Calling Me: Calling Me Back Part 7

Ash laughed. "He's not so bad. He got me out of prison a couple of years back. I owe him."

"Somehow I find that very hard to believe," he said, smiling at her as though he was imagining her naked. "What do you do?"

"I'm a nurse."

"A girl in uniform? My night keeps getting better and better." He winked at her and my irritation rose.

While Isaac was distracted by the waiter, I placed my arm on the back of her chair and leaned in close to her ear. "Do you want to swap seats?" I asked. "You can sit here if you can't see the stage properly."

Ash put her hand on my thigh and goose b.u.mps radiated across my skin. Her dress was having a very bad effect on me. "He's fine," she said, knowing the motive behind my offer only too well. "Fun. And anyway, I can handle myself. What do you think I do when you're not around?"

How could she think he was fine? The guy was a d.i.c.k, and he wasn't even drunk yet. "If he tries anything, you let me know."

"Okay, dad." She grinned and turned away to answer a question Isaac was asking of her. He wasn't going to monopolize her all evening. I would make sure of that.

The guest to my left, a woman from finance, asked me something about the wine. I tried to be polite, but I was distracted. I wanted to talk to Ash, and I didn't want Isaac anywhere near her.

"You think we'll win?" the woman on my left asked.

"Not a chance. But, what is it they say? 'It's nice to be nominated.'"

"That's bulls.h.i.t," she said.

I nodded.

I glanced across at Ash and Isaac. He held her hand, her palm facing up, as if he were Madam Zorba about to do a reading. She was laughing. What was he saying to her? Why was he touching her?

I was relieved when we were called to order and the evening began. At least it meant Ash's attention was on the stage and not Isaac. The host was well-known television comic David O'Connor. I watched Ash as she sat engaged by his introduction, laughing at his jokes about how boring lawyers were.

She leaned into me. "It's like he knows you," she said, giggling.

Was that what she thought of me? A boring old lawyer? We had fun together, didn't we? I knew I always had fun when I was with her, but maybe the feeling wasn't mutual.

"I'm not that dull, am I?" I asked. To be heard over the chatter and the comedy act, I shifted my chair closer to hers. I got a waft of her familiar perfume again as I dipped my head to her ear. I reached across and moved her hair from her neck, exposing her delicate skin. Her eyes flitted to mine, and I thought I could see a blush color her cheek. I shouldn't be touching her like that. It wasn't something we did. I mean, we hugged and comforted each other, but we'd never touched in a way that was undeniably . . . s.e.xual.

It felt forbidden.

She leaned away from me, and my stomach flipped at the thought I'd stepped over some line that we'd created decades before.

Ashleigh My skin burned beneath the skim of Luke's fingers across my neck. Had he meant to touch me like that?

It had been a bad idea, coming tonight. I needed s.p.a.ce, but I couldn't ever say no to him. I didn't need to be reminded of how much he made me laugh, how I could just be me around him, and how he seemed to like it. I certainly didn't need to be reminded about how good he looked in a tux. Some guys could just pull that off, and he was one of them. His frame was tall and broad, like something out of a Tom Ford advert-it was built to wear a tux. It should be mandatory for men like him. When I'd first seen him tonight I couldn't help but straighten his already straight bow tie. However much I resisted, I was drawn to him.

The guy on the other side of me, Isaac, was being very attentive and I was trying to concentrate on what he was saying. He was attractive, though not as naturally handsome as Luke. I let myself enjoy his attention a little. I tried to focus on him rather than Luke, who was sitting so close to me, looking like he did, feeling like he did.

"How long have you been with Luke?" Isaac topped up my wine gla.s.s. I was already light-headed. I shouldn't drink anymore.

I smiled. "We're not together. We're old friends." He sees me as a sister, I almost said. But I didn't feel like his sister, and he hadn't touched me in a brotherly way.

"So you're doing him a favor by being here. That's nice of you. He's a lucky guy. And a stupid one, if you've only ever been friends."

"Luke isn't stupid, but we've only ever been friends. And hey, it's not such a big favor. I'm having a nice evening."

"Well, he's done me a huge favor, introducing me to you. I feel like the luckiest man here tonight, sitting next such a beautiful girl."

I smiled. Isaac had a few cheesy lines, but they very obviously covered up a sweet guy. I'd dated a lot worse.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Isaac asked. I felt Luke's hand on my thigh, as if he wanted to interrupt.

"I just broke up with my boyfriend a couple of weeks ago," I replied. "Excuse me," I said as I turned to Luke.

He was frowning at me as I looked at him. "You split with Richard?" he asked. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because last time I saw you, you told me you and Emma were finished, and my breakup didn't seem very significant. I forgot."

"Nothing that happens in your life is insignificant to me." My stomach tilted at his words. I wished he meant them differently. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. We weren't right." I had barely thought about Richard since the last time I'd seen him.

"You ended it?" he asked.

"Yeah. I didn't see any point in staying together if I knew we weren't really suited."

"He wasn't the one?" His eyes fixed on mine.

I blinked then held his gaze. "No." It was almost a whisper.

Luke's brow creased and he looked away. "Do you think I should have ended things with Emma sooner?"

I shrugged. "Only you know that."

"But you know me better than almost anyone," he said, and for a moment I wished it weren't the case. It would be so much easier if he were just my best friend's brother.

"That may be true, but I don't know what you want in a woman. I don't know what holds your attention." I was playing with fire.

His gaze drifted to my lips and then back to my eyes. I could see words start to run through his head-they had almost left his mouth when our table erupted with applause. The people we were seated with, including Isaac, were hugging each other and clapping their hands together. I glanced back to Luke, who was being slapped on the back by a guy on the table next to ours. They must have won.

Champagne corks started popping and Isaac thrust a drink into my hand. He clinked my gla.s.s. "This turned out to be a great evening. Maybe you're my lucky charm." he said. "I shouldn't let you out of my sight."

I smiled at him. "So, what happens now? People just get drunk? Or should I say drunker?"

"That and some dancing. Tell me you'll dance with me when the band starts?" he asked.

"I'm not much of a dancer. We'll see."

"Sounds like a promise to me," he replied. "Excuse me for a moment, I've just seen someone I need to say h.e.l.lo to." Isaac left the table.

I felt a hand on my upper arm, and I turned toward Luke. "You seem to have made quite the impression on him," he said, his gaze sweeping between my eyes and my lips. I didn't know how to respond. "But don't dance with him," he said softly.

It felt heavy between us, as if there were words all around us that we weren't saying. I needed air. I needed us back. I raised my eyebrows. "You don't want me to dance? Afraid I'll embarra.s.s you?" I asked, playfully elbowing him in the waist, trying to dispel the tension between us, surrounding us, encircling us.

The band started up with a slow, soulful song that seemed slightly at odds with the party atmosphere in the room.

"No, it's not that. I just . . . I just don't want you to. If you're going to dance with anyone, it should be me."

I tried to keep my smile even. "What do you mean 'should'?"

"I don't know." He held out his hand, and I took it tentatively. "Come on," he said as he led me across the room to the dance floor.

I'd never danced with Luke. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember the last time I'd slow danced with a guy. High school, probably. I wasn't sure I could remember how. Thankfully, the dance floor quickly became busy, and Luke guided us through the couples to the far end, away from the tables.

"So, how do we do this?" he asked as we stood facing each other.

I laughed, relaxing at the fact that his thoughts were so similar to my own. "I really have no idea. We can go and sit back down if you like."

He bent to hear me, and his hands circled my waist. Sparks went off across my body. I reached up, pushing my palms up his chest to his shoulders.

"No," he said. "I want to dance with you."

He watched my face for reaction but I looked away. I couldn't let him see that I wanted to dance with him too. His hands slid up my back and he pressed me against him. My heart was racing; I wasn't used to this amount of physical contact with him. My whole body was touching his as we swayed in time to the music.

Luke bent his head to my ear so our cheeks were touching. "Are we doing this right?" he asked.

I didn't know how to respond.

"It feels right," he said.

It felt too good. I shouldn't have let this situation get so out of hand. I had had far too much to drink and now I was here, in Luke's arms, tricking myself into thinking what I was feeling was mutual. I should stop, push him away. I should go home. At the end of this dance, that's what I would do. I had spent the last few months trying to close off my heart to Luke, and doing a pretty good job, and now here he was opening up old wounds.

"You look beautiful tonight. I mean, bombsh.e.l.l beautiful," he whispered.

I should make him stop saying these things. He was feeding my addiction to him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked when I didn't respond. His hands roamed down to my waist then slid up my back again.

"I think I like dancing with you more than I should," I replied. His lips brushed my neck, but in the mayhem of sensations a.s.saulting me, maybe I imagined it.

The song ended, and I started to pull away. "Not yet," he said. "Can we stay here, like this, for a bit longer? I don't want to go back."

Those words had more meaning than he'd intended, didn't they? What did he mean like this? Like Ash and Luke-lifelong friends-but closer, touching, on the brink of something?

Luke She felt so good. This felt so good, so right. Did she feel it too? I didn't want to be here anymore. I wanted it to be just Ash and me. I didn't want to talk to all these people who were part of my working life. Ash was my real life.

The music changed to something more up-tempo. She pulled back again, and this time I let her. "Wanna get out of here?" I asked.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay and celebrate your win?"

"Have you still got that tequila you brought back from Mexico at your place?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Let's go and have a celebratory shot."

She grinned, and we headed out, my hand at the small of her back. I didn't want to lose contact with her, not for a second. We didn't stop to say we were leaving; we just headed to the exit, found a cab. I was nervous. I'd been to Ash's place a million times, but tonight was different. Tonight, she wasn't just Ash my best friend, she was Ash the bombsh.e.l.l. Ash who I had slow danced with. Ash who I'd almost kissed. Ash who I wanted to kiss.

"So, thanks for inviting me tonight," she said, almost as if she was trying to find something to say.

"I'm really pleased you came," I said. I meant it.

"I'll be your fill-in date anytime." She grinned at me. She was so beautiful. The light collected around her, making her glow.

I took a beat just to savor that incredible smile. "You'll never be that, Ash." Her eyes narrowed, just slightly. If I hadn't known her, I wouldn't have noticed. "You're no-one's understudy."

"I just meant-"

"I didn't invite you tonight because Emma and I'd split-I asked you before that happened. I asked you because there was no one I'd rather spend an evening with." I meant it.

She didn't respond, so I searched her face to see if she'd understood. I found a mixture of confusion and apprehension on her face. Was I coming on too strong? Did she not feel this?

The cab pulled up to her building before I got a chance to ask her. I followed her into the night air and into her building. We were silent in the lift. Every atom of my body wanted to pull her toward me, but I resisted. I didn't want to scare her. I'd hate to spoil our friendship if she didn't feel the same way. I couldn't live without her in my life in one way or another-but in that moment I wanted her to be my whole life.

"So, tequila," she said as she flung her bag on the hall table, kicked off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen. I followed her, pulled out two shot gla.s.ses from the cupboard above the refrigerator and then grabbed limes, quickly cutting them into slices. I knew her kitchen almost better than I knew the one I'd shared with Emma. Ash produced the tequila and the salt, and we settled ourselves in the living room, sitting on the rug, our ingredients set out in front of us on the coffee table.

We exchanged glances, as if we knew we were at the starting line. I raised the tequila bottle as a question and she nodded.

"We should do a truth or a dare before every shot," she announced.

I grinned. Perfect.

"You start," she said.

I carefully poured out the shots, trying to formulate a question that would open the door without scaring her off. "Did you find Isaac attractive?" I asked. I wanted to know the answer. What was her type? Was it Richard? Isaac?

Me?

She frowned and regarded me carefully. "He's good looking," she said as my heart sped up. It wasn't the answer I'd wanted. "And funny, which is important. I guess a little." Jealousy gnawed at my gut and I tried to take a deep breath without her noticing.

"Do you have a type?" I asked. My attention was focused on her lithe legs as she shifted to sit cross-legged in front of me.

"Hey, you can't have two questions in a row. Do your shot."

I grinned, licked the back of my hand, poured on the salt and did my shot. I felt Ash's gaze on me. What was she thinking? I closed my eyes as the tequila burned a trail down my throat. What was she going to ask me?

I watched as she refilled my gla.s.s. "Your turn," I said.

She ran her index finger across her bottom lip as she considered her question. Blood sped to my c.o.c.k at the thought of her mouth on me.

"What do you want me to ask you?"