?”
 

“Not. Everything. Did I say or do anything…”

“You said a lot of things. You didn’t do anything,” she said in a soft voice, nudging the mug toward his mouth. Joshua stared at her as he swallowed. “Think you can manage a shower while I make us breakfast?”

“I tried to take off your dress.”

“Only after you succeeded in removing my panties.” His eyes snapped up. His head responded with a fresh helping of pain. “Go take a shower and don’t come back out until you’ve finished that.”
 

Many details eluded him, but as hot water rained down on his head what she told him about Spencer resurfaced as clear as glass. Feeling better, and worse, he walked into the bedroom with a towel stapled around his waist. Joshua breathed in deeply. Cinnamon. Vanilla. His stomach grumbled. He threw on a pair of boxer briefs and some jogging pants.
 

“Belgium Waffles,” she said.

His favorite.
 

“My favorite,” he said.

“Your favorite.”
 

Rebecca pointed to a plate with a huge waffle covered in syrup, whipped cream and chopped nuts. The plate beside it was identical. His eyes flickered up to hers. She smirked, rounded the counter and took a seat. She picked up her fork, stuck it in her mouth, cleaning the syrup and whipped cream combination from it. He gulped, staring at her mouth and remembering how good they use to taste.
 

“You had a rough day yesterday,” she said.
 

“True, but this was our thing,” he said shifting in his seat, facing the food. “Our Saturday morning tradition way back when we used to wake up naked together. Remember.”
 

“Shut up and eat your waffle.”

Rebecca quietly sipped orange juice and read one of his newspapers. Joshua scratched a non-existent itch then cleared his throat. “About the brownstone.”

“Oh. You know. I don’t know.” She winched, didn’t look up from her article. “It really is too big now that I’m practically divorced and I’m still trying to get accustomed to being on my own. You know, I haven’t lived alone since before college.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. Stories about Rebecca’s domestic arrangements, past, present or future that didn’t include him, depressed him now. She turned and looked him in the eyes.

“I appreciate the help though. Will your friend be all right?”

“He’ll be fine.” She smiled. “Rebecca, thank you for last night. Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime,” she said.

She placed a hand over his and squeezed it. Rebecca went back to the paper, but she held on to him. He watched her for a moment then picked up his fork. “So,” he said, “what else do you have planned for me today?”