Alyssa Goodnight - Austentatious

“Do you ... want a bite?” I asked lamely, twirling my spoon slightly.

“Where?”

My girl parts suddenly started clamoring for attention.

I didn’t answer—I had no answer—and given the evening’s dynamic, I wasn’t sure an elbow to the stomach was appropriate, which is how I would have dealt with Gabe. At that point, in that position, I wasn’t even sure I could move my elbow.

“Oh,” Sean wondered aloud, “did you mean a bite of ice cream? I assumed not—isn’t sharing a spoon akin to double-dipping?”

Someday I was going to find my footing with this man, but right now, I was so out of my depth my ears were popping. Not to mention my eyes.

“You’re right. My fault. And since I don’t want you to think I’m a tease, I feel like I should offer you something, so where would you like your bite?”

Now his eyes popped. I smiled and scooped up another bite.

He let his thumb slide down the back of my neck, and this time my shiver had nothing to do with ice cream or the temperature. Turning to object to such cruel and unusual punishment, I was totally unprepared to be ambushed. But with only a few inches between us, there wasn’t time to object. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure I had that much willpower.

His teeth—those perfect, straight white ones he’d been flashing since the beginning—settled gently into my lower lip for a playful little nip before his lips took their place.

I could feel myself melting slowly out of the carbonite and into him. Incompatibility shamelessly forgotten, I let myself sink into this really stellar kiss, let myself imagine the what-ifs ...

And that’s what did it.

I suddenly realized I had to stop while I still could.

We pulled away at exactly the same moment, and I reached my hand up to touch my lips, careful not to meet his eyes. I needed a distraction, a diversion, anything to avoid a second kiss and the complete annihilation of clear thinking. I didn’t think I could handle a second fall into a pool of mind-numbing lust and manage to surface coherent. I was struggling enough as it was.

“So ... ?” I said, not meeting his gaze. “How’d we get from a mushroom to this?”

His answer was immediate. “Through dumb luck, dogged pursuit, and winning charm. You’re so adorably in control, it just makes a bloke want to frazzle you. So here we are. Frazzled yet?”

I figured trying not to blush would be like trying to rein in all that Machiavellian charm, so I gave in to the inevitable, “Yeah, I’d say I’m well and truly frazzled. But I’m confident I’ll bounce right back.”

Then again, that could just be the bravado talking.

“Very sporting of you, Ms. James. And now, I have a question of my own.” I could feel the air between us shifting from silly to serious, and I tensed slightly in anticipation. “Just what exactly do you have against a man in a band?”

Whoa. Did not see that one coming. I supposed my choices were to lie outright or get pegged as a self-important clod.

Tell him the truth! my conscience demanded. Square hole, round peg, nothing personal.

I was poised to do it, but I felt my resolve weakening. I was already more than a little seduced and falling further and deeper under his spell. I could hear that little devil on my shoulder again ... Maybe I could stand to be a bit more flexible, a little more adventurous. It’s for a very sexy cause. I glanced at Sean, who was still waiting for my answer. Got lust, Nicola?

I gave my head a firm shake and started over. I could feel my pulse pounding out the passing seconds, but I couldn’t think through the storm of sensation. This should really be it—the moment of reckoning—but if I was really, painfully honest with myself, I could admit that I didn’t want this thing, whatever it was, to end.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, and this entire situation, in all its awkwardness, suddenly seemed undeniably, almost tragically funny. Thus Sean, waiting patiently for an answer, instead found himself faced with a maniacally giggling buffoon.

I sobered up quickly the second I realized that such a reaction might seem just slightly offensive, given our current situation and the question posed. And this time, I had no problem getting an answer off my tongue.

“Nothing. I have nothing against a man in a band.” I added a little dismissive shake of my head to punctuate. “I’m very impressed, and honestly, I’m thrilled for you. And flattered you took the time to stalk and bribe me.” The last, I have to admit, came off a little flirty.

“So you’d have no problem then saying yes to another date?”

“No. Yes,” I heard myself answering. “Yes to the date.” Fidgety with nerves, I stood and walked the few steps to toss away my trash. So much for sensible.

Sean followed, and the triumphant look on his face was very flattering indeed. “How about lunch tomorrow?”

How I remembered Brett amid the fog of infatuation and the haze of lust, I had no idea, but I did, just barely. “Meeting,” I countered, trying to look apologetic as we slowly made our way back to the parking lot.

“Fair enough. How about dinner and a film downtown tomorrow night?”

“Are you by any chance referring to a South by Southwest film screening?” I asked.

“I am.”

“Do you already have tickets?” I asked him, fully aware that they could sell out quickly.

“I have been known to occasionally plan ahead,” Sean informed me with a superior smile. “Shall I pick you up at work?”

We were standing between my sensible little car and his dangerous-looking motorcycle. “How about I meet you,” I countered, eyeing the shiny bike.

He smirked; clearly I was an open book. But judging from the way his body began leaning toward mine, he didn’t plan to challenge me. His hand tightened on mine, mine tensed in his, and I braced myself for the thrill of yet another kiss.

It shuddered slowly through me, leaving me limp with appreciation and sighing at its end. This kiss was way more dangerous than the others, probably because he’d clued in to the fact that I was, ever so cautiously, caving. I couldn’t seem to help myself—around Sean it was like I was no longer “master of my domain.” Figuratively speaking.

Fairy Jane was no doubt smirking to herself over the burgeoning success of her twisted little matchmaking scheme. I didn’t think anyone could argue that I wasn’t taking the romance at least somewhat seriously. Take tomorrow, for example: lunch with one guy, dinner with another. I was seriously in over my head.

Stopped at a light on Fifth Street, I realized I should probably head straight home, make myself some hot chocolate, and hunker down with my magical journal and its logic-defying key. I should be curious and eager to do some sleuthing—and I was. But right now, I didn’t want to read about Fairy Jane’s interference in other people’s lives—I wanted to deal with her meddling into mine. I needed some girl talk, and not the kind I was used to getting from next door.

Glancing at the clock on the dash—quarter after ten—I was pretty confident Beck was still up, either studying or defying the engineering stereotype in some way or another. I reached for the phone. She answered on the first ring.

“Beck! Hey, it’s Nicola.”

“Thank God! I left you a message hours ago, after I got your spazzed-out message, and I can only assume you have a very good reason for blowing me off?” The implication was obvious. “I’m ready to forgive. So anytime you’re ready ...”

I grinned, then bit the inside of my mouth. “Oh, I’m just calling to check in, see how your classes are going,” I lied.

There was a beat of silence on her end of the line, and I could hear funky music from unidentifiable instruments. My imagination ran wild, and I pictured an apartment with lots of jewel-toned floor pillows and dark wood, the air swirling with smoky incense. My nose wrinkled up a little.

“O-kay,” she said. “Things are good. I aced two exams this week—Control Systems and Lasers. Is that enough foreplay? Ready to get to the good stuff?”

“What?” It came out half-shocked, half-amused.

“I’m guessing you called with something more interesting than the day-to-day dramas in the College of Engineering, so as your very devoted mentee, let me just give you permission to gloss over my less-than-exciting life.”

My smile widened as I took a moment to revel in my life’s recent juiciness.

“Okay then. Way to go on the exams,” I said, trying to legitimatize our mentor / mentee relationship just slightly.

“Thank you. Now spill it. Or do you want a face-to-face? Because I’m totally up for it if you are. I’m actually a little burned out on studying, particularly while Talitha is trying her—well, belly, I suppose—at belly dancing. With all those little coins clinking and fabrics shimmying, it’s unbelievably distracting.”

“I’ll bet. Well, if you’re positive it wouldn’t be interrupting something more important, then in-person would be great.”

“Awesome. It’s Glow Bowl night at the Texas Union.”

My eyebrows came together in uncertainty. “Glow Bowl night?”

“Come on! It’s the perfect place to gossip—no one will overhear a thing.”

Somehow I found myself agreeing to that, and ten minutes later, I was descending underground, into the din. Between the music (that rock / rap combo stuff), the crack of pool balls, the smack of bowling pins, and the animated conversation, I felt confident my secrets would stay with me. Beck would be lucky to pick up the general gist.