“What the fuck?” He shot another glance my way. “The guy you were at Roman’s with?”
“He’s just a friend.” I crossed my arms in front of me like a defensive high school girl caught cheating with the football captain. Or whatever those cool girls did.
“Hey! Sorry. What can I say? I don’t want to share those legs with anyone. So, if you ever want to hit the gym, I know of one. I can get you a few day passes.” He smiled, the corner of his mouth turning up in profile.
“I’ll keep that in mind, but, seriously, you’re okay with the fact that I’m not into all that pumping iron and stuff?”
“That’s my job and my hobby. It doesn’t have to be yours, Aly.”
For some reason, my eyes filled, the tears threatening to drip down my face, but I kept them at bay. “You always surprise me, Jake. Why do you put on the whole hard-body, tough-guy thing so heavy? When inside you’re a softie?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said with a snort. “I’m a hard-body muscle builder. Isn’t that what I just said, that I’m scary and big?”
He laughed loud and hard, and it was contagious. I grinned along with him.
“Don’t worry about what you do, Aly. Like I said, working out is my hobby, not yours. Just be safe, okay?”
Day was shifting to dusk as we traveled over one of Pittsburgh’s many bridges to the North Side. A pair of gargoyles stared us down from the ever-present scaffolding.
“Honestly, I just meant that you’re this big tough guy to everyone else, barreling your way through arguments or fights, but in private, you have a sweet side. The way you let me be me. I’m uptight, I don’t work out on one of those fancy machines. I meant it as a compliment.”
Jake chuckled. “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been sweet with anyone but you. It’s new for me, so thank you. But you should know, no one has ever made me want to be sweet before. Which is meant to be a compliment to you, but also a warning that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
His hand sought mine between the seats, grabbing my fingers and setting our entwined hands down on the center console. As we drove underneath an overpass, the fluorescent lighting illuminating our expressions, I imagined mine to be wistful when it should have been concerned.
Turning into a row of modern townhouses lined up along the river, Jake announced, “Here we are!”
Apparently detecting the excitement in Jake’s voice, Maverick stuck his blocky little head over the center console, dripping slobber all over our hands, his tiny tail thwacking against the seat, signaling he was ready to go on an adventure.
Jake parked inside a garage and hopped out of the driver’s seat, hitting the button to close the door behind us. The sight of the garage door coming down made me feel closed in, as if I were being forced into this new stage of my life whether I was ready for it or not. Needing comfort, I gathered Mav into my arms and carried him out of the vehicle, snuggled against my chest. He was my shield, my protector, my guardian angel in a situation that was suddenly scaring the living shit out of me.
“Let’s give the little guy a chance to piss before we go in. I shouldn’t have shut the garage door.” He raised the door again, and we walked out into the night. Begrudgingly, I hooked Mav’s leash on and set him down. He immediately found a bush he liked and squatted low.
Jake snorted. “Hope the little dude lifts his leg soon. All this pissing like a chick is starting to concern me.”
“Cut it out!” I said, smacking his arm playfully. “He’s fine. Actually, I read online today that it’s perfectly normal for male dogs to squat until even a year old.”
Enveloping me in his embrace and running his palm down my arm, he whispered against my hair, “Don’t always believe everything you read online, but I love that you’re reading up on our puppy.”
He guided me back into the garage and closed the door again, then ushered me through the smaller entry door to the house. “After you, madam,” he said with a mock bow, and I just laughed.
Maverick plopped down at the bottom of the steps. He hadn’t mastered stairs yet because he hadn’t needed to. Every time we left my apartment, I carried him outside.
“Come on, tough guy.” Jake scooped up the pup in one hand and took him up to the first floor, keeping him on his leash so he stayed close to us.
“How about we order and then we can have a drink out on the balcony?”
“Sure.”
“Middle Eastern good for you? Grilled chicken and salad and rice?”
I raised my eyebrow. “Do I get dessert?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think I have anything for dessert here, but how about this. I’ll get something for the next time you’re over?”
My cheeks warmed at the mention of next time, and I couldn’t form the words. So I nodded.
Jake pulled his phone out of his back pocket and ordered the food. By the way the person on the other end of the phone greeted him, and Jake barely muttered his order before they hung up, he obviously called there often.
“What would you like? Wine? Beer? Or something stronger?” he asked as he opened a cabinet of glassware in the kitchen.
It was an open floor plan, the first floor one giant great room with a gourmet kitchen in the far corner. An enormous flat-screen TV was mounted to the back wall, a dark brown suede sectional sofa opposite it, and what looked like a hand-carved coffee table sat in between.
“White’s good.” I watched Jake reach up and grab a wineglass, the back of his shirt riding up to reveal a chiseled back sloping into the waistband of his jeans. I prayed I wasn’t drooling like Maverick.
He swung open the stainless fridge and retrieved a chilled bottle of chardonnay. Once he’d filled my glass and handed it to me, he poured himself a Scotch, then wrapped his other arm around me and led me outside. Mav came along, his leash now tied to Jake’s belt loop.
The balcony faced the stadiums, both dark at the moment, but majestic nonetheless. Jake guided me toward the railing and I leaned up against it, pressing my hips against the wrought iron as I rested my forearms on the railing, holding my glass over the edge. He stepped up behind me and leaned his hardness into my back, his warmth seeping into my veins, heating me, curing me of a longing I didn’t know I had.
An elevated cable car traveled up and down the hillside in the distance, stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky, and my body was ablaze. I was afraid someone would see and call the fire department.
“Gorgeous,” I said softly.
“Not as gorgeous as you.”
Jake’s words carried in the night air as he pulled my hair back behind one ear and placed a line of kisses along my jawline. His breath smelled oaky, laced with the same mint as the other day. A fine layer of goose bumps lined my arms and thighs, and a chill rippled down my spine.
“You good?”
“Yep.”
I turned toward him, resting my back against the railing as I asked, “What about you? You good? Because sometimes when I look at you, I swear I see something that’s not all right.”
Jake
I wanted to move, run, perhaps explode, but I did none of those things. Instead I stared holes into the floor, Aly’s question ringing in my head. “What about you? You good? Because sometimes when I look at you, I swear I see something that’s not all right.”
In all the years I’d been fucking women, not one had ever taken the time to ask me this or admit they’d seen the sadness that plagued me. In only a week, this woman had begun to dissect me, pulling out the most important parts of me to study and tossing out anything not worth saving. She didn’t want me to give up my obsessive exercising, only to forgive her for not wanting to do the same. She accepted my dog, even dove headfirst into taking care of him.
And now she wanted to know if I was really okay. Not just okay, but really okay, and that was when I fell apart and lost all semblance of self-control.