Leaning Into Touch (Leaning Into Series Book 4) Page 4

  “This way,” I said, turning to my left. “It’s only a couple of blocks.”

  Finn smiled and fell into step beside me. It seemed quieter on the street than it was earlier; there wasn’t as much foot traffic. Typical for midweek, I supposed. I breathed in the refreshing night air, loving the faint smell of the ocean. I shivered and crossed my arms. So much for enjoying a leisurely stroll. It was cold as fuck out here. I picked up my pace, but Finn pulled at my elbow to stop me.

  “Are you daft? Where’s your coat?”

  “I f-forgot it at the last bar. It’s okay. I’m cl-close.” I visibly shook when the wind whipped up the sidewalk, sending a scrap of newspaper flying by us like a paper airplane.

  “Let’s go back and get it.”

  “No, my friend will give it to me later. Or her friend will. I’m almost h-home so—what are you doing?”

  “Put this on, then.”

  Finn shrugged his suit coat off and set it over my shoulders like a cape or a cloak. He was two inches taller than me and far more muscular. It was like being wrapped in his warm, cologne-scented embrace. The gesture was so chivalrous, it left me speechless for a moment. I knew he was just being kind, but I couldn’t contain my smile.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Are you sure you won’t be too cold?”

  “Where I’m from, this is a summer breeze. You need it more than I do. Now tell me about your mates. I’m relieved to know you weren’t out drowning your sorrows on your own tonight.”

  I snickered at his paternal tone. “I’m not above it, that’s for sure, but no…I was with my work crew for one last happy hour. Marley insisted. She was the redhead with the awesome curls I was with this morning at the museum.”

  “I remember. She’s the one holding your jacket for ransom, eh?”

  “Yeah. She’s on a mission to find the perfect man for me,” I huffed, making sure he saw my eye roll before we turned the corner to my street.

  “Has she ruled out women? You’re bi, aren’t you?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what I am anymore. I had girlfriends in high school and even in college but after the first time I was with a man, I haven’t been interested in anything but dick.”

  Finn laughed. “Good to know.”

  “What about you?” I asked, leading him down a brick path and up a short flight of stairs.

  I leaned against the bright red door as I fumbled for the house key in my front pocket. In my head, I was planning a cinematic-worthy good-bye. Something lighthearted but sincere before we parted for the last time. It would have been a helluva lot easier to concentrate if he wasn’t standing so close and looking at me like I was the last brownie on the buffet table. I cocked my head and waited for him to break the spell.

  “I like dick too,” he said in a husky voice I hadn’t heard in far too long.

  I gulped and licked my bottom lip as he moved in, bending slightly to brush his nose against mine. He surrounded me in every possible way. The heat of his body and the warmth of his coat draped me in a seductive cocoon. I felt woozy with a rush of desire so intense, I would’ve swayed on my feet if he hadn’t been standing so close. I set my right hand on his hip to steady myself and leaned in…just as he pushed away.

  Finn let out a ragged breath and swiped his hand over his stubbled chin. “Fuck. I forgot how bloody difficult it is to walk away from you.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “We can’t do this, Josh,” he said softly as he pushed a stray piece of hair from my eyes. “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not—okay yeah, I guess I am. But only a little.” I turned toward the door and stabbed the key into the lock. I was embarrassed now. So much for a smooth hasta la vista. I didn’t think I was capable of a graceful good-bye at this point. The best I could hope for was that I’d forget everything in the morning.

  I unlocked the latch and stepped inside the dimly lit foyer. The rest of the house was cloaked in shadows. Grant must have gone to bed already. I’d lost track of the time; for all I knew it was midnight. This felt like the longest day and it had certainly turned into a strange night, I mused, glancing at the hunk standing in my doorway.

  “Josh, I—”

  “Don’t say anything else. I’m already embarrassed. Let’s just say good-bye. Good luck with your pretend fiancée and your business stuff and…you’re a good guy, Finn. I wish you well.” I braced my hand on the door and smiled faintly, expecting a like response and a swift exit.

  He stared at me thoughtfully and then inclined his head. “Jusqu’à ce que nous nous reverrons. Until we meet again.”

  I watched him traverse the steps and move down the narrow path to the sidewalk. He stopped to wave. Then he put his hands on his hips and frowned before heading back toward me.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, opening the door a little wider.

  “You’re wearing my coat.”

  “Oh. Ha. I’m sorry. I forgot I had it on.” I whisked the garment from my shoulders and held it up. “Thank you. I would have turned into a popsicle by now if you hadn’t lent it to me.”

  Finn took his coat and pulled it on with a wry grin. “All right then. I’m off.”

  But he didn’t go anywhere. He stood there, looking like the best gift the postman ever left on my doorstep and suddenly, I didn’t give a fuck about propriety. Yeah, I’d had too much to drink and there was a decent chance he’d push me away, but if this was the last time I’d ever see Finn, I couldn’t let him go without tasting him once more. I grabbed him by the lapels and yanked him against me before crashing my mouth over his.

  He froze for half a beat as though he were weighing how best to handle the weirdo clinging to him like a piece of Saran Wrap. I knew I should have released him, but I just couldn’t. I tilted my head and cupped his neck possessively and that’s when he let go. He slipped his tongue between my lips as he wrapped his arms around me and molded his chest against mine.

  God, he felt incredible. He was fit and muscular with toned abs and a beautiful ass. I sucked on his tongue while my hands roamed under his coat, up his sides, and down his back. I ran my fingers along his spine and squeezed his ass as I ground my pelvis against his, humming into the kiss with wild abandon. When our hard cocks brushed through our clothes, I came unglued.

  I pulled him into the foyer and shut the door with my foot. He fell sideways against the wall and turned to switch our positions. A little too quickly. My head hit the wall with a thud. Finn cradled my neck and then massaged my scalp.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That was clumsy.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  He moved his arms to either side of my head and stared deep into my eyes as though he was looking for something. I didn’t dare speak. I didn’t want to upset the balance and unwittingly encourage coherent thought. Maybe it was tequila doing the thinking for me, but being caged between the wall and Finn’s powerful body felt too fucking amazing to pass up. It was best to be quiet and see where this led. When he leaned in slightly and licked my lips, I purred like a cat, slipping my fingers into his belt loop and then yanking him against me.

  Finn rained kisses over my face while he plucked my shirt from my jeans and splayed his warm hands over my chest, stopping to tweak my nipples. I arched my back and hooked my leg over his thigh in an effort to find friction.

  “Feel so good. Let me taste you, Finn. Please. Right here.”

  “Here? Wait. Stop. We can’t—”

  “Yes, we can,” I insisted.

  He held my arm to stop me from face-planting when I swayed to my left in my haste to get on my knees. “No. Not like this.”

  “Huh? Why?” I cupped his obvious erection through his suit pants and flashed a knowing grin that probably didn’t look as suave in reality as I hoped. “I can tell you want me too.”

  “I’ve always wanted you. That isn’t the problem.”

  He captured my hand and kissed it softly in a courtly gesture that might have made me swoon if my brain wasn’t
working so hard to understand why there was a stop in the action. According to my calculations, we should be ripping each other’s clothes off and racing to my bedroom now.

  “Then let’s go up—”

  “Not tonight. Not this way.” Finn threaded his fingers through my hair and drew me close to press a kiss on my forehead. “I’m going to call you tomorrow to check on you. Will you promise to answer?”

  I furrowed my brow and nodded slowly. “Okay, but—”

  “No ‘buts.’ Lock up after me and go to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning. G’night, Josh.” He moved toward the door, pausing to give me one last smile before he stepped into the night.

  I stared at the space he’d vacated for a long moment. The silence taunted me, daring me to make sense of the past couple of hours. In my muddled state, I simply couldn’t do it. I felt like a race car driver screeching to a halt on a dead-end road. My heart was thumping against my chest and the swoosh of blood through my cranium made it difficult to hear myself think. It was just as well, I thought as I turned the lock and switched off the light in the foyer. No doubt I’d spin over my drunken idiocy while nursing a mega hangover tomorrow. There was no point torturing myself now. Embarrassment and certain regret could wait until morning.

  2

  My brain pounded against my skull, waking me up well before my alarm. I didn’t have to be anywhere in particular, but I didn’t want to laze the day away. I’d hoped the specter of prolonged unemployment would be muted by my hangover, but it was amplified instead. I was in a weird state where my mind was racing but I felt sluggish and I ached all over.

  I sat up slowly and glanced around my semi-dark bedroom. I’d been renting from Grant for six months and had yet to really make the space seem lived in. The navy striped duvet on my queen-sized bed was the only splash of color. The walls were white, the blinds were white, and the headboard and nightstands were black. In my defense, I thought of my sojourn here as a temporary arrangement. When my previous landlord put her condo on the market, I needed to find something quick. However, the cost to rent even a tiny studio in San Francisco was astronomical in the current market. I was grateful when Grant offered me his guest room. I figured I’d be out of his way in a couple of months, tops, but I hadn’t found anything new within my price range, and Grant seemed to like having me around.

  We’d fallen into a mature version of the college kids we’d once been when we shared a dorm room fourteen years ago. I liked it. His place was a three-bedroom, two-bath modern townhouse in a prime location in the Castro district. We were walking distance to some of our favorite restaurants, gay bars, and the famous Castro Theater. I knew I was spoiled. My previous tiny condo a few blocks away hadn’t been updated in thirty years. Now I was living in a swanky place owned by a former underwear model turned realtor who didn’t like living alone and didn’t trust many people. If it wasn’t so fucking cold in here all the time, I might never want to leave.

  I pulled on a pair of gray flannel pajama bottoms and an old Stanford sweatshirt and shuffled to the bathroom before heading toward the scrumptious smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen.

  “Mornin’,” I grunted.

  Grant glanced up when I walked into the room and automatically pulled a second coffee mug from the cabinet. He held a steaming cup of java up like a gift from the gods and pointed to the barstool on the opposite side of the island. Then he set it in front of me with a wry grin.

  “You look like you got run over by a truck,” he observed casually.

  “I did. I’m waiting for it to come back and finish the job. Fuck, I’m miserable. Why do I do this to myself?”

  “ ’Cause it’s always fun ’til you wake up.”

  “Story of my life,” I huffed humorlessly before taking a sip of coffee. Nirvana. I’d be just fine after five more of these. I hoped.

  “Was it worth it?”

  “I can’t remember,” I deadpanned. “I need caffeine before I even try. What did you do last night?”

  “I went on a date.” The spark in his eye made my impossibly handsome friend even more beautiful.

  Grant Kostas was gorgeous. He was six foot two with dark brown hair, green eyes, olive skin, and a body to die for. The guy didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. He was built like an Olympic swimmer with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and toned muscles. He was literally a Greek god. His parents immigrated to Toronto before he was born, but he’d lived in the Bay area since his freshman year at Stanford. I’d been slightly in awe of him when I’d first met my new dorm mate. He was the kind of handsome that turned heads. I remembered thinking if I stayed close to him, some of his cool might rub off and I might actually get a date or two.

  It seemed like a decent idea, except Grant wasn’t overly cool. Actually, he was painfully shy. And alcohol didn’t help. He was a tragic lightweight. During college, we used to take turns babysitting him because after two drinks, he’d either be getting blown in a stranger’s bathroom or passed out on their sofa. Eventually he mastered the trick of how to nurse one cocktail at a party or a bar, but there was a time I’d just shake my head at him when he woke up looking like I did now and say, “Dude, if I looked like you and you held your booze like me, we’d both be unstoppable.”

  “A date?” I winced when my attempt at waggling my brow sent a stabbing bolt of pain through my brain.

  “Yeah, with the lawyer I met at the gym last week.”

  “The one you said was so ’roided up you couldn’t imagine what he looked like in street clothes?”

  “Steroid Steve,” he said with a chuckle. “He looks great in jeans, by the way.”

  “What about naked? Rumor has it, you take too much of that shit and your penis shrinks. In extreme cases, it doesn’t work so well either. Erectile dysfunction, impotence…a man’s worst nightmare. Especially a horny gay man.”

  Grant snorted. “We didn’t get that far. We kept our clothes on. Did you? I heard voices last night before I went to bed. And you were breathing kind of hard. I was going to check on you, but then you started groaning and—”

  “Oh, my God. Stop.” I held my hand up and lowered my head, bracing myself against the flood of unwanted memories. Holy fuck. What had I done?

  “Uh-oh. Who were you with?” Grant asked in a concerned tone.

  I couldn’t answer right away. Frankly, I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was remembering. Had I really pulled Finn into the house and offered to blow him? I pushed the coffee aside and buried my head in my hands.

  “I can’t do real life. Not today.”

  Grant tugged at my hair until I swatted his hand away and glared at him. “Is he still here?”

  “No. I woke up alone. I—” My eyes widened theatrically. “Shit. I think I did.”

  I scrambled to my feet and hurried to see if I was telling the truth. I braced myself on the doorjamb and stared at the rumpled mess of sheets in the middle of the bed and the duvet I’d kicked off the side when I’d gotten up earlier. Phew. No one was there. And there was no evidence that anything sexy had gone down. No condom wrappers, lube, or cum rags lying on the floor. The coast was clear.

  I let out a relieved sigh before making my way back to the kitchen to reclaim my seat at the island.

  “No strays,” I reported, raising my coffee cup victoriously.

  “Hmm. How was it? It couldn’t have been that good if you didn’t notice him when you got out of bed,” he snarked.

  “It didn’t happen. Thank God.”

  “Not your type?”

  “Finn is definitely my type but—”

  “Finn? The Irish guy you had a thing for last year? I thought you were over him.”

  “I am. I think,” I said, lifting my mug like a shield. Grant was a little too intuitive this morning. I wasn’t ready to deal with censure no matter how well deserved. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I didn’t sleep with him. But not because I was taking the moral high ground. He turned me down.”

  “Oh.”


  “Yeah. Another fine moment.”

  I filled Grant in on the details of my evening, amazed and disturbed by the clarity of my memory now that the caffeine began to kick in. Damn.

  “Ouch. Poor Joshy. You need to get laid. But not with an ex.”

  “Finn isn’t my ex. We had a sort of arrangement. That’s all. I liked him. Eric and Nick warned me he was bad news but…”

  “The sex was that good?”

  “Yeah, it was amazing,” I gushed. “And in spite of what Eric and Nick claim, I always thought Finn was a good guy. I still think so.”

  “There are a lot of good guys out there.”

  “And yet we’re both single,” I reminded him in a sarcastic tone.

  “Details, details. You’ll meet someone new.”

  “I’m not in the market. I’m a train wreck when it comes to men. The ones I want are unattainable or just flat out assholes and the ones who want me…I usually wonder what’s wrong with them.”

  “Oh shoot, I didn’t realize this was a pity party,” Grant teased.

  “It’s not. I’m sucky company. I’m hungover, perma-single, and newly unemployed. I just want to crawl back into bed and take a rain check on today,” I sighed before adding, “After I complete twenty job applications, of course.”

  “I have an easy solution to your problem. Work for me.”

  “Grant…we talked about this. I’m an art geek. I’m not real estate material.”

  “Neither am I. Not everyone gets their dream job right away. I was supposed to be designing my own fashion line, not writing sales contracts for Silicon Valley execs looking for a high-rise getaway in the city. I got roped into this gig by my dad.”

  “At least it’s a lucrative gig.”

  “But it isn’t my career of choice,” Grant huffed then skirted around the island and sat on the barstool next to me. “This is a temporary hell for me too. I’m going home this weekend, and I’m hoping my dad tells me he hired someone with more experience to take over this office.”