Better If He Goes (Always You Book 1) Page 5

  "So you're going to med school in the fall?" I ask as we're driving.

  "That's the plan."

  "What kind of doctor do you want to be?"

  "I'm thinking general practitioner. Or I might specialize. Haven't decided yet."

  "Where are you going to school?" I ask as he stops at a red light.

  "Columbia. My dad went there for law school so I had an in. Otherwise, I'm not sure I would've been accepted. It's a top school. Not sure I belong there." His voice trails off as he says it and he glances down. It's the first time I've seen his confidence slip.

  "I'm sure you'll do great."

  "Yeah, I'll be fine," he says, his confidence suddenly back. "Why don't we stop talking so much about me and talk about you?"

  "There's not much to say."

  "I doubt that. I've got all night to find out."

  He says it in a flirty way and gives me a flirty smile. This is feeling more and more like a date, especially without Nate here. I kind of want it to be a date, but it can't be.

  Brad seems like a great guy and I'm really attracted to him, but he's off limits. I have to keep reminding myself of that.

  Chapter Five

  Riley

  "Would you like to see the dessert menu?" the waitress asks.

  Brad and I just finished dinner at the brewery. After an appetizer, a burger, a pile of fries, and three beers, I'm stuffed.

  "What do you think?" Brad asks.

  "Can't do it," I tell him, pushing my plate away.

  "We'll pass on dessert," he tells the waitress.

  "No problem." She gives him a smile. "I'll be back with your check."

  The waitress has been flirting with Brad since we sat down. I knew it would happen. A guy this hot gets a lot of attention. Even just walking in the bar, girls were staring at him. The white polo he's wearing fits tightly over his muscular chest, drawing attention to his body and making his tan look even more golden brown.

  "How about a game of darts?" Brad asks, pointing to the bar. I've been here many times and never even noticed the dart board.

  "I don't know how."

  "It's easy. I can show you." He gets out of the booth, dropping some money on the table for the check. "Ready?" He offers me his hand.

  As we walk to the dart board, Brad keeps hold of my hand. Most guys wouldn't hold on like that, especially since this isn't a date. They'd at least be nervous making such a bold move. But not Brad. He acts like it's completely normal, which makes me think his earlier flirting wasn't really flirting but just his personality.

  He goes up to the dartboard. "Red or blue?"

  "Blue," I say.

  He hands me the blue darts, then takes some steps back. "Over here," he says as he faces the dartboard.

  I come up beside him. "Is this where I stand?"

  "Move over a little." He puts his arm around me and moves me a few steps to the left. His arm is big and warm and feels good around my shoulders, which are cold from the frigid air conditioning. I should've brought a sweater to put over my tank top. It also would've made me feel more covered up. This tank really shows off my boobs, which is not what I intended to do tonight. Brad's eyes dropped to my cleavage a few times during dinner, which doesn't surprise me. He's a guy and I have bigger than normal boobs that are spilling out of this tank top. It's hard not to look.

  "Just aim and throw?" I ask, lifting my dart up.

  "Wait. Before you throw it, make sure your arm is straight." He comes up behind me and positions my arm, his warm hands on my cool skin causing me to shiver. "You, okay?" He releases my arm and stands beside me.

  "Yeah." I smile. "I'm just really cold and your hands are warm. It made me shiver."

  "Sorry. I'm always touching people like that and not even thinking about it. One of my professors said that'll be good for when I'm a doctor, with the whole bedside manner thing, but I always forget other people might not like it."

  "I didn't mind. It warmed me up a little. I've been freezing since we got here."

  "Why didn't you tell me that sooner? I'll go get my sweatshirt." He pulls his keys from his pocket. "Be right back."

  "Brad, no. You don't have to do that. I'll be fine."

  "You can't play darts when you're freezing. Your hand will shake. And I don't like you being cold."

  While he's gone, I get my phone out and call Nate.

  "Riley?" he answers, sounding tired.

  "Hey, how are you feeling?"

  "A little better, but still throwing up."

  "I'm sorry. Can I do anything?"

  "No. I just need to ride it out. I should be better by tomorrow."

  "You think you'll be able to go to orientation?"

  "Yeah, I'll be fine. So how's your night? Is Brad treating you okay?"

  "He's great. He just went out to the car to get me a sweatshirt. We're at the brewery and it's freezing."

  "You always freeze in there. I'm surprised you didn't bring a sweater, like you usually do."

  "I forgot it. And we didn't plan to eat here. We were just going to get a beer, then go eat somewhere else."

  "And you're still there? It's almost nine."

  Is it? I check my phone. Holy crap, it really is almost nine. How did it get to be so late? Brad and I talked all through dinner, and I didn't even notice the time.

  "We're playing darts," I say, trying to explain why we've been here for hours.

  "I didn't know you played darts."

  "I don't, but I'm learning how. Brad is teaching me."

  "Huh," Nate says, sounding suspicious. Does he think tonight has become more than a casual dinner with his cousin? I hope not, because that's all this night has been. Sure, Brad made some flirty comments and touched me a few times, but he just explained that he touches everyone. That's just how he is, and I think what I'm assuming are flirty comments are really just how he says things.

  "What?" I ask Nate, wondering what he's thinking.

  "Nothing. So how late do you think you guys will be out tonight?"

  "Not late. We'll probably go home after this. You want me to stop by your house before he takes me home?"

  "No. I'm really tired. I'll probably be asleep in a few minutes."

  "Okay, well, feel better."

  "I will. And hey, I'm happy you're having a good time. Just don't have too good a time." He laughs, but it's his uncomfortable laugh, which confirms he doesn't want tonight being anything more than his best friend hanging out with his cousin. "See ya, Riley." He ends the call.

  "This should help," Brad says, coming up behind me and placing his hoodie over my shoulders.

  "Thanks." I slide my arms in the sleeves. The soft fleece lining is warm from being in the car and makes me instantly feel better.

  "Good?" he asks.

  "Great! Thanks for letting me borrow it."

  He chuckles. "You're swimming in it."

  I look down and see that it hangs to my knees and my arms are lost in the sleeves.

  "Let me fix these." He takes my arm and rolls up the sleeve of the sweatshirt so my hand shows, then does the same to the other sleeve. "Oh, shit." He stands back. "I did it again."

  "Did what?"

  "Touched you. Sorry about that. It's a habit."

  "Brad, you misunderstood," I say with a laugh. "I wasn't mad when you did it. I only reacted that way because you're so warm. My freezing arms weren't prepared for that."

  "So you don't mind?"

  "No. I'm a touchy-feely person too, so I totally get it. Sometimes you can't help yourself."

  "And it seems to be even harder with you."

  Our eyes meet as he says it, electricity coursing through our gazes.

  I look away, focusing on the dart board. "Ready to play?"

  His gaze remains on me and it's making me blush. Why does he keep staring at me?

  "I'll try a practice one." I get in position and throw the dart. It hits outside the target and lands on the ground, making me laugh. "Okay, I'm really bad."

 
; "You just need to lift your elbow more." He stands behind me. "Okay if I show you?"

  "Go ahead," I say, my heart picking up speed as he steps closer, so close I can feel the heat of his body.

  He takes my arm and slowly lifts it up, then moves his hand over mine so that we're both holding the dart. "See how your arm is positioned?"

  "Yeah," I say, although I'm not focused on my arm. I'm focused on the feel of his very large, very warm hand wrapped around mine, and the fact that his hard muscular chest is nearly pressed against my back as he extends my arm to show me how to throw the dart.

  "You feel that?" he asks, and my mind goes straight to something else I'm feeling. Or maybe it's just his belt.

  "Riley?" He moves back, enough that I no longer feel his body touching mine.

  "Yeah." I take a breath to get myself together. I zoned out for a moment in a fantasy I should not have been having. "I think I got it."

  "Go ahead and try one." Brad steps aside.

  I focus on the bullseye and throw the dart, hitting the outermost ring on the board.

  "That's good," he says. "Try another one."

  I do, and it lands right next to the first one. "I'm looking at the center ring, but it's not going there."

  "Here." He comes up behind me again and puts his hands on my waist, moving me over a couple inches. The feel of his hands gripping my waist causes a tingle to scatter through me, specifically the parts of me that shouldn't be tingling while out with Nate's cousin.

  I feel Brad's warm breath by my ear. "Now just focus on the tip hitting the target."

  Why does that sound dirty? We're talking darts. That's it. What is wrong with me?

  I glance over and see Brad's face next to mine as he looks at the board, which is what I should be doing instead of focusing on how his lips are just inches from my mine.

  "Go ahead," he says, slowly moving back.

  Trying to regain my focus, I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them and toss the dart. It hits just outside the bullseye.

  "Riley, that's awesome!" Brad smiles and pulls me into a hug. It seems totally natural, like he does this to everyone. Some people are huggers, some aren't. I'm sure Brad's a hugger and that's why he hugged me, but having his body pressed against mine is heating me up even more.

  "Your turn," I say as he lets me go.

  He gets in position and I watch his arm flex as he throws the dart. It lands right in the center.

  "You got it!" I say, feeling the need to hug him like he hugged me. But instead, I wait as he throws another dart. It lands just outside the bullseye.

  "Damn," he mutters. He squints his eyes and holds the third dart up, pausing a moment before throwing it. It lands right in the center of the bullseye.

  "Brad, that's amazing!" I hug him before I even realize what I'm doing. I'm about to pull away, but then his big strong arms go around me, hugging me back.

  "Thanks, but it's not that impressive," he says with a laugh. "I played darts all through college."

  He lets me go, but I wanted to keep hugging him. Friends can hug, right? And I really like his hugs. The feel of his hard, warm body pressed against mine. His big, strong arms wrapped around me.

  "Your turn." He hands me my darts.

  "I'm kind of intimidated now that I know I'm playing with a pro."

  "Not a pro, just a college kid with too much time on his hands."

  "You couldn't have had too much time being pre-med. Didn't you have to study a lot?"

  He shrugs. "Not really. I mean, I did, but I still made time for other stuff. I'm someone who needs time to relax."

  "So you played darts."

  "Not all the time. Just now and then."

  Too hot to wear the sweatshirt, I take it off and set it on the chair next to me.

  Brad is watching me and says, "You don't want it?"

  "I was getting warm. Between the dart throwing and fierce competition, I'm really heating up."

  "Forget the competition. We're just playing for fun." He points to the bar. "Want another drink?"

  "I'm good for now." I should throw a dart, but instead I stay where I'm at, my eyes drinking him in. That body. That smile. If he wasn't Nate's cousin, I'd definitely be making a move on him right now, or at least flirting. "What else did you do for fun? Besides darts?"

  "Went out with friends. Played sports. Hung out with my girlfriend."

  "You had a girlfriend?" I ask, trying not to sound overly interested.

  "Several." He pauses. "That sounds bad. What I meant is several over the course of four years."

  "Any of them serious?"

  "No. Well, some of them assumed it was serious even though I told them upfront that's not what I wanted."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm not ready for that. I still have med school to get through and a residency. That's at least seven years that I'll be studying and working nonstop. It wouldn't be fair to get involved with someone and have that be their life for the next seven years. I wouldn't be able to give the girl or the relationship the time it deserves. Eventually, that would lead to us breaking up, so I didn't even want to go down that road."

  "But you want to get married someday, right?"

  Why did I ask that? It's way too personal, and too serious a topic to discuss when we're supposed to be having fun playing darts.

  "If I find the right girl, then yeah, but not until I'm done with school, and preferably when I'm done with my residency."

  "But you'll still date? Even though you know it won't go anywhere?"

  "Yeah, definitely, but I always tell the girl before we even go out so she doesn't get her hopes up that it'll turn into something more."

  "And girls are okay with that?"

  "Not all of them, but some are. There are plenty of girls out there that want to spend their twenties focused on their career. That doesn't mean they don't date."

  "But what if you find the right girl in your twenties? Would you still break up with her?"

  "I'm not sure. Guess I'd have to figure that out if it happened. But I doubt it would. I tend to date women who are career driven and focused more on their future success than a relationship. Makes it hard to ever get too close to them, you know?"

  "Um, no, not really," I say with a laugh. "I don't really hang around those types of women. My friends all see work as just a paycheck, a way to pay for the fun we have on the weekends, not some dream we need to fulfill." I see the serious look on his face and rush to say, "Not that there's anything wrong with that! I totally admire you for becoming a doctor. It's just not for me. I'd rather have fun."

  He gives me a strange look and I realize I just implied he's not fun.

  "That's not what I meant," I say, shaking my head. "You're totally fun. And I'm sure being a doctor will be fun. You'll get to bandage people up and—"

  He cracks up laughing.

  "What? What's so funny?"

  "You. Trying to shovel your way out of this and only making it worse. I wanted to let you keep going to see how many examples you could find of fun things doctors do, but it was too tragic. I had to cut you off." He laughs. "Just so you know, bandaging people up is not fun, especially when they're bleeding all over you or get sick from seeing the blood and puke on you. That's the worst."

  "You've already bandaged people up? You're not even a doctor yet."

  "I was a first aid worker at a summer camp. It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year. I usually lifeguarded during the summers, but I wanted to mix it up and try something new."

  "Did you like it?"

  "The kids were fun, but I missed being at the pool."

  "How'd you get into lifeguarding?"

  "I was on the swim team in high school and my coach recommended me for the job. This will be my last summer being a lifeguard. I'm going to miss it."

  "It'll probably be my last summer doing it too."

  His brows rise. "You're a lifeguard?"

  "Yeah. With Nate. We work at the same pool. We've
been working there for years."

  "I knew Nate did, but I didn't know you worked there too. Don't you work at the salon?"

  "Yeah, but in the summer they let me cut my hours so I can work at the pool."

  He slowly smiles. "So we'll be working together."

  "Yep." I smile back, then look away. "Should we get back to the darts?"

  "Sure. Go ahead."

  I step up to the imaginary line he told me to throw from. My heart's going fast knowing he's watching me. I'm trying to use the correct form he showed me, but doing that makes my chest stick out and my tiny tank top ride up, exposing my stomach. Why didn't I wear more clothes? It's hot outside, but I knew it'd be cold in here.

  The dart hits the wall, bouncing off it and landing on the floor.

  "I'll get it," Brad says, going to pick it up.

  As he does, I get a look at him from behind. It's just as good as the view from the front. I glance away, wishing I could stop thinking of him that way.

  If this keeps up, it's going to be a very long, very hot summer.

  Chapter Six

  Nate

  "Hey, man, how are you feeling?" Brad asks as he comes in the kitchen. I'm sitting at the counter eating crackers and a banana, my go-to foods after a night of puking.

  "Better." I rip open another sleeve of crackers. "Haven't thrown up since five this morning."

  "You're probably done. I'm guessing by now it's out of your system." He walks to the fridge and opens it. "You'll have to give me the name of that place so I make sure I never go there."

  "It's strange because that's the first time that's happened. Riley and I go to that restaurant all the time and I've never had a problem. But I've also never had their sushi until yesterday."

  "No eggs?" Brad asks, searching the fridge.

  "No, we're out. Add them to list. My mom's going to the store today." I slide the list across the counter to him and toss him a pen.

  "I'll get them myself. I don't want your mom buying me stuff. Letting me stay here is already too much."

  "Are you kidding? She loves having you here. You were always her favorite nephew. But don't tell your brother that."

  He chuckles. "Paul wouldn't care. He didn't see your mom much growing up. Remember how he used to hide when people came over?"