One Night Page 10

  I met Liza through Kira, who knows her because of Austin. Liza's sister, Ivy, is dating Jake Wheeler, Austin's older brother. Last week, Kira and I met Austin and his three brothers at a bar for drinks. His brothers' girlfriends were there and all us girls started talking, and Ivy mentioned her sister, Liza, worked at the hospital where I had just applied for this internship. She gave me Liza's number and that led to today's meeting.

  "Liza?" I ask, when I see her sitting at a table by the window. Ivy showed me her picture so I knew what she looked like.

  She stands up and smiles. "Amber. Nice to meet you."

  "Nice to meet you too." We both sit down. "Thanks for doing this. I'll try to be quick. I don't want to take up too much of your Saturday."

  "Don't worry about it. I'm not in any hurry. So Ivy said you want to know more about the hospital?"

  "Yeah. I applied for three internships for the spring semester. If I'm lucky enough to get more than one offer, I'll have to make a decision so I'm trying to get more information about each place."

  "Well, I think you'd really like working at the hospital. I've only worked there since last summer but so far I really like it."

  "You work on the children's floor, right?"

  "I do. It's sad to work with sick kids, but it's also really fun. The kids have such a great attitude that sometimes it's hard to believe they're sick. Did Donna tell you about the holiday fundraiser?"

  Donna is the woman I'd be working for if I got the internship. She's head of the corporate communications department which handles all the marketing, communications, and event planning for the hospital, including fundraisers. The holiday fundraiser is to raise money for the children's cancer unit.

  "She mentioned it during my interview. She said anyone's welcome to help, even if we don't end up getting the internship."

  "Are you going to do it? You'd get paid, and it's a really fun event."

  "I told her to sign me up. I just need to let my manager at the restaurant know."

  I never quit my restaurant job from last summer. The tips are good and I'm able to have flexible hours. I only work when they need someone to fill in, which isn't very often.

  "So what do you want to know?" Liza asks.

  "Let me grab us some drinks before we start. What would you like?"

  "Caramel machiatto." She gets her wallet out.

  I wave it away. "It's on me."

  After I get our drinks, we sit and talk for over an hour, not just about the hospital but other stuff. Liza's fun and easy to talk to. I already feel like she's a friend. Before I leave, we make plans to go out again.

  Back at my apartment, I change clothes and get ready for work. I'm going to be a horrible waitress today. I'm completely distracted, wondering if Dylan got my letter and if he'll write me back.

  On my way to my car, I stop at the mailbox. There's a letter inside from the hospital. I rip it open and smile when I see the first line.

  We're happy to inform you you've been chosen as an intern for the spring semester.

  The letter goes on to give details about the holiday fundraiser, saying that if I want to, I could start next week, helping with the marketing and promotion of the event. I get out my phone and email Donna to tell her I'm excited about the job and would be happy to start next week. Out of all internships I applied for, the hospital was my first choice and Liza just convinced me I made the right decision.

  So at least my career is on track. Now if I could just figure out my love life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Amber

  "Too early," I moan, fumbling to turn off my alarm. It's Sunday and I forgot to turn my alarm off last night. I hit the button, silencing it, but five minutes later it goes off again.

  "Fine, I'll get up," I say to the alarm, too awake to fall back asleep. I'll have to take a nap later. My mind's awake but my body is exhausted from work yesterday. There was a convention downtown so the restaurant was busy from the time I got there to the time I left. I even missed one of my breaks, but I made out big on tips. It's the most I've ever made in one shift.

  I go to the kitchen to make coffee, but first stop and check the front door for a letter. I know it's too soon to get one, but I still check. Vandyl performed last night so Dylan probably didn't get home until two or three in the morning. It's just after eight now so I'm sure he's asleep. Maybe he won't write back for a few days, or a week. The wait is killing me. I want to hear from him again.

  After a quick breakfast, I take a long hot shower, then put on yoga pants and a soft, oversized t-shirt. I'm going for comfort because I have to spend the day working on a paper, then studying for a test.

  Around ten, there's a knock on the door. Who would show up here on a Sunday morning? Maybe someone went to the wrong apartment.

  "Who is it?" I yell as I walk to the door.

  "Special delivery," a deep voice answers.

  Special delivery? What does that mean? I check the peephole, my body freezing up when I see that it's Dylan. What is he doing here? He's supposed to write me, not show up at my door! I'm not ready to see him. I'm a mess. A sloppy mess, wearing a baggy t-shirt with my hair in a ponytail and no makeup on.

  "Amber, I know you're in there," he says in his regular voice. He was faking his voice earlier, pretending to be a delivery guy. "Would you open the door, please?"

  "I'm kind of busy right now."

  "I need to give you something."

  "Just leave it at the door."

  "I can't. I have to give it to you in person."

  My heart's beating so fast I can barely breathe. I deeply inhale, trying to calm down but it doesn't work. My heart knows Dylan is just a few feet away and it really wants to see him.

  "Amber," he says.

  "Yeah, okay." I open the door and see him there in dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and black leather jacket. His hair is tousled like he didn't bother to style it this morning. And he hasn't shaved so his sharp jawline is covered in scruff. He's even hotter than when I saw him in May.

  "Hey." He gives me that same sexy smile he gave me at the party that night. The one that led us to a bedroom. "This is for you." He hands me the envelope. His letter. It's in a regular envelope this time instead of a card envelope. He must've found stationary paper.

  "Thanks." I feel like my mouth isn't working, or my brain, as I stare at the guy I've been dreaming about for six months.

  He's staring back, but seems calmer than me. I'm practically shaking. Why am I so nervous?

  "So...can I come in?" He laughs a little.

  "Oh, um, I um..." My brain still isn't working. I can't even form words or sentences. What is he doing here? The thought leaves my mouth. "What are you doing here?" I step aside to let him in.

  "I told you, I had to give you something." He still has that smile as he comes into my apartment and closes the door.

  I hold up the envelope. "You already gave it to me."

  "I could've just left that at your door. That's not what I came here to give you."

  "I don't understand."

  He steps up to me and his hand cups my cheek, his eyes moving over my face. "You're even more beautiful than I remembered." He leans in and my heart starts pumping so fast I feel lightheaded. His lips press softly against mine, and just that small movement, that barely-there kiss, is enough to feel those sparks again.

  He remains close, his breath hovering over my mouth. I grab his shirt and yank him closer, just like I did that night.

  He kisses me again, and I part my lips, wanting more. His tongue moves over mine and I nearly melt to the ground, held up only by Dylan's arm which is now around my waist.

  His kiss, and the way he holds me, is just liked I remembered. Like I'm home. Back at a familiar place that shouldn't feel familiar at all because I barely know this guy and yet being with him feels so right. He doesn't feel like a stranger. He never has.

  The door swings open. "Oh, shit." I hear a guy say.

  Dylan and I turn and see Kira and Austi
n at the door, staring at us.

  "Sorry!" Kira says, stumbling back into Austin. "We'll leave. We're leaving right now." She turns to Austin and shoves him out the door.

  "You don't have to leave," I say, but they're already gone. That's just great. Now I'm going to have to explain this to Kira. Except I don't even know how to explain it. I don't know what's going on here.

  Dylan still has his arms around me and that big grin on his face. "I knew it wouldn't change."

  "What?" And then I realize he means the kiss, and the chemistry between us.

  "It was even better than last time."

  "I know," I say, my shoulders slumping.

  "Is that a bad thing?"

  "No. It's good. But it's going to make this difficult." I bite my lip.

  The action draws his attention to my mouth and he slowly leans down and draws my lip from between my teeth and kisses me.

  "We can't do this," I whisper, even though my body disagrees as it relishes the effect his kisses have on it. "We have to slow down."

  He backs up enough to see my face. "Why? I know you feel the same way I do. I can feel it."

  "Which is why we need to stay apart, at least until we get to know each other."

  "Amber, we can have both. We can get to know each other and do this. People do it all the time."

  "Yes, and it confuses things, and takes the romance out of the relationship. It becomes all about sex and nothing else."

  "So what are you saying?"

  "That we need to keep our distance while we take time to get to know each other. That's what the letters are for."

  "We can still do the letters but..." He glances to the side, seeming frustrated.

  "I knew this wouldn't work. You said you'd try but you're already giving up after just a day."

  "I'm not giving up. I just...I just don't know why we can't see each other."

  "Because whenever we're together, this happens." I feel my face heating up. "I can't control myself around you."

  "So don't." His voice is soft, his head lowering to the side of my neck, his lips grazing my skin. "Just let us be together."

  My resolve is weakening, my body craving him. Even his scent, fresh and masculine, is intoxicating, making me want to give in.

  "Dylan, I can't do this."

  He stops and backs away. "Do what? Us?" He sounds panicked.

  "No, I meant sex. I don't want us having sex. I was serious when I said I wanted to take this slow. I know it seems meaningless now that we've already done it, but it's important to me. I want us to take this slow. So will you do it?"

  He ponders it. "What about kissing? Is that off the table because I don't know if I can agree to that."

  "No kissing," I say it seriously but crack a smile. "Okay, maybe the occasional kiss, but only in a public place. Otherwise, we risk something happening."

  "So you're saying I can see you? Like go out on actual dates?"

  "Not yet. For now, we stick with writing letters."

  "Speaking of letters," he says, "I got yours last night. It was kind of lame."

  "Lame?" I push him back but he keeps me held against him. "It wasn't lame."

  "It wasn't romantic. And isn't that the whole purpose of writing letters?"

  "It WAS romantic," I say, but he's right. It wasn't romantic.

  "It was like reading a resume, or a bio. It was just a listing of facts."

  "Fine." I roll my eyes. "I'll do better next time."

  "I expected more from you, especially since you call yourself a romantic." He smiles.

  "Yeah, got it." I smile back. "I'll be sure to be more romantic."

  "And maybe draw some hearts. Spray the paper with your perfume."

  I laugh. "Okay, now you're just making fun of me."

  "Hey, you need to go all out. No holding back. I sprayed mine with cologne."

  "You did?"

  "I'm obviously better at this than you."

  I huff. "I can't believe you just said that."

  "If you'd like me to stop talking, just kiss me. Works every time."

  "Yeah, you're funny." He really is. I'd forgotten how funny he is.

  "So no kiss?"

  "We're not in a public place."

  "We could go out in the hall."

  As much as I'd love to kiss him again, I know where it'll lead and I really do want to slow things down.

  "No kissing," I say.

  "Then I guess I'll keep talking. Since I didn't include any facts in my letter, I'll just tell you them. Like you, I'm also a marketing major, but I'm graduating in May. Not sure what I'm going to do for a job yet but I'd like to leave Chicago. I've been here my whole life and would like to try something different. You already know I'm in a band so I'll skip that part."

  "Wait. What about your song?"

  "What song?"

  "One Night."

  "That's our song, not mine. What about it?"

  Our song. My heart skipped a little when he said it. He already considers us a couple.

  "When did you write it?" I ask.

  "The day after you left. The lyrics just came to me and I had to write them down. I added the music later."

  "I love that song." I look down. "Even though it makes me sad."

  "It shouldn't make you sad. I got what I wanted. I found you."

  "But not until months later. I'm really sorry about that, Dylan. What I put you through. It was wrong of me."

  "Then why'd you do it?" His hand goes under my chin, lifting my face up. "Tell me why you did it."

  "You already know. I didn't want to risk ruining the memory of that night."

  "You sure it's not more than that?"

  His eyes are searching my face. He knows there's more to the story, but I'm not telling him what that is because I'm not even sure myself.

  "I just didn't want anything interfering with how I remembered that night," I say, going with my original story, which is still true. "And if we dated and broke up, I might not feel the same way about it."

  "But you changed your mind. Why?"

  I look in his eyes. "Because I missed you."

  "I missed you too," he says softly.

  As our eyes lock, I feel that connection again, that familiarity I don't understand but that's kept me thinking about Dylan all these months.

  "Let's go somewhere," he says. "Get coffee. Breakfast. Whatever you want."

  "We said no dating. Not yet."

  "It's not a date. It's an interview."

  "What?"

  "You said we don't know each other, which is true. But I refuse to write boring letters detailing all the facts about myself. Because I gotta tell you, I've read one of those letters and it about put me to sleep."

  I roll my eyes, smiling. "Yeah, got it."

  "So if you want to know about me, you need to go out with me, even if it's just for coffee."

  "Hmm. I guess you're right." I glance at my books spread out on the kitchen table. "But I really need to study. And I have to write a paper."

  "I have two papers due this week and a test on Monday, but I won't be able to think straight if I don't spend at least an hour with you today."

  I feel exactly the same way. Since the moment I dropped off that letter, I haven't been able to think about anything but him.

  "Then I guess we don't have a choice. Our grades depend on it."

  He smiles. "Whatever you need to tell yourself." He backs away and takes my hand. "Let's go."

  "I'm a mess. I have to go change."

  He looks me up and down. "You don't have to change. You look great."

  "I look like I just rolled out of bed. I at least need to put on a different shirt and fix my hair."

  "Then hurry up. I'll wait right here."

  Back in my room, I rip my shirt off and search for the right top and consider changing out of my yoga pants. This isn't a date but I still want to look decent. I'm being seen with Dylan, lead singer for one of the hottest bands in Chicago, who I'm sure gets a lot of attent
ion from other girls. I know he does because I've seen them pawing him at his concerts when I've watched them online. Girls are always putting their hands all over him, flashing their breasts at him. The same thing happens to Austin. Kira says it doesn't bother her but I know it does. I know she hates it. She's just learned to accept it, which I guess I'll have to do too if I want a relationship with Dylan.

  I never thought I'd date someone in a band. Just like I never thought I'd have a one-night stand. Or find someone who sends sparks flying whenever he kisses me. This is a year of firsts for me.

  "Amber?" Dylan knocks on my door.

  He startles me and I quickly cross my arms over myself, covering up my naked chest.

  "What are you doing?" I ask through the door.

  "Telling you to hurry up."

  "I AM hurrying."

  "You've been in there for almost ten minutes. What's taking so long?"

  "I'm trying to find a shirt."

  "Want me to help?"

  "No!" I yell. If he comes in my bedroom, we'll be having sex before we can stop ourselves. That kiss left me with an aching need for more, a longing to be with him me again like we were that night. "Don't come in!"

  "I will if you don't hurry up. You've got one minute."

  "One minute? That's not enough time." I frantically search through my clothes. Coffee on Sunday. What do you wear for coffee on Sunday? It should be casual but not too casual. Maybe I should go with jeans instead of yoga pants.

  "Thirty seconds," he says.

  Shit. I rip my yoga pants off and try to find the right pair of jeans. I want them tight, but not too tight. Something that makes my butt look good.

  "Time's up." He opens the door and sees me standing by my closet wearing only a pair of skimpy pink panties. "Shit," he mutters, his eyes drinking me in, his mouth slightly parted.

  I swallow, unable to move. If I even attempt to, I'll end up running into his arms, kissing those perfect lips, pressing myself into that perfect body of his.

  And so I stay where I'm at, the air heavy with heat, lust, desire.

  "You should leave," I say, somehow managing to speak.

  His neck moves as he swallows. "Yeah. I'll um...wait by the door."