“Yeah.” She crouches to give Walter a quick pat on the head, then stands, sliding on a pair of shades from her bag and strutting toward the door. Damn. She could be one of the actors on set, she’s that beautiful. Though, part of me is thankful she’s not. There are people who handle that kind of fame really well, but for most . . . well, it goes to their head. Makes them feel above others. Elitist. Rachel isn’t at all like that. She may work on the top movie set with the most famed actors, but at the end of the day she can still walk down Hollywood Boulevard without getting mobbed.
Or at least I hope.
Maybe she’ll allow me to take her out to dinner tonight. To test my theory.
I swipe my keys and grab my coffee off the counter. A chuckle leaves my lips. Walter usually waits for me to pocket my keys before skittering to the door, but today, he’s raced ahead. Following Rachel. “You have a shadow.”
Rachel glances down, her lips pulling with a grin.
Walter whines, his big eyes glued to the door, but he doesn’t move from her side.
“He’s okay here by himself?”
“He’ll live.”
“He’s the sweetest.” She smiles and rocks from side to side, her skirt swishing around her legs. “You’re gonna miss me, aren’t you?”
Hell, yes. I almost respond before I realize she’s talking to the dog. Fuck, he really is winning more points than I am. “Stay.” I point at Walter.
“You know, you really don’t need to drive me.”
“No. I do.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll catch an Uber after work.”
“You better not.” I open the door for her.
She doesn’t move. “But that really puts you out. Honestly, Jude. I don’t mind.”
“I like driving you.” The moment the words fly from my lips I realize it’s the truth. I enjoy spending time with her, so much that I’m hungry for any opportunity. Can’t get enough. Don’t want to waste a precious minute. Which is insane. Crazy. So unexpected, I can hardly accept these feelings. Especially considering we haven’t so much as kissed. I’d kiss her right now, but I enjoy her friendship. Value it. I don’t want to ruin what we have, and that only makes me want her more. God, what is wrong with me? Is this how it happens? Why my friend Chance is so devoted to Aubrey? Is Rachel my Aubrey? Am I ready for that? A wave of nerves crash over me with the force of the entire fucking ocean. Fuck, I feel like I’m gonna pass out. Or puke. Good God, man. Get a grip.
Walter whines at the open door, the fact neither of us have moved through it making him more anxious.
“Jude?” Rachel says, her tone laced with concern.
“Bring him with,” I manage to grunt out, needing to divert her attention from the loss of blood flow to my brain. I grab the leash and drag in a breath, steeling my rattled senses.
Walter goes berserk at the sight of the leash, dancing in circles and hopping on his hind legs with appreciative yips. The distraction works.
Rachel laughs, I hook the leash to his collar, and the three of us retreat into the elevator with her focus on my dog.
We exit and pass my fleet of custom cars to get to the SUV. I don’t mention they’re mine. Pointing them out seems pretentious, and she won’t be impressed. Besides, I have to take the Escalade. I need to drop off the spanking bench to my storage unit before swinging by Pierce’s place later to check on the basement remodel.
Rachel climbs in as soon as I unlock the doors. I don’t hold her door, and in the back of my head I hear my mom’s disappointed voice. I raised you better. Shaking it off, I open my door. Walter hops in, finding a place on Rachel’s lap. I’d move him to the back seat, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and I still lack the capacity to form a normal sentence. Flipping on the radio, I focus on getting her to work without causing a fender bender.
Is Rachel my Aubrey? The question repeats in my mind like a bad pop song. Obviously, I’m attracted to Rachel. I’m attracted to a lot of women. Only, you couldn’t get it up for Jenese the other night. Fuck. I blow out another frustrated breath. I don’t want to think about this now. Not when Rachel’s perfume fills the cab of my SUV. So damn enticing. Or when her hot-as-fuck lipstick begs to steal my attention from the road. That color should be illegal. And especially not when I’m just discovering how kickass she is. Each day she opens up a little more, and I feel as though there’s still so much to learn about her and her life. Hell. How can I possibly have genuine feelings? This must be infatuation. That’s got to be it. Or maybe Mercury is in retrograde again.
So I like her. That doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to flip my world on its axis. I have no room in my life for that, and I won’t be played a fool. Not even for love.
The music is interrupted with an incoming call. Mark’s name flashes across my SUV’s digital dashboard. Mark, my mechanic. I send him to voicemail with the flick of a button and avoid Rachel’s stare. Not that she’s remotely paying attention, what with Walter on her lap. Lucky bastard. He’s getting more action than I am these days.
Thankfully, Americana isn’t far from my condo. The ride goes quickly and the further we drive, the more settled I become. I’m going to take this next week to get to know Rachel. There’s no harm in that. At the end of the week I’ll have worked through this fascination. If I play my cards right, she’ll invite me to join her in my bed. Once we fuck, I won’t be so conflicted.
