Mirage - Alice Tribue Page 0,16
have to be careful. Any person who I invite in could easily hurt me given the right information.
“Can you take me home now please?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just late, and I have to be up early.”
He holds my stare. I try to give nothing away, but I feel like he sees right through me anyway. He looks at me as if he knows exactly whom I am—exactly how I feel and think.
“All right, let's go.”
We make it back to the bike, I give him my address, and we take off. I revel in the freedom I feel on the back of his bike, soaking up the last moments with him before I tell him good-bye because I know it will be the last time I let myself see him. When we finally make it back to my apartment, I rush off the bike and make quick work of removing the helmet and handing it back to him. He takes it and hands me my purse.
“Good night, Nathan,” I call as I back away from him, make it up the stairs, and to the front door without falling.
He responds. “Good night, babe.” His face is hard. If I had to guess, I’d say he was borderline angry, but he stays near his bike, making no move to come toward me. Fumbling with the key, I finally get the front door open and move to walk through just as he speaks again. “This isn’t good-bye.”
“Nathan.”
“I mean, it’s fine if you want to tell yourself that, but I don’t think even you believe it.”
“We’ve hung out a few times. This is hardly a relationship worth fighting for. What is your deal? What do you get out of the chase?”
“Good night,” he says with a grin, mounting the bike again and taking off before I can say another word. I’m beginning to think that Nathan doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.
CHAPTER FOUR
The sound of banging on my front door causes me to jump. I check the time on my cell phone and wonder who in the hell could be at my door before eight in the morning. Whoever it is couldn’t have chosen a more inconvenient time to show up. Luckily, I’ve taken my morning shower and my hair is now styled, but I’m still lingering in a bath towel. I grab the terrycloth robe that hangs on the bathroom door and put it on, tying the belt as I make my way to the door.
“Fuck,” I say barely above a whisper when I look out of the peephole. How in the hell did he get in my building? I think to myself as I undo the deadbolt and the lock.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” I half yell as I fling open the door. It’s the last thing I’m able to say because, somehow, Nathan is in my apartment, the door is closed, and I’m pinned against it. It all happened so impossibly fast that I don’t have time to fight or protest when his lips descend and claim mine. My hands instinctively move to his shoulders and give an unsuccessful push. I open my mouth to argue and regret it instantly when he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. This is about the point where I lose all coherent thought and will to fight. He’s won; the battle is over. The tension begins to leak out of my body, my arms twine around his neck, and I begin to kiss him back.
My acceptance registers with him, and the intensity of his kiss goes from hot to blazing. His hands haven’t left the door, but still, I can feel him everywhere and I want more. A moan escapes from my lips. It’s a plea for more, but instead of giving it to me, Nathan pulls back breaking the kiss and grinning down at me.
“I thought I’d buy you a coffee and give you a ride to work.”
“I thought I told you good-bye last night?” I ask, sounding breathless.
“And I told you that it wasn’t good-bye.”
“So, you’re just going to push your way into my life?”
“As long as I think you actually want me to.”
He has my number; there’s no point in arguing, at least not at this time of day. I’ll get that cup of coffee in me first and then see how I feel. I roll my eyes to communicate my faux displeasure and add in a sigh for good measure.
“I’m going to get dressed.”
“Wear pants.