Lost to You Page 2

  “How about you go out to dinner with me instead?” I asked her anyway. I smiled that smile again.

  “That’s not going to happen.” Red colored her cheeks, but she seemed to be fighting a smile. She gathered a few loose papers and tapped the bottom edge of the pile on the table to straighten them.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.”

  “And how do you know what kind of girl I’m looking for?”

  She sat back in her chair, leveling her gaze on me. I fidgeted under it. All traces of that shyness were gone, set in its place a steely determination as she lifted her chin high. “Okay then, Christian, answer me something.”

  I tilted my head, figuring I was going to regret agreeing to this. “All right.”

  A smile danced in her brown eyes. “How long have you been in New York?”

  I let out the breath I was holding. Okay, that was easy. Relieved, I inched a little closer. “My parents had me moved up here at the beginning of the summer. They said they wanted me to have a chance to get used to my surroundings. I figure they just wanted me out of their hair.”

  She nodded subtly, her brow cinched together as if she’d been struck with some unknown suspicion. “Are you happy here?” whispered from her mouth as if it were my darkest secret.

  I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of her voice, and answered honestly because I found I didn’t know how to lie to the girl sitting across from me. “Anywhere is better than spending another minute in my parents’ house.”

  For a second, her expression softened, and she just nodded as she held my gaze. I was pretty sure I’d never felt more exposed than I did in that single moment.

  She cleared her throat and looked away, breaking the connection. When she looked back up, everything had shifted, the same challenge glinting in her eyes. “And how many girls have you slept with since you got here?”

  Oh shit. Of course she had to ask the one question I didn’t want to answer, voicing the judgment she’d already cast.

  “Uh...um...” I stumbled, then bit down on my bottom lip, shaking my head as I released a self-conscious laugh.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, the smile at the edge of her mouth lifting. “What? You can’t count that high, or you don’t want to tell me?”

  Her tone was light, an easy mirth at my expense. But I could see it, set there in the perfect lines of her face that I wanted nothing more than to trace with the tips of my fingers. She really cared about my answer. She’d baited me, strung me up, left me with nowhere to hide.

  Red-faced, I scratched the back of my neck, knowing no matter what answer I gave, it’d be the wrong one. If I lied, she’d know, and I knew there was no way she’d be okay with the truth.

  “Come on, Elizabeth...I just asked if you wanted to go to dinner with me.”

  “So, you’re saying you don’t want to sleep with me?”

  Frustration tumbled from my mouth in a strained groan. Still, I couldn’t lie to her. Like it wasn’t obvious how badly I wanted to take her back to my place and coax that blush from every inch of her body. “That’s not what I said.”

  She leaned down to her backpack that was sitting on the floor and slid her things into it, her face lifted to look up at me as she did. “Well, then, Christian, I think it’s safe to say I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.”

  The sharp peal of her zipper announced her departure.

  I really couldn’t remember ever being turned down before. I’m sure I had, but it’d made little impact on me, something forgotten as I’d immediately moved on to the next and better thing. This slammed me. I could do nothing but stare at Elizabeth as she stood and slung her backpack over her shoulders. It wasn’t a sensation I was familiar with, the bite of rejection, but now it had me pinned to my chair.

  Why the hell did this bother me so much?

  She reached up and pulled out her hair trapped by her backpack, gripping the bulk of it in a fist that she ran down the length. It spread out in a soft wave over one shoulder as she released it.

  I swallowed. God, looking at this girl and not being able to touch her was complete torture.

  “I’ll see you around,” she said, taking a step toward the door. She twisted to look at me, walking backward as she spoke. “If you don’t find anything better to do Friday, I’ll be studying. You have my number.”

  She grinned, and all I could do was laugh. I was definitely not expecting that.

  She spun back around, and for the first time, I was able to appreciate her perfect ass in those tight jeans.

  No, I definitely didn’t have anything better to do on Friday night.

  Shit. I was in so much trouble.

  “It’s a date,” I hurried to call after her.

  She swung the door open, shaking her head with a small laugh. “No, Christian, it’s not.”

  Chapter Two

  Elizabeth

  Oh, he was so off limits. So unbelievably off limits.

  The door to the café shut behind me, an echo of his throaty laughter tickling my ears. I hit the sidewalk, hurrying to put some space between us. I had five more minutes I could have stayed before I needed to leave for my next class, but I was getting out of there before he talked me into something I would definitely regret.

  People swarmed around me as I cut a path against the flow of the approaching crowd. I muttered unheard apologies toward my feet, edging off to the right and blending in with the bodies heading back toward campus.

  I hiked my backpack higher and tried to rid my mind of him.

  There was no way I could allow myself to get lost in this guy, and by the thoughts that smile had left swirling through my head—that stomach-flipping, heart-lurching, earth-shattering smile—I knew just how easily I could.

  Oh God.

  Christian Davison had to be the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen.

  The second I noticed him walking through the door, I’d been caught in the darkness concealing his face, the halo of light streaming in behind him partially casting his face in shadows. It was as if my body knew what hid behind them was worth waiting to discover.

  And damn, if it wasn’t right.

  The door had slipped shut when he inched forward, swallowing the shadows and revealing an unruly shock of the blackest hair I’d ever seen. Pair that with those blue eyes and I was lost. They were so intense...so unsettling. His jaw was all sharp angles and hopelessly losing the battle with a coat of coarse stubble that was just as dark as the hair on his head.

  But his mouth was flirty and soft—full—something to smooth out the severity of everything else.

  It was the first time in my life I’d had the urge to reach out and touch a complete stranger, to run my fingertips over his jaw, maybe across his lips, wondering how his skin would feel under mine—wondering how I would feel doing it.

  For a moment, he’d searched the room, before recognition had dawned on his face when his eyes landed on me, his stride purposed as he walked my direction. Each step he took radiated confidence, and his lips curved with a cocky arrogance as he approached.

  It only took a couple of seconds for me to understand why his presence had seemed to fill up the entire room, why he seemed to stop time when he walked through the door.

  The guy was completely full of himself.

  It’s not like I was all that experienced, but I wasn’t stupid, either. I knew exactly what Christian wanted. It had gleamed in his eyes and rippled through his muscles. I wasn’t opposed to guys—to having a boyfriend or someone who cared about me.

  What I was opposed to was giving myself to someone like him.

  The man would own me with one passing touch, and I was certain that’s exactly what it would be.

  Passing.

  The last thing I needed my first year in college was to get my heart broken by a boy who was undoubtedly after one thing. I didn’t work this hard to get here to get my heart trampled.

/>   All the sacrifices I had made, giving up on most activities my friends had reveled in—the parties, the shopping, the fun—in favor of studying and striving to win every scholarship I could earn, the extra hours my mother had worked to scrape together a few extra dollars, every grant I’d applied for and every student loan I had to one day pay back—I wasn’t about to waste my time here.

  No, complications like Christian Davison I did not need.

  But man, was he pretty.

  The really irresponsible side of me thought it’d be worth the risk, something reckless and completely unlike me to add to the list of cherished college memories, a fling with a boy who would so obviously make me forget myself. One glimpse of his sure hands and strong body left no question that he would make me experience things I’d never experienced before.

  A shiver traveled down my spine and pooled somewhere in my stomach.

  Shaking myself out of it, I forced that dangerous train of thought aside.

  I knew myself better than that. It wouldn’t be a cherished memory, but something that would eat at me for years.

  I didn’t do flings. I fell in love, and falling in love with someone like Christian was a mistake I couldn’t afford.

  But if I could somehow put the unknown longing he created in me aside, I realized I liked him. I liked the way he seemed to get lost in thought, disappearing somewhere deeper beneath the façade I doubted few people ever penetrated. I could almost feel it, an undercurrent of vulnerability there beneath his perfect exterior.

  Maybe that’s what he needed, someone to look past that gorgeous face and his arrogant smile. Maybe he needed a friend in this city as much as I did.

  We’d see.

  ~

  The rest of the week passed in a blur. Every time I stepped out my apartment door, I still found myself in awe, amazed by this city. As much time as I’d spent hoping for it—working for it—there was a part of me that never believed I’d make it.

  Even though living here was a lifelong dream, it had taken some getting used to, the mass of people at every turn, the buildings that towered on every side. There were times when I felt closed in, like the sky could crash down on me and I’d have nowhere to run. But for the most part, I loved it and reveled in this city that I had only known in pictures and movies.

  When my last class of the week let out on Friday, I wound my way through the crowds toward my apartment. I’m sure I appeared a tourist, my head raised as I soaked up the details of every building and landmark.

  My building was a drab block of gray brick, glued between two taller buildings on each side. I jogged up the stairs to the second floor. Turning the key in the lock, the door opened to my small studio apartment.

  Well, small didn’t really describe it. A twin bed was pushed lengthwise up against the far wall to the right, and a miniature kitchen lined the opposite wall to my left. Straight back was the only separate room—a bathroom so small I could fit it in my back pocket.

  But I loved it. It was mine, my own space, a reward for what I’d worked so hard to achieve.

  Crossing the five steps to the other end of the room, I sighed in satisfaction and dropped my backpack to the bed, shrugged out of my jeans, and pulled on some black yoga pants.

  If I had to spend my Friday night studying, I wanted to be comfortable.

  Flopping onto my unmade bed, I dug out the books I needed from my bag.

  Afternoon light filtered in through the window, wrapping the room in a cozy glow. I snuggled up and hunkered down. In order to stay in New York, I had to keep all my scholarships, so I couldn’t risk letting any of my grades slip.

  I dove into my first class, reading through the materials that were due the next class period. Late afternoon bled into evening, time passing quickly. The room had begun to darken, and I reached over to twist the switch to the small lamp that rested on the floor next to the bed. The light bulb flickered on. A dim light seeped up the back wall and illuminated my book. I figured I couldn’t put it off any longer, so I changed to my most dreaded subject—math. If there was one subject that would ruin me, math was it. I flipped to the correct chapter. My mouth moved slowly as I struggled to absorb the instructions and somehow make sense of the numbers.

  I looked to the ceiling and groaned.

  Completely hopeless.

  My phone rang from the front pocket of my backpack. It was a welcomed distraction. Mom called me almost every evening, and I was anxious to hear her voice, for her to tell me she missed me as much as I missed her. Unzipping the pocket, I rummaged around to pull the phone free and glanced at the screen.

  But no, it wasn’t her.

  I frowned as I stared at the number lit up on the screen. It was a number I really hadn’t anticipated seeing tonight. Actually, I was kind of shocked. It didn’t mean his face hadn’t fluttered in and out of my consciousness over the past week or that I had forgotten that smile. It just meant when I made the offer, I never really believed he’d take me up on it.

  A flicker of excitement sparked in my stomach. I chalked it up to being lonely.

  Accepting the call, I placed it against my ear. “Hello?” I realized I was smiling, figured he could blatantly hear it coloring my voice.

  Ridiculous.

  “Hey, Elizabeth, it’s Christian.” His voice was easy, filled with the same confidence he’d approached me with at the beginning of the week. This time it didn’t throw me. I expected it. Welcomed it, even.

  “Hi, Christian. What are you up to?”

  “I just got out of my last class for the day. Wanted to find out where you’re studying.”

  “Um...” I glanced around my tiny apartment that I could only imagine was smaller than Christian’s closet and tried to picture him here. “I’m actually studying at my place.” I bit at my lip, couldn’t help but tease, “What, no hot date for the evening?”

  His voice dropped low, hinting at humor and something else I didn’t want to recognize. “What, you didn’t believe me when I said I was going to spend the evening studying with you? You’re going to learn to trust me, you know.”

  I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, that’s so.” A current of suggestion slipped through his voice. This guy had to be the most dangerous predator walking the streets of New York City.

  So why did I seem to like him so much?

  “All right then. I’ll be waiting.”

  I gave him my address, ended the call, and decided I’d at least pick up the dirty clothes I’d left in random piles around the room. It wasn’t like the studio was dirty—it was just cluttered.

  My arms were full of clothes when there was a tap at my door.

  I tossed them into the hamper next to my bed before rushing over to unlatch it.

  And just like he promised to be, Christian, in all his perfect glory, stood at my door.

  Oh God. Men should not be that pretty.

  And of course, he had to unleash that smile on me. “Hey, Elizabeth.”

  Again with the stomach flip.

  He shouldered his way into my apartment before I had time to step out of his way. He huffed out a weighted breath as he turned a slow circle to take in my apartment, a casual smile on his face when he turned back to me. “You don’t know how happy I am it’s Friday. How about you?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’m ready for a little down time,” I admitted, closing the door behind us, stopping to admire him standing in the middle of my room. He didn’t look so out of place, after all. “I think I’m finally getting a handle on my schedule and routine.” I sidestepped around him and crossed the room, moved some papers around to make a place for him to sit down on my bed/couch. “I was pretty overwhelmed last week, but I’m getting used to it. Finding my way around the city isn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” I grinned and gestured to the spot I’d cleared. “Make yourself at home. I don’t exactly have a lot of space.”

  He looked around again. “Yeah...I kind of noticed that.” Withou
t any hesitation, Christian plopped down on my bed like he belonged there. Shrugging his backpack from his shoulders, he scooted back to rest against the wall, his long body sprawled across the width of the bed with his feet hanging over the edge.

  Dull light glinted off the playful blue eyes looking back at me after they made a pass over my bed. “But I think we could make it work.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you wish.”

  Christian just laughed.

  “And, don’t go knocking my apartment,” I said as I curled back into my spot on the bed, grabbing my textbook and pulling it onto my lap. “This place is perfect for me, don’t you think?”

  He shook his head as if he didn’t understand me at all. A mild chuckle rumbled in his chest.

  We both knew there was no denying my place was kind of a dump.

  He sobered, his words not quite matching the confused expression on his face. “You really like it here?” It wasn’t mocking, just an honest question as he searched my face for the truth.

  “You don’t work so hard for something and not appreciate it, even if it isn’t the nicest place in the world.”

  His smile was soft. “Well, I guess it’s perfect, then, Elizabeth.”

  His expression shifted into something I couldn’t quite grasp, something that worked to unravel all the reservations I held twisted inside of me. The smile slipped from his mouth, his head angled as his gaze seemed to swallow me whole. I could almost taste him, the heavy breaths he panted filling the air, diminishing the space between us. He was a walking contradiction, flipping from this joking, easygoing guy who seemed to understand this was a study session, to this extreme intensity that threatened to set my skin on fire. I wondered if anyone else noticed it, if they could see what simmered and churned in the blue of his eyes, something real and genuine and consuming, something that left me more unnerved than I’d ever been in my life.

  I struggled to curb my reaction to him, fought the part of me that liked it...craved it. The part of me that wished he’d give in and succumb to what I saw so vividly playing out in his eyes.