Anybody but Justin Page 2

  She closed her eyes for a moment to savor the first few chords of the Daughtry song that came on. When she opened them, another jogger breached her peripheral vision from behind and she moved to the right to let him pass.

  Instead of moving beyond her, he came up beside her and slowed his pace.

  What the hell? She frowned and cast a sideways glance his way, then nearly tripped over her own feet.

  “Hey.”

  She read the greeting on Justin’s lips and pressed the stop button on her iPod.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, not slowing her pace.

  “Jogging,” he replied, his grin widening. “What are you doing?”

  Her pulse quickened and it had nothing to do with the exercise this time.

  “You don’t jog,” she pointed out, resenting the fact that she sounded winded and he didn’t.

  He looked completely at ease and hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  “I thought it was a good time to start.” He shrugged and kept pace with her.

  “How did you—” she drew in a deep breath, finding it a little difficult to carry on a conversation at this point in her run, “—know I’d be jogging here?”

  “I didn’t. It was a long shot. I knew this used to be your standard route, but you could’ve changed.”

  Apparently she should’ve changed. Jerking her attention from him, she focused her gaze straight ahead and ground her teeth together.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I told you I’d call you.”

  “You wouldn’t have.”

  He’d read her that well, had he? She should have known.

  “I’m not talking now. I’m running.” Her jaw clenched and she picked up the pace, hitting play again.

  Any further conversation he might have tried to make got drowned out by her music. For a moment, she hoped he’d take the hint and just turn right back around and leave her the heck alone.

  Instead, he stayed abreast, continuing to match her steady pace, but made no effort to talk further.

  She drew in an unsteady breath, silently cursing him out for putting her in this position. Literally. They were so close, the hard muscles of his arm kept brushing against her shoulder—each touch sending the heat radiating off him straight through her body in tingling waves.

  By the time she started to become okay with the fact that he wasn’t leaving, they’d arrived at her apartment.

  When she slowed, he did so as well, casting a curious glance at the building beside them.

  Gabby hit stop again and pulled the earbuds from her ears.

  Justin braced his hands on his hips, breathing in deeply—finally, he looked a little winded!—and eyed the complex with narrowed eyes.

  “This your new place?”

  “Yeah.” She pulled the rubber band from her hair and redid her ponytail. Leave. Just leave. Please don’t ask—

  “Mind if I come up and see it?”

  Her chest expanded with the slow breath she drew in, but she forced a small smile.

  “Not at all. Come on up.” She turned away from him, her pulse quickening and her mouth drying out.

  This wasn’t happening. It just couldn’t be. She’d successfully avoided him for months now, hoping he’d take the hint.

  And yet here he was, about to step foot into her new apartment.

  She was all too aware of how close he stood behind her as they reached her door, and her fingers trembled as she grabbed her key from the pocket of her shorts.

  “You okay there?” His question feathered across her ear and she winced, overshooting the keyhole and scratching the wooden frame.

  “I’m fine.” She clenched her teeth and directed the key into its target location with more force than necessary.

  With a silent harrumph to celebrate her success, she twisted the handle and pushed the door open.

  Justin followed her inside, his gaze moving around the average-sized apartment with open curiosity.

  Her furnishings were sparse, just the one love seat and kitchen table she’d had when she’d lived at his house. Jesus, it seemed like just yesterday. And, at the same time, it seemed like a millennium.

  His gaze followed her as she tossed her keys onto the table and walked to the kitchen.

  The soft curve of her ass swished beneath the nylon shorts she wore, her bare, tanned legs stretched out beneath the hem.

  He forced himself to look away from her backside, especially once he felt the familiar rush of blood to his dick.

  This is Gabby. You know it’s a bad idea. It was a bad idea that one night, and it’s still a bad idea.

  Checking out women was hardly anything new for him. He loved women and everything about them. Their softness, the sway of hips in their walk, the smell of them, the enticing sounds they made when he found just the right spot to—

  “Do you want some water?”

  He blinked and thrust a hand into his hair. “Yeah. Thanks, Gab.”

  If he hadn’t been staring at her back, he might have missed the tensing in her shoulder. She sounded normal, uttering a breezy, “No problem.”

  His brows drew together and he bit back a sigh. She obviously felt uncomfortable around him. Damn it. Why?

  She turned from the sink and left the small kitchen, the glass of water outstretched in her hand.

  “So, what have you been up to?” she asked, her gaze avoiding his.

  The moment he took the glass from her, she moved past him into the living room a few feet away.

  “Working.” He followed her to the love seat and sat down. “The normal stuff.”

  Partying. Dating entirely too many women, yet spending too many nights alone and missing something. Missing Gabby.

  She made a barely audible harrumph, but when he glanced up, her expression was carefully blank. That was odd, she never hid her emotions from him. And yet, from the moment he’d run into her in the store this morning, she’d had one big wall up.

  He took a long drink of water and then set the half-empty glass on her coffee table. He stared straight ahead for a moment, debating what to say. He was here in her apartment. Damn it, he needed to say something.

  “So, why’d you move out the way you did?”

  Gabby spit her water back into her glass and coughed. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re stalling. Why can’t you just answer the question?”

  “Justin…” She set her glass down on the table next to his and offered an abrupt shrug. “We’d discussed the possibility I’d be moving out—”

  “Someday in the nowhere-near future,” he said tersely. “The deal was we’d shake up the living arrangement when one of us got serious with someone we were seeing.”

  She gave a soft laugh, but it didn’t hold humor. “Right. And we both know you’re not the type to get serious.”

  Tension rolled through his muscles and his jaw flexed. He turned in the seat to look at her. “What does that mean?”

  Pink filled her cheeks and she swallowed hard. “Nothing, Justin. I wasn’t being serious.”

  “You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.”

  “Look, please forget I said it. I was just kidding.”

  But she hadn’t been. At least not entirely. He drew in an unsteady breath, his head swirling with the memories of all the time they’d spent together.

  Both of them had dated a lot, had rarely held a relationship that lasted longer than a couple of months. They’d discussed their dating habits many times. Had laughed about it.

  And yet, this time she’d flung the words at him as an accusation—there’d been no teasing.

  His gaze dropped to where her hands were fisted on her lap. Impulsively, he reached out and caught her wrist, sliding his fingers downward to force her hand open again and then holding it. It was a gesture that wasn’t uncommon for them, and yet she attempted to pull her hand free.

  “Look at me, Gab.”

  Her shoulders rose with the deep breath she dragged in, and th
en she tilted her head to give him a sideways glance. Her eyes were carefully schooled. He knew that look. She’d come to poker night too many times with the guys for him to not recognize that you won’t get shit out of me look.

  “I want you to be completely honest with me,” he said quietly and tightened his grip on her hand—her dainty, soft hand. His brows drew together. Had her hands always been this feminine?

  “Okay.” She arched an eyebrow. “Are you going to ask it?”

  He shook his head, wondering how the hell she was managing to get him so damn flustered.

  “Yeah. I’m gonna ask it,” he said gruffly and then focused his attention on her face again. “Did you move out because of that night?”

  The only sign that he’d shocked her was the slight widening of her eyes. But then she narrowed them just as quickly and a sardonic grin slipped across her mouth.

  “That night? Ah, Justin, you’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that. We lived together for a couple of years.”

  “Damn it, Gab. Don’t pull that crap on me. Anyone else might buy it, but I don’t.” He scowled. “You know exactly which night I’m talking about.”

  Her fingers arched against his hand, but he didn’t loosen his grip. The slight smell of sweat from their run lingered in the room, with the overlying scent of her lotion. Some melon thing she’d worn the entire time he’d known her. It had never seemed seductive before, but now…

  She lowered her gaze from his and her tongue swept across her bottom lip before retreating safely back into her mouth.

  Desire stirred low in his groin and his next breath in wasn’t quite as steady. Jesus. He still wanted her. The idea rocked him to his core.

  Bad idea, Justin.

  “Are you telling me—” He leaned forward and caught her chin, his face just inches from hers. Very bad idea, Justin. “—that you don’t remember this?”

  The need to remind her of that night consumed him. Her eyes widened in trepidation, just before he lowered his mouth down onto hers.

  So soft. So sweet.

  When she would have pushed him away, he moved his palm to her back and held her still, moving his mouth against hers.

  Half a year. How had he gone a half a year without her? And why had it taken two years for them to reach this level of intimacy?

  His tongue teased the crease of her mouth open, and then slid inside to taste her.

  The angry sound she made morphed into a frustrated moan and finally one of surrender. Her tongue moved out to meet his—almost angry in the bold strokes she made to tease him.

  Justin’s blood pounded through his veins. His entire being focused on the smell of her, the press of her breasts against his chest, and the soft sounds she made as she kissed him back. Sounds that alternated between pleasure and frustration.

  Her hands slid up to his shoulders to wrap around his neck, pressing her body snugger against his. The scrape of her hardened nipples against his chest sent another rush of blood to his cock, bringing it fully erect. He groaned, grateful for his loose running pants.

  He explored her mouth thoroughly, teasing the hidden spots before returning to spar with her tongue. His hands, which had been resting on her waist, slid up her ribcage to just under her breasts.

  He barely hesitated before sweeping his thumbs up to stroke over the tight peaks of her breasts. He lifted his lips from hers just a fraction to allow her strangled gasp, before he captured her mouth again.

  All rational thoughts on why he’d come here tonight—because it couldn’t have been for this, could it?—abandoned his mind. The need to touch her naked skin, to taste the salty sweet softness of her flesh, swept through him.

  He deepened the kiss, caught her nipple between two fingers and pinched, all while easing her onto her back on the couch. It was a move he’d mastered in years of seducing women.

  Tonight it failed.

  Gabby wrenched her mouth from his, shoving him so hard he fell off her and onto the floor.

  “Stop.” She scurried off the couch and across the room from him. “What was that, Justin? What the hell was that?”

  He winced, picking himself up from the floor. His balls ached and his dick still throbbed with the need to be buried inside her. Inside…Gabby. Shit.

  His stomach clenched and he thrust a hand through his hair. Her question was a good one. What the hell had he been doing? Seeking out a repeat performance for the night that had likely killed their friendship?

  Feeling like the biggest ass on the planet, he lifted his gaze to look at her. Her nipples were outlined against her tight shirt, her lips swollen, and her eyes held a mix of anger, desire and…fear.

  “Gabby—”

  “If you set out to prove that I want to screw you silly, then congratulations, Justin.” Her laughter sounded a bit unsteady and she folded her arms in a protective gesture across her breasts. “Fine. I want you. I won’t apologize for that or deny it.”

  The air in his lungs refused to leave. His chest tightened. Gabby wanted him too. Gabby—

  “But there’s no way in hell I’m going to act on it,” she finished flatly. “Because that would make me stupid.”

  Chapter Three

  Gabby watched the myriad of emotions flicker across his face. Surprise, disbelief, and then finally annoyance.

  Of course he was annoyed. Justin wasn’t the type of guy who got turned down.

  Disappointment burned in her stomach, but she refused to dwell on it. Even as her swollen breasts ached from his brief touch and the promise of so much more. So much she could never accept from him. Friendship, yes. A sexual relationship? No. Hell no.

  “I don’t understand.” His jaw flexed. “I didn’t set out to prove anything, Gab. I didn’t plan for any of this. But since you’re being so damn blunt, I think I’ll just return the favor.”

  Her pulse jumped in anticipation of what blunt could mean with him. “Please, don’t—”

  “I want you, too. I want you in a way I haven’t wanted a woman—”

  “Stop right there, Justin.”

  “I can’t.” He stood abruptly and lifted his hand toward her.

  She flinched and reared back from him. Her face burned as she realized what she’d done.

  Surprise swept across his face and then confusion. He lowered his hand and didn’t stop her as she moved a step backward.

  “Did you think I was going to hit you?” he asked, disbelief thick in his tone.

  “No.” Her cheeks warmed further. “No, of course not.”

  He didn’t look convinced by her response; his brows still remained knit together.

  “Gabby? What am I missing here? Why are you so afraid to take this thing between us to the next level?”

  “Because I can’t trust you!”

  Her hoarse words hung in the air—increasing that invisible barrier between them. She could’ve sworn she saw a flicker of hurt on his face, but then it was gone.

  “How can you not trust me? Jesus, Gab, you know me inside and out. I considered you my best friend—”

  “That’s just it,” she said quietly and closed her eyes briefly. She hadn’t wanted to go here with him. Hadn’t wanted to have to admit it. “I do know you, Justin. I know you entirely too well.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re going to give me some crap line about how sleeping with me would be like sleeping with your brother?”

  “No!” She laughed and some of the tension left her body at his ridiculous question. “I wouldn’t have been all over you like white on rice a minute ago if I remotely had that brother vibe while kissing you.”

  A smug smile flitted across his face before he straightened it and cleared his throat.

  “Okay, so what’s the problem? Why don’t you trust me?”

  “Because I know how you are with women.” She turned away and walked back into the kitchen. There was no way she would let him see the vulnerability she knew would be naked on her face. It was an effort to keep her words light.
“You sleep with a woman for a few weeks…maybe even a month or two, and then it’s over. You move on.”

  “Gabby…”

  “I don’t want to be one of those women, Justin. I won’t.”

  There was no response right away. Was he mad? Disappointed? She stared out the small window in the kitchen and drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “I don’t know why you’re casting stones from a glass house,” he finally said. “In the two years we lived together, you never once had a long-term relationship.”

  “Maybe not,” she admitted. “But there were a helluva lot more women passing through the house than men, Justin.”

  “Not that many more.”

  She turned, startled at the sudden tightness in his words. When she looked at him again, his expression had turned surly and his hands were shoved into his pockets.

  “What, did you keep track or something?”

  He didn’t reply, which sent a wave of butterflies through her stomach. He wouldn’t have kept tabs on the men she’d dated, would he? By all appearances, he’d barely noticed when she did date different guys.

  “We’re more alike than you think. I don’t see how it could hurt to just see where this thing between us goes.”

  Why did he keep pressing? Her pulse sped up and she ran her tongue over her lips. No way. It was simply too crazy to contemplate.

  Twice now Justin had touched her in a way that went beyond platonic. That was two times she’d gotten swept away on a rush of desire, but more so, had felt the tugging at her heart. Of wanting to let someone in. Lord, he already had one foot into the door of her heart, having been her best friend.

  But Justin was not a man she could fall in love with. She just couldn’t. It wouldn’t end right at all. The best-case scenario, she’d end up with a broken heart. The worst case…she’d end up like her mother.

  “I’m sorry, Justin. I won’t risk our friendship.”

  “Friendship? What the hell friendship is that, Gab?” His words turned harsh. “You moved out like some damn felon on the run. Don’t return my calls, my emails. It was sheer luck I ran into you at the market today. What kind of friendship do we have exactly?”