Any Way You Want Me - By Jamie Sobrato Page 0,74
he was hot for you, plain and simple.”
“And because it was a convenient way to gain my trust.”
“Seriously, have you ever met a guy who wanted sex for any other reason than simply because it’s his favorite thing to do?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“No, it is the point. You’ve got to stop letting this whole investigation thing bother you. If he got it up, it’s because he wanted to sleep with you. No other reason.”
Was Cass right? Yasmine wondered. Had she been too hard on Alex, and had he been too hard on himself? She thought of his otherwise strict sense of honor and realized just how right Cass was.
“Oh, hell.”
“You know I’m right.”
Yes, she did. And she felt like a fool.
“Do you think I’ve screwed up for good with him?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“What about you? Are you really going to mope your way through the New Year?”
“Do you have another suggestion?”
“You’re clearly unhappy with the Drew situation. Why don’t you at least open yourself up to possibilities? Maybe you’d be blissfully happy with him if you gave him a chance.”
“Or not.”
“Why don’t you offer him some sort of alternative arrangement—like sex with the possibility of something more.”
Cass was silent. Finally she said, “What if he’s horrified that I used to be a stripper?”
“Then he sucks, but there’s only one way to find out.”
She sighed. “I guess I’ve gone this far. I’ve already entered the complication zone. I’ll always wonder what might have been if I don’t give it a shot.”
“Should we go find our men?” Yasmine asked.
“I think we have to. It’s either that or sit here feeling sorry for ourselves on the most important night of the year.”
They were off the couch and scrambling for shoes and coats, and in less than a minute they were both ready to go.
They opened the door, and Yasmine was stepping out into the hallway when she spotted Alex. He was standing holding a bottle of champagne, looking contrite and gorgeous.
Cass looked at her and smiled. “I’ll be going now,” she said. “Happy New Year!”
And with that she was running down the stairs and out the door, leaving Yasmine and Alex standing there, silent, staring at each other.
“Call me optimistic,” he finally said, “but I was sitting home alone, trying to figure out what to do with myself, and I realized the only thing I wanted to do was come here and beg you to give me another chance.”
She wanted to play it cool, remain a little stoic, but she got all teary-eyed again instead.
“You’d better come inside,” she said.
17
CASS GLANCED AT THE CLOCK glowing green on her dash. She still had time. She’d gone home, changed clothes and grabbed her old portable stereo loaded with her favorite dance CD. Now she was parked in Drew’s driveway, trying to muster her nerve to get out of the car. If he was home, they could maybe ring in the New Year together.
If she was lucky.
Mere groveling might not be good enough. She’d have to take extreme measures, possibly, and she was prepared. She hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to see him again until she’d set her mind to the task.
With her insides trembling, she got out of the car, carried her stereo and some clothes in a duffle bag up the sidewalk, rang the doorbell and waited. Seconds passed, and she rang again just to be sure he’d heard. Then she breathed a sigh of relief to hear footsteps from inside the house.
When the door opened, Drew was standing on the other side, his glasses missing, his hair disheveled and his chest bare.
“I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” she asked, feeling foolish for not considering the possibility that he’d already have a woman with him.
“Actually, yes,” he said without betraying any emotion. “You woke me up.”
“Could you please let me in for a minute so we can talk?”
“No.”
“Okay, we can talk like this. I just want to say I’m sorry, and that I want to give us a chance. I may not be all that open to romance, but I’d like to at least be open to possibilities with you. So maybe we could, you know, keep having sex…and see what happens.”
“I don’t really see the point now,” he said.
“Would it make a difference if I were naked?” she said, setting her bag on the sidewalk.
His gaze dropped to her leopard-print trench coat. “It would be slightly more entertaining, but no, I can’t see how it would make a difference.”
“Let’s