“Dumped? You’re kidding. I assumed you finally called things off because you were tired of carrying on an exciting affair with postcards.”
He made a good point. Why hadn’t she ended the going-nowhere relationship?
Patrick possessed a fair amount of charisma, but that had been wearing thin even before he’d left town. She’d been philosophical about her lack of enthusiasm, though. None of the men she’d spent time with in the last nine months had caused much zing inside her. Without meaning to, without even realizing it until after the fact, she’d fallen into the dating equivalent of, “Why change the channel? Nothing else good is on.”
David leaned back as the waiter set down their plates, then asked as soon as the man walked away, “What did happen, exactly? With you and the Wanderer?”
“He was searching for inspiration. Apparently, it’s in Yuma.” She twirled pasta around her fork. “He’s staying.”
“I thought this whole roving-the-country thing was a chance to—help me out here?”
“‘Soak up myriad experiences and settings and return triumphant, synthesizing them into his work,’” she recited.
“Uh-huh. So, no synthesizing?”
Was it too late to tell the waiter she’d changed her mind about having a drink? “Yes. He’ll just be synthesizing in Yuma. He told me I was welcome to visit him, but Atlanta was ‘asphyxiating his art.’”
David’s lips twitched. “It can breathe in Arizona?”
“I hear they have good air there.”
He focused intently on his plate while he cut his steak into tiny pieces, all the while biting hard on his lower lip.
“Oh, just get it over with,” she ordered, fighting a giggle herself. “Go ahead and laugh.”
He did.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he’s a gifted artist,” David said, more magnanimous than he’d ever been when she was actually dating Patrick. “Lousy boyfriend, though. I never could figure out why you stayed with him.”
That was par for the course—David hadn’t exactly been drinking buddies with anyone she’d dated. The reverse was also true, though. From the preppie ex-prom queen Student Housing had placed Serena with to the string of cool blondes from family money she’d watched David date, most of his romantic choices made her cringe. Did he really have fun with those women? Come to think of it, he was probably asking himself the same thing about her and Patrick.
How could she explain that in some selfish way, the absentee relationship had been ideal? She’d been able to combat loneliness by being “involved,” yet she’d never had to give up her side of the bed. She hadn’t even shaved her legs unless she felt like it.
She shrugged. “My line of work, I’m pretty busy during the prime weekend dating hours, so I didn’t mind his being gone that much. I could call him if I needed to talk and still got gifts on my birthday and major holidays. Few of the hassles of a normal relationship, all the benefits. Except fantastic sex.”
David set down his fork and studied her for a long, electric moment. The humor they’d shared evaporated beneath the heat in his gaze. “You know, Serena, there are guys who could give you the friendly ear, birthday cards and space to do your job…and the fantastic sex.”
Her willpower whimpered.
DAVID’S provocative words were still fresh in Serena’s mind when she woke up bright and early Saturday morning. Well, not “woke up,” exactly, since that implied she’d actually fallen asleep sometime during the steamy night. Steamy partly because of her own thoughts, and also because when she’d tried to turn on the air-conditioner for the first time this season, she’d discovered it didn’t work. Good thing she’d turned down David’s request to see her home—what heat that would have generated!
After he’d taken her to pick up her car, he’d asked if she was sure she didn’t want him to follow her home. His gesture, though sweet, was totally unnecessary. She might not live in the most upscale part of town, but it wasn’t dangerous. Not nearly as dangerous as risking his being near her apartment or her ever-weakening willpower.
Which begged the question—why had she agreed to his picking her up here this morning?
Light spilled through the arched window at the other end of the loft’s railing, and she blinked, wondering how he’d talked her into helping him apartment hunt.
He’d lulled her into a false sense of security, she told herself as she stood under the revitalizing spray of the shower. During dinner, his sexually charged comments had tapered off just enough so that when he’d announced that he’d naturally want her input as an Atlanta resident while he shopped for apartments, she’d agreed.
Did he really catch you so off guard, or were you just happy for the excuse to spend more time with him?
Ignoring the skeptical inner voice, Serena worked her blue cypress bar into a lather and ran it over her skin. The natural soap was supposed to be soothing to body and spirit, but after a sleepless night of rebellious fantasies and aching memories, she too easily imagined David’s hands running over her slick body instead of her own. His wet fingers slipping along the curve of her hip, the smooth slide of her thigh…With a tight groan, she flipped the faucet control to Cold and rinsed quickly before pulling back the shower curtain.
If he could resume their friendship with no signs of awkward unease, so could she. In fact, keeping their relationship platonic was her idea. She couldn’t risk the possibility of ruining their friendship, no matter how badly she’d wanted him last night and still did this morning.
Sure, opposites attracted. Notice how there was no equally famous saying about opposites settling down and living happily ever after. James and Tricia had demonstrated vividly what happened when two very different people moved beyond the attraction and into the bitter divorce stage. Although there had been painful times when Serena’s parents had used their daughter as a weapon to hurt each other, at least she could take comfort in knowing she’d learned from their mistakes. The mere possibility that her friendship with David could one day end with the same sort of spiteful contempt as her parents’ marriage made her stomach clench in dread.
But she knew he was interested in being more than buddies.
When she’d first e-mailed him to say their making love had been a one-time fluke, he hadn’t seemed thrilled with her decision. Given his history of persevering until he got what he wanted—whether it was a class schedule with every course he’d desired to the most sought-after girl on campus to his number-one job pick—Serena wouldn’t have been surprised last night if he’d pushed her to change her mind. Instead, he’d made comments, such as the remark about her finding a man who could take care of her sexual needs as well as her emotional ones, but then he’d moved to safer topics.
By the time he’d driven her back to her car, she was almost wishing he’d just address their single night together directly so she had reason to reiterate her never-gonna-happen-again stance. But he hadn’t broached it, and she wasn’t about to bring it up first. Not when it was taking everything in her to keep it from happening again.
She ran a towel over her hair in a cursory gesture that wouldn’t really do anything to keep it from drying in whatever wild curls it chose. Serena actually liked it that way. She couldn’t imagine the time and care Alyson took plaiting her long red hair in all those elaborately braided styles. Besides, when your hair was already messy, you never let the threat of disarray keep you from enjoying something like the breeze off a lake or an afternoon jaunt in a convertible with the top rolled down.
Dressed in a pair of pink capris, an oversized T-shirt covered in sketched portraits by a local artist and a pair of vintage sandals, Serena headed downstairs, her heart rate accelerating as she realized David would be