Ann Aguirre - I Want It That Way

“What time is your chariot leaving?” Max glanced over at me, raising a dark brow.

“Seven.”

Angus observed, “You’re half an hour early. That says you’re anxious.”

“Thanks for that,” I mumbled. “What happened to shopping?”

“We’re waiting for you to leave,” Lauren informed me. “How else can I judge his reaction to my kick-ass cosmetology?”

I sighed, tempted to make a break for it, but in these shoes, they’d catch me. There was no help for it but to endure. At ten to seven, I stood up, brushed my teeth and came back to the living room with my purse. All three of them were waiting by the door.

“Please tell me you’re not walking me to his apartment.”

Max laughed. “She’s screwing with you. We’re going to dinner.”

“Thank God.”

Though we all left together, they went straight out the front while I continued to Ty’s apartment. Maybe some of Lauren’s teasing had taken root, though, because I fantasized about him taking one look at me then shoving me against the wall. I needed that kiss, to dig my fingers into his shoulders and wrap my legs around his hips. The reasonable me would never press him, never ask for more than he was willing to give, but I wanted him so bad it hurt. His words. My pulse thundered in my ears.

At my knock, Ty threw the door open and literally froze. His eyes locked on mine, then they swept lower, skimming my breasts, the flare of my hips, and the line of my legs. Usually, I hated when guys did that instead of maintaining eye contact, but with him, I craved it. His gaze lingered on my thighs, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. A shuddering breath escaped him, a more visceral response than I’d dared expect.

“Wow.” He sighed, shaking his head. “From this I can only extrapolate that you hate and want to kill me.”

Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. “Excuse me?”

“I told you how I feel about your legs. Now you’re showing them off, fully aware I’ll be thinking about them all night.”

Put that way, it did sound diabolical. I struggled not to reveal how much he turned me on, just with words. The fact that he was so honest about what he wanted and why he couldn’t have it—Ty was perfect. How good would it be if we ever touched, if he ever lost control? Heat worked through me as I considered it even as I battled my longing, because if we fucked and he regretted it—not worth considering. In that scenario, our friendship went down in flames and didn’t rise from the ashes like a phoenix. Afterward, there would be only awkward silence and endless remorse.

“My outfit was not, in fact, selected from homicidal design. Don’t I look like a flapper?”

“You look like heaven. Let me get my keys.”

We walked out of the building in silence.

Ty opened the passenger door for me, a gesture that shot holes in my platonic pretense. I slid into the Focus and then looked for the lever to slide the seat back a few inches. He shook his head at me, grinning.

“Must everything you do be orchestrated to remind me?”

I cut him a look, smiling with my eyes. “Is it my fault you only give rides to hobbits?”

“My mother resembles that remark.”

That surprised a laugh out of me. “Don’t you mean resents?”

He winked. “You haven’t seen her feet.”

“If I ever meet her, I’m telling her you said that.”

“She’ll laugh,” he predicted. “Plus, you were the one who mentioned hobbits. You can’t implicate me without revealing your own complicity.”

“Crap. Foiled again by logic.”

“Feel free to mess with the radio or you can connect my iPod, if you want.”

“That could be interesting.” Taking that as an invitation, I opened the storage arm between us and plugged in his music player, then I set it on shuffle. “Let’s see what your musical taste says about you.”

“You already know more than most anyone.”

Not everything. Not about Sam or his mom, why she left or where you work. The National came on first, but he’d already told me he liked them. No secrets there. I set the volume so we could talk.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s never been this easy with anyone else.”

The way my heart crimped, it actually hurt. “I know what you mean.”

Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. Ty glanced at the screen and shook his head. “Nope. This is my only weekend off. Sam is the best kid ever, but he’s not restful.”

“Work?” I guessed.

“Yeah. Whenever a project hits a snag, the foreman calls me to sort it out. I didn’t even know we had any crews working tonight.” He sighed faintly. “I’ll hear about ignoring the call on Monday. ‘I took a chance on you, Tyler, but you have to pull your weight.’”

“Took a chance? Weren’t you qualified?”

“Not really. My dad’s buddy runs a construction company, and he needed an office manager. I didn’t have any experience, and only general studies classes behind me, but my dad convinced him I was smart enough to learn on the job. So Bill hired me on the cheap with the understanding he’d only keep me if I made good on Dad’s claims.”

“How did that go?”

“The first year, I was exhausted and screwed up all the time. I had to learn so much shit, it’s a wonder Bill didn’t fire me. So I took some online management classes while going quietly insane. I’ve got a handle on things now, but...it was a long haul.”

“Do you get calls on the weekends a lot? What about Sam?”

“It’s usually some bullshit about paperwork, permits, did I file this or that, what did the inspector say again, that kind of thing. I don’t take extra shifts, so Sam’s fine.”

He sounded so disgruntled that I had to ask, “Is there any part of the job you do like?”

“The benefits are good. And it’s not bad to learn this side of building, considering that I want to work in design later on. And yeah, I know that architecture’s a pretty depressed field right now, but it’s supposed to rebound in five years or so. At the rate I’m going it’ll take me that long to complete my undergrad work, let alone a master’s.”

“You don’t need to justify your dreams to me, Ty.”

“If that’s true, you’d be the first,” he muttered. “Anyway, sorry for letting work put me in a bad mood. Monday is soon enough to deal with whatever that was.”

“You already warned me that you’re a grumpy asshole,” I pointed out.

“True.” But he was utterly charming for the remainder of the drive.

He told me the history behind the whiskey bar we were going to. Apparently, it really was a speakeasy back in the twenties, and it was situated below another bar. I’d never been anywhere like that, so I was excited on that note alone, but going with Ty, that was the frosting on the cake. Downtown Ann Arbor was hopping, so we parked a few blocks away. He came around to open my door, and when I climbed out, I realized we were exactly at eye level.

“You’re 6’1,” I said.

He grinned. “Tonight, so are you.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind anything about you, Nadia.”

Briefly, I entertained the idea of pushing him against the car, but I wrapped a choke chain around the impulse.

“Which way?” I murmured.

Ty set a hand in the small of my back to guide me, below the red jacket, so there was only the thin chiffon between his palm and my skin. He kept close as we walked, his hand on me like a claim. By the time we got to the venue, his palm felt like a searing brand. Though it had been a while, Ty had obviously been here before. He led me to the side steps and down into the cellar.

Inside, the ceilings were low and resembled chalkboards. Buckets of chalk sitting around indicated we were supposed to scrawl our own messages if we felt like it. The place was half-full, casual seating throughout. A few people were milling around; others had claimed conversation pits while still more preferred regular tables and chairs. The small stage gave the space a sense of intimacy; if the acoustics were good, this should be awesome.

Ty homed in on a pair of chairs toward the corner of the room, fairly close to the entertainment. With a glance, he confirmed it was fine with me, and I followed him over. Once I was seated, he said, “Get you a drink?”

“Sure. See what interesting beers they have. Something local, if possible.”

“Your wish is my command.”

I really wished he wouldn’t say things like that. If this was how Ty treated a friend, then I’d eat Lauren’s damned dress. Hungrily, I watched him walk away, admiring the fit of his jeans. Since he was wearing a blue-striped button-up and a navy corduroy jacket, I didn’t think that was how he’d dress to hang out with a pal, either. Talk about mixed messages. But maybe he didn’t realize how it was coming across, how much this seemed like a date.

“All set?” I asked, as he sat down next to me.

“I ordered the five-beer sampler. They brew all their beers on-site, apparently. And I got us a basket of thyme and cheddar biscuits.”

“That sounds incredible.” Until he said that, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

“They’re my favorite thing here, though the pulled pork nachos are awesome, too.”

I glanced down at my lap and grinned. “Thank you for thinking of my dignity.”

“In that dress, I promise your dignity is not remotely on my mind.”

Okay, enough. “Ty, you have to stop flirting with me. I can’t take it.”

“Sorry. It’s just that when I look at you, I forget about being smart and reasonable and I just—” For once he seemed to be at a loss for words.