I Want It That Way. Ann Aguirre
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“I wasn’t trying to slip it past you.”
“That doesn’t seem like your style,” he agreed.
“I only meant that you look tired. Not that you aren’t also—” I bit my tongue to stanch the flood of potentially humiliating words.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Finish that sentence. Please, Nadia?”
A little shiver went through me. If he ever figured out how much power he wielded over me with those three syllables, I was doomed. He might not even be aware of it, but his voice deepened, softened, just a touch, when he spoke my name. Enough to make me think he might be into me a little bit.
Appealing as all hell. So incredibly hot. Get-in-my-bed sexy. Since I had a single, that wasn’t even a fantasy I could indulge without adding a bunch of details like a hotel room or whatever. I wondered what kind of bed Ty slept in. God, stop thinking about him that way. This can’t happen.
But my mouth wasn’t taking orders from my brain. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Answer one question for me.”
His voice went flat. “That depends on what it is.”
In that moment, I imagined shutters coming down, gates being drawn across windows for the night. I suspected he thought I was going to ask about Sam’s mom. And I hoped I would surprise him, always, in good ways. It was clear to me he didn’t want to discuss that sort of thing with me. At least not yet. We were baby-new, just starting, whatever we were.
Friends.
So I said, “Tell me what you dream of designing, once you’re a big-deal architect.”
“Oh.” Relief and perplexity colored his tone, warmed it. He was smiling again—I couldn’t resist peeking at him. Ty ate the peanut butter cup as he thought. “It’s good to hear you say it so implicitly, like my success is assured. The road feels really long sometimes.”
“I can imagine.”
“I’ve been in school since I was eighteen, but after Sam was born, I cut down to part-time. Anyway, you didn’t ask to hear me whine.” He paused, tapping at the arm of his chair with a shy look. “Damn. I don’t know if I can answer this after all. I’ve never told anyone.”
That startled me, making the question seem more meaningful than I’d realized. “It’s okay, but...in that case, I won’t be completing my sentence.”
He cursed, the first time I’d heard him swear. My smile felt like it might crack my cheeks. The ache in my chest was back, but it was all things irresistibly sweet and good. I set my fingers on the railing like I could touch him from here, and in tiny, incremental gestures, I traced the almost-distinguishable shape of his features. Someday I wanted to trace his nose like this and kiss his ears and— God. No more. I trembled a little, not from cold, but from want. How crazy, this was the best first date I ever had.
And it wasn’t one. Was it?
Definitely not.
“You drive a hard bargain. Okay. I want to design churches.” He shifted, creaking the love seat, and then went on, “I doubt I’ll be able to right away. I’ll probably end up doing offices or condos to start, but eventually? I would desperately love to design a church someday, see it built from each individual stone to stained glass panels so I can stand inside it and marvel.”
“Why?” I didn’t think it was an odd question. Up until this moment, Ty hadn’t struck me as particularly religious; he didn’t have the Jesus fish on his car.
He exhaled in a soft, trembling sigh. “So I can thank God personally for Sam.”
The need to make such a grand gesture spoke of such a deep, abiding love that tears actually welled up in my eyes. Despite my best efforts, they spilled over, trickling down my cheeks. I covered it by cramming a peanut butter cup into my mouth and washing it down with tepid tea, but it didn’t taste quite right. My voice would probably give me away.
But when I didn’t speak, he said, “That probably sounds dumb. Or pretentious. I can’t believe I—”
“No.” I couldn’t let him think that, and I leaned forward in my chair for emphasis. “Not at all. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard. Sam is so lucky to have you, Ty.”
“I’m the lucky one. I just wish I could remember it for more than five minutes at a time.” He paused, cocking his head, and I drew back, not wanting him to see but it was too late. “Are you crying?”
“Maybe a little. Shut up. It’s just...so very sweet.” My voice broke slightly, and I swiped at my eyes, embarrassed at how easily he got to me.
He could reach right into my chest and pluck out my heart.
“I’m glad I told you,” he said softly.
“Me, too.”
“But we had a deal, remember? No backing out.”
“I wouldn’t.” Finding the right words felt like a lightning-fast fencing match in my brain. Deliberately I repeated what I’d babbled only in my head before, measured this time, conscious of what I was putting out there between us. It didn’t matter if this was a bad idea. I’d promised.
“Not that you aren’t also...hot as hell, completely irresistible in every conceivable way.”
A sharp intake of breath from Ty.
Once I said it, I didn’t have the guts to wait for his reply. Quickly, I grabbed my stuff and carried it inside, closing the glass doors firmly behind me. Shaking like a leaf, I padded to my room and shut that door, as well, like he might be chasing me. The wood was all that held me upright. God only knew what I’d say to Lauren if she came home right now, because I wasn’t ready to dish.
Not by a long shot.
Even then, I suspected what was to come between us. His silent, secret yearning to build a church for his son marked the beginning of my complete and utter fascination with the man downstairs. Yoga breathing steadied my nerves, but not the flutters deep in my belly. I’d lobbed the ball pretty firmly into his court.
Now I just had to wait and see if he’d pass or play.
Music throbbed from the speakers, vibrating the floor. Saturday night our apartment was crammed with people, standing room only. Max seemed pleased, and Angus was mellow, making out with his boyfriend, Josh, up against the kitchen counter. Josh was a tall, lean guy of Puerto Rican descent with black hair and melting brown eyes. He caught me looking and smirked over Angus’s shoulder.
“Perv,” he mouthed.
Lauren nudged me with