“Can’t. I gotta work tomorrow.”
“Me too,” she admitted with a soft sigh.
He opened the car door and ran around to the passenger side as she was getting out. He had such good manners. Although car-door opening was not something she required in a date, it was pretty nice.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
“No need,” she said, sweeping aside her hurt feelings that he wasn’t coming up.
“When would you like to get together again?” he asked as they went up the sidewalk.
“Get together again?” She blinked. “Oh, you mean for my anti-doormat lessons?”
Tom laughed until he couldn’t catch his breath. After he’d finally composed himself, he said, “Dang it, Jude, you have a terrific sense of humor. I admire the hell out of you.”
She admired his admiration and that felt weird so she stared down at the cracks in the concrete. “How does Saturday night sound?”
“Good. Great. Perfect.” He gave her a thumbs-up.
“Where should we go?” she asked. “What should we do?”
“We’ll do whatever you want to do.”
“I don’t care—”
“Uh-uh.” Tom raised a finger and waggled it at her. “No, no. From now on, whenever you have an opinion, want, wish, or desire, speak your mind.”
“I can try.”
“Just answer this question. What would you like to do?”
“Umm.” She crinkled her nose. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” he said. “Think about it because that’s what we’re doing.”
“Listen.” She hauled in a breath. “You do not have to walk up three flights of stairs. We can say goodbye right here in the parking lot.”
“It’s almost ten.”
“I’ll be fine. I go in and out of my apartment at night all the time. This is a quiet neighborhood. I feel completely safe.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“Okay, then.” His eyes met hers, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Well, I guess this is good night.” Jude gulped and stood there, waiting and hoping and wishing he’d give her a goodnight kiss.
Tom jammed his hands in his coat pockets, and she saw him clench them underneath the material. Was he cold? Or was something else going on? The night was a little chilly, but fairly mild in the grand scheme of impending winter.
Certainly not too cold for a goodnight kiss. She leaned forward, puckered her lips, lowered her eyelids, and waited.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.
He did not.
Slowly, she opened her eyes, unpuckered her lips, and felt disappointment roll through her in one long wave, starting at her feet and sweeping up to her heart, gathering heat as it went until it lodged in her head as a hot, throbbing frustration.
“See you on Saturday,” he mumbled and with a quick, but really weird salute, he dashed back to his car.
Leaving Jude perplexed and wanting more. So very much more.
Why didn’t you tell him that?
Why? Because she was afraid that he’d tell her she was “too nice” to be his girlfriend. Although, she did have a counter for that argument. She wasn’t asking to be his girlfriend. All she wanted was a temporary bed partner.
But saying that required bravery and boldness.
If you want to be bold, the only way to get there is to act boldly.
Next time, if Tom didn’t make a move, she was kissing him, and this time, it would darn well be on the lips.
The week was busy, and by Thursday, Jude was aching for a fun-filled Saturday night, but for the life of her, she couldn’t cook up an adequate adventure for her date with Tom.
It’s not a date, she reminded herself. He was merely giving her some pointers on navigating the dating world. They were just friends. She’d come to this conclusion after he’d taken off without even trying to kiss her the other evening.
She hadn’t heard from him all week. Not that she expected to. C’mon, she wasn’t that needy, but she had thought maybe he’d at least drop her a text.
Nope. Nothing.
And she was cool with that. Totally.
The last school bell had rang and she was tidying up the library when she felt someone stroll up behind her. Thinking it was one of the students returning for a lost cell phone or book bag, she didn’t even look up from what she was doing.
Until a masculine voice cut through her distractions. “Hey, Jude.”
A sweet shiver went up her spine as she turned to see Tom standing there with an inviting lopsided grin, humming the iconic Beatles song for which she’d been named.
“How did you get in here?” she asked. “Our school has tight security.”
“I’m on the list.”
“What list?” she asked, confused.
“My nephew goes here. He’s a freshman and he doesn’t drive yet, so my sister put me on the pickup list just in case.”
“Tara has a son old enough to be in high school?”
“No, not Tara, my half sister, Mica.”
“I didn’t know you had a half sister.”
“She’s ten years older and a result of my father’s misspent youth before he met my mom. I didn’t even know about Mica until fifteen years ago. She came looking for us after she found out who her father was through a DNA test. She’s a single mom and needs all the help she can get, so I do what I can. Plus, I enjoy hanging out with my nephew. He’s a good kid.”
Aww, that was sweet of Tom to help out a half sister he hadn’t known for a big chunk of his life.
“Oh, wow. Who’s your nephew?”
“Joe Brown.”
Jude crinkled her nose and tried to place the student, but it was a common name and twelve hundred students went to the high school. Tom’s nephew must have been in the library at some point, but she didn’t know him.
“So since you can get into the building, you thought you’d just pop on over to the library to see what I was up to?” With a book in her hand, she folded her arms over her chest. It was chilly at this end of the building, and well, her bra was thin.
“Something like that.” An amused smile overtook his face. “Joe had a dental appointment this morning and Mica had to be at work, and since I’m my own boss, I came over. I brought Joe back from his appointment in time to catch the last class of the day and…”
“And?” She arched an eyebrow.
“I stuck around until school was out so I could talk to you.”
“You’ve been hanging around for an hour?”
“The day was pretty well shot for getting anything done, so I listened to an audiobook in the car.”
“What book?” she asked, feeling certain he was going to name the latest New York Times bestseller, but he surprised her.
“East of Eden.”
“Really?” That reply tickled her no end. “Steinbeck?”
“You say that as if I’m some knuckle-dragging caveman who’s lucky to read my car repair manual.”
“No, no.” She shook her head and waved a hand. “Not at all. I just didn’t picture you reading…Steinbeck.”