“It’s always lovely to know I’m at the bottom of your list, Maddie.”
I ignored his sarcasm. “Please?” I pleaded, doing my best pathetic voice. Which, considering the day I’d had, wasn’t too hard to fake.
He paused, his face unreadable. Then finally he said, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Come on. I’m sorry about the whole Deveroux-is-gay story. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Please, please, pretty please?”
Felix looked at me over his mug. He bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his blue eyes. I could see emotions at war, but I wouldn’t venture to guess what they were.
Finally he relented. “All right, you win. Guest room’s upstairs. First door on the left.”
I was so relieved I actually jumped off my stool and hugged him.
For half a second he went completely rigid. Then his arms circled around my waist. Lightly. As if he were almost afraid to touch me. Odd as it may sound, it actually felt kind of nice. His rough cheek pressed against mine, and I felt myself inhaling deeply the scents of spicy cologne and warm cappuccino.
“Thanks.” I lifted my face to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
And that was when it happened. Somehow his head turned. And instead of my lips coming up against stubbled cheek, they were suddenly on his lips. Soft lips. Lips that tasted like imported coffee. And they were moving, slowly, brushing over mine, warm breath whispering as they skimmed my bottom lip.
I think I made a little sighing noise.
And just like that they were gone.
I realized I had my eyes closed and opened them to find him two steps away, his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyes locked onto my mouth.
I blinked. What had just happened?
“Felix, I-” I started.
But he cut me off, his voice husky and thick with an emotion I didn’t want to guess at, as he turned his back to me and quickly grabbed both of our mugs, taking them to the stainless sink. “Guest room’s the first door on the left. Good night.”
I stood there watching his back for a full two seconds before I managed a feeble, “Good night, ” and followed the stairs to the first door on the right.
Which turned out to be a bathroom, because, of course, Felix had said “left, ” not “right.” So sue me if I wasn’t totally paying attention at that point. I’d just been kissed by Tabloid Boy.
And worse yet, I’d liked it.
I was on a beach. A white, sandy beach filled with palm trees and tropical breezes. The sound of the ocean roared behind me, the scent of salt water filling my nostrils as warm sun soaked into my skin. I was probably going to get a sunburn, but I didn’t care. It all felt too good.
I was wearing the itty-bitty blue bikini I saw on sale at Nordstrom’s last week, and lying on a soft lounge chair. I looked over to the side and saw another chair beside me. I was just wondering whose chair it was when he walked up. Shirtless. I think I drooled a little as Ramirez stood over me, his bronzed chest glistening in the afternoon sun, pecs rippling as he sank down beside me.
“Hi, beautiful, ” he said, his voice low and deep and accented with that unmistakable undertone of pure sex. He trained his dark eyes on me and slowly leaned in.
I closed my eyes as his lips brushed mine, letting myself melt beneath his touch. It was a slow kiss, long and sensual, as lazy as the sounds of the ocean crashing around us. I never wanted it to end. By the time our lips finally did part I was panting, my entire body burning for more. I slowly opened my eyes.
And saw Felix’s face hovering above mine.
I screamed, sitting straight up in bed. I took deep breaths (In…out. In…out.) My gaze whipped around the room. I was in a low, sleek bed. Blond wood, piled high with a white goose-down comforter and fat pillows. The walls were painted a stark white, splashed with abstract paintings in deep burgundies and greens. Plush white rugs dotted the hardwood floors, and the windows were covered in light, flowing curtains, gently swaying in the breeze.
It took a few minutes before I a) stopped panting and b) remembered where I was. Felix’s house.
I groaned and fell back on the pillows, covering my face with my hands. Had that really happened last night? What was wrong with me? Felix, of all people. He was dirt, slime, scum. There was nothing redeemable about Felix.
Never mind the fact that just yesterday I’d been waking up in a different guy’s bed. A guy who was supposed to be my boyfriend. Oh God, had I cheated on my boyfriend? Was a kiss cheating? Was I a cheater? What would Ramirez say? I had a vision of him punching that clown.
And groaned again.
It had been the gunshots. The peril. The long day. The endless fights with Ramirez. Mercury in retrograde! That was all, right? I mean, it wasn’t as if I wanted to kiss Felix. Besides, it was just a kiss. And an accidental one at that! He turned his head. I hadn’t even meant to kiss him. I hadn’t even enjoyed it!
Much.
I popped out of bed, still in the spandex monster, and grabbed my pumps in one hand, purse in the other. I made a feeble attempt at smoothing my bed-head as I gingerly stuck my head out the door, peeking into the hallway. No sign of life. Good.
I slowly padded barefoot down the stairs, hoping to slip out before Felix woke.
No such luck. As I rounded the corner I spied him in the kitchen, in much the same place I’d left him last night.
He was standing at the counter, this morning’s copy of the Informer spread out in front of him. Khaki Dockers hugged his frame, and, despite the fact that I’d almost convinced myself The Kiss hadn’t happened, I felt myself blush as my gaze strayed to his Magnum territory.
I cleared my throat.
Felix glanced up briefly. “Morning. Coffee’s in the machine. Cups in the cupboard above.” Then he returned to his paper.
I set my purse and pumps on a stool. “Thanks. Uh, about last night…”
Felix looked up and gave me a blank look. “Yes?”
“Um, I mean, I just wanted you to know that…I mean, accidents happen and…you know, Mercury in retrograde makes people do strange things and…well, it’s not like I…”
I searched his blue eyes, but nothing stared back at me. No trace of emotion or the awkwardness that had me verbally tap dancing all over his hardwood floor.
“Did you have something to say, Maddie?”
I bit my lip again. “No.”
“Hmm.” He grabbed his coffee cup and took a long sip. “You know, you’ve got a serious case of bed-head.”
See? Scum.
I stuck my tongue out at his back as I poured myself a cup of coffee from the stainless machine in the corner. I was just taking my first heavenly sip when my cell rang from my purse.
I crossed the kitchen to flip it open just before voice mail picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Maddie, ” came Dana’s voice. “I got your messages last night. You okay?” I heard her stifle a yawn as she asked.
“Yeah. Fine. Sorta.” I sat down and filled her in on the previous day’s events as I sipped my way through my steaming cup. “By the way, ” I asked as I finished, “where were you last night? Your roommate said you were out all day.”
Dana stifled another yawn. “Oh, you know, just kinda busy.” I heard her stretching.
“SA?”
There was a pause. “Um…yeah. Sure. SA. So, where did you end up spending the night?”
“Uh…” I looked across the kitchen. “My mom’s.” I cringed. Dana was my best friend. The last time I’d actually lied to her had been when I’d seen her tenth-grade boyfriend, Eddie Van Houton, kissing a cheerleader beneath the bleachers after fifth period. As much as I’d known the truth would hurt worse, I’d hated lying to her then. So I had no idea what made me do it now.