The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants Read online

  "Just being honest," he said as he rearranged the contents of the fridge to accommodate the turkey they'd bought.

  "Are you going to take the pie making stuff home with you?" she asked.

  "No." He put his hands on his hips, and stared at her. "You've seen my apartment. The kitchen isn't exactly Paula Deen approved for making much of anything. You'll just have to share this kitchen with me Thanksgiving morning.

  Star found a piece of paper and a pen and sat down at the table to make her list of twenty-one questions to ask him.

  She felt his presence behind her. It was uncanny the way the room's energy literally became electrified whenever he entered. She quickly slid her hand over what she'd been writing. "No fair! No peeking!" she chastised.

  "How'd you know I was looking?" he complained.

  "I'm psychic."

  "Right." He chuckled and took a seat across from her. He asked her for an extra sheet of paper and started his own list. She wasn't sure how he was able to get anything written down with as much gawking at her as he was doing. Not that she was complaining.

  They sat in silence, madly scribbling questions on their scraps of paper. "I've got fifteen so far." She tapped the pen against her lips. "How many do you have?"

  He held up his left hand and continued to finish writing his thought on the page. "Twenty-one!" he shouted and slammed the pen down on the table.

  A bubble of laughter escaped her. She couldn't help it. He had that effect on her. He made her feel like a teenager again. "I didn't realize it was a competition. If I had, I would have so beaten you."

  He quirked an eyebrow at her and the corner of his mouth tipped into a wicked smirk. "Beaten me? Really? Blue, have you been holding out on me? You're kinky? I like that in a woman."

  Her jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered her composure and drew a line through one of the questions. "That answers that one," she told him mischievously.

  He burst into laughter over her quick wit. "You're amazing, you know that?"

  "You're not so bad yourself," she admitted shyly. She pointed to his paper. "You first."

  "What did you dream about becoming when you grew up?" he asked, studying her face intently. "You know, like a ballerina, or nurse, or something?"

  Without hesitation, she replied, "A rock star."

  "You're a good singer?"

  She snorted, "Oh, God no. I can't carry a tune...which is probably why I never became famous. What about you, what did you want to be?" she asked. Besides hot.

  All traces of happy drained from his face, and he sighed. "A rocket scientist." Star's eyes widened at his flippant response. It wasn't a joke -- his face was void of humor. "Actually, I was supposed to go to college to study astronomy."

  "What happened? Why didn't you go?" she asked.

  "Skip. Besides, it's my turn. You aren't allowed to ask two in a row."

  She picked up her pen and added that question to the bottom of the list. "Okay, next," she told him.

  "How many tattoos do you have?" he asked.

  "Two," she said. She pushed up her shirt sleeve and pointed to the blue planet on the back of her hand. "You've seen Neptune."

  "Okay, look, this doesn't count as one of my questions. But I'm dying here. What's the other tattoo, and where is it?" he asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table.

  "It's over my heart, and it's just a saying," she said, patting her chest with her right hand.

  "What saying?"

  She bit her lip and replied, "The heart knows what the heart wants."

  "Beautiful." He spoke the word so softly, she wasn't sure he'd said it at all. He pushed back his chair and stood. His eyes held hers for a few seconds longer. She fascinated him, and he couldn't get enough of her. "I've got to go home and clean my apartment. I've got company coming over later, and I don't want her to think I'm a complete slob."

  Star felt as though she'd swallowed a bowling ball. He has a date? "Oh. Well yeah. You wouldn't want her to think that," she said. She hoped the disappointment she felt didn't show on her face.

  He reached out, cupped her cheek with his hand, and brushed the pad of his thumb across her skin. "What time should I expect you?" he asked.

  Surprised, she chewed on her bottom lip before raising her eyes to meet his. "Six?"

  He nodded. "Six it is." He smiled and turned to leave.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shane knew Star watched him walked out to his bike. He tried to act all calm and cool, like he hadn't just invited her up to his apartment. Truth was he was quaking in his boots. She was different from all of the other girls he'd been with. More mature. Not just because she was older, the age thing didn't matter to him.

  They were a lot alike on so many levels. She just got him. He was pretty sure no matter what subject they discussed, she'd find a way to make it the most interesting topic on the planet. He was attracted to her, both body and mind, and was dying to taste her soft, full lips.

  He craved conversation with her. He was addicted to their lighthearted banter and her unapologetic sarcasm. When he'd invited her up to his apartment, he was scared shitless that she'd laugh at him and tell him no. Terrified she wouldn't take him seriously.

  Shane turned up the music and danced around the apartment playing a mean air guitar. His apartment didn't need to be cleaned. Whenever he had a hard time sleeping, he did one of three things: he sat on the back ledge and gazed at the stars, played his guitar, or cleaned the apartment.

  ***

  Star dropped heavily onto her bed and wondered what the hell she'd been thinking when she'd agreed to go to Shane's apartment. She liked spending time with him, and was definitely attracted to him. The way he shamelessly flirted with her was sweet and helped to bolster her sagging ego, but she worried that by being alone with him she might give him the wrong idea, or imply that she was interested in getting involved with him.

  It wasn't only the difference in their ages. Star just wasn't in a position to get into a relationship with anyone right now.

  She stood up, paced around the room, and tried to come up with some excuse as to why she shouldn't go to his place. She decided to see how things played out between them before she jumped to any conclusions. What if she told him she didn't think it was a good idea for them to become romantically involved, and that wasn't his intention at all? What if he just wanted to be friends?

  She must have changed shirts at least three times before she finally settled on something more casual than sexy. Not that she owned a whole lot of anything in that category. She ended up wearing an old Arkansas Razorbacks hoodie that she'd had forever.

  Before she left, she checked in with Neona. "Neona, would it be okay if I borrowed the Jeep to visit Shane?" she asked.

  "Of course, I've already given you permission to use it while you're here."

  Star bit her lower lip and nodded. "I know. I just didn't want to take advantage, that's all."

  "Don't be silly!" Neona said. "Go. Have a good time."

  "Thanks," she said.

  When Star got to Shane's, she stood on the landing at the top of the stairs outside his apartment. She tried to rub the nervous chill from her arms before knocking on his door and snickered when she thought about the last time she'd been inside his apartment. She lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles against the door.

  Shane stirred the boiling pasta on top of the stove and grabbed a towel to wipe his hands. He quickly scanned the room to make sure nothing was out of place. After a second knock, he pulled open the door to greet the most interesting woman he'd ever known.

  He smiled his sexy smile and stepped aside motioning her inside. "Hope you're hungry," he said.

  She returned his smile and took off her coat. "I didn't think you cooked anything here."

  "It's just a little spaghetti with sauce." He laughed, taking her coat and draping it over the back of the sofa. He waved his arm around the room. "Make yourself at home. We'll eat in a few minutes."

  Star
sat on the couch and took in the tiny living room. It was sparsely furnished with a couch, two end tables, coffee table, TV and a bookshelf. The walls were bare, except for a framed poster she recognized as a Hubble Space Telescope image of the Pleiades stellar cluster.

  Her eyes roved over to a guitar case propped up against the wall. "You play the guitar?" she asked.

  "Yeah, a little," he said.

  She ran her hand over the rough leather of the black case. "Would you play for me?" she asked softly. She glanced in his direction for a response.

  He smiled and said, "I'd love to. After dinner?"

  "Of course," she said. She crossed the room and sat down on one of the two barstools at the counter. "Where'd you learn to play?"

  He sat a plate of spaghetti in front of her and took out a pan of garlic bread from the oven. "Self-taught. The guitar belonged to my dad."

  Star sensed a black cloud cross over him when he mentioned his father. She felt there was a story behind the mood shift, but didn't want to ruin the night by dredging up something he didn't seem to be forthcoming about. She twisted a forkful of the pasta noodles and popped them in her mouth. "Homemade sauce?"

  "Sure. If you call opening a jar and heating it up, 'homemade,' then homemade it is." He winked at her.

  "I'm impressed," she told him.

  "Oh shit," he jumped up and grabbed a glass. "Where the hell are my manners? I've got soda or water. Which would you like?"

  "Water's fine."

  "I don't keep anything stronger in the house," he said. He met her eyes for a split-second before dropping his gaze to his plate. "I had a problem saying no for a while."

  "That's fine. I'm not much of a drinker, really. Something about living with an alcoholic sort of took the fun out of it for me," she admitted candidly.

  "I wouldn't say I'm an alcoholic, but I was headed down a one way road to hell paved with good intentions. Drugs, booze, and anything else I could get my hands on to help me forget," he said with a shrug.

  "You want to talk about it?"

  He shook his head. "Not so much. It's too fucking depressing."

  She nodded. "I hear ya."

  After they were done eating and cleaning up the kitchen, he reached for her hand. "C'mon, let's go relax." He led her into the living room.

  She folded her legs beneath her on one end of the sofa and watched him pick up the guitar case. "What would you like to hear?"

  "Surprise me," she smiled shyly in his direction.

  He sat on the floor at her feet and focused on his fingers as they found the right chords. He strummed a few notes, and when he was satisfied the instrument was still in tune, he started to play. He was rewarded by the wide-eyed look of recognition on her face.

  "Foreigner, right?" she whispered. "I Want To Know What Love Is?"

  He nodded. "Do you want me to show you?" he asked, rearranging the words of the song.

  "I see what you did there," she said, trying not to think about how much she'd like for him to show her what he knew about love. She leaned toward him and considered what it would be like to run her fingers through his hair.

  "What? No. Well yeah, but what I meant was, do you want me to show you how to play the guitar?" he stammered.

  She bit her lip and nodded. "I would love it," she told him enthusiastically.

  "Here," he stood and handed her the guitar, "scootch forward."

  She blinked up at him. Was he seriously going to sit so close to her? "Okay." She took the beautiful instrument from his hands and sat forward on the edge of the sofa.

  He slid in behind her and wrapped his arms around hers. He moved her hands into position, placing her fingers gently on the frets.

  She tried to concentrate on the placement of her fingers as he showed her, but the only thing she was picking up on was the way his hard chest felt pressed against her back. She worked hard to slow her breathing, hoping her heartbeat would follow suit. His touch made her feel electric and alive, like being suddenly plugged in. She leaned into him, wanting to feel more of his body against hers.

  Determined to prove she was teachable, she paid attention to what he showed her and surprised herself by playing a couple of chords.

  "There you go," he told her. "You're getting it. Is there any particular song you want to learn?"

  She pursed her lips and thought about it for a few minutes. A trace of a smile slid across her face. She looked over her shoulder at him. "I wanna learn a love song."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  His warm breath teased the hair on the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Shane whispered in her ear, "You're doing amazing, Blue."

  She was at war with herself. One part resisted the urge to let go, to relax fully against his warmth and absorb his comforting energy, while the other pieces of her soul feared those very things. Torn, she was scared of his touch and the reaction she was sure it would bring, but she wanted to give in to the closeness she craved. It was as though past experience had taught her to smell the danger giving in to her desires represented.

  She took a deep breath and leaned away from him. She sat the guitar on the floor beside them. The night was young, and she wasn't yet ready for it to end, but she needed to put some space between their bodies while she came to terms with the attraction she felt for him.

  Shane watched her stand. His expression didn't hide his disappointment. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asked.

  She pulled at a loose thread on the cuff of her sweatshirt. "A little, maybe."

  His eyebrows drew together as he thought about what to say next. Instead of speaking, he stood and reached for her hand. "Come with me, I want to show you something," he said, pulling her along behind him. He grabbed her coat from the sofa. "You might want to put this on."

  He neared the rear of his apartment, dropped her hand, and popped open the window. What in the hell is he thinking, opening the window as cold as it is outside? When he started to climb through, she believed that he'd truly lost his mind. "What are you doing?" she gasped, and reached for the back of his sweatshirt.

  He peeked over his shoulder at her. "Relax. I promise I'm not suicidal." He laughed as he disappeared through the opening. She stepped forward and put her hands on the sill, gaping out at him. "Join me?"

  She realized he was standing on a narrow ledge. She shook her head and said, "You're crazy. You know that, right?" She sat on the window frame before climbing out, one leg at a time.

  He was hunched over, already working to focus a very large telescope. "It's not Neptune, but have a look," he said, beaming proudly.

  She inched closer, and peered through the viewfinder up at the night sky. "Venus," she marveled, and pressed her eye to the eyepiece again. "The sky is so clear. The view out here is incredible."

  "I know," he agreed.

  She turned toward him, and he stared at her uncomplicated beauty through hooded eyes. She pointed toward the cloudless sky above them. "I'm talking about the view up there."

  "That too," he breathed. As he stepped closer to her, she visibly tensed. He ran his hand through his long blonde hair and whispered, "What are you afraid of, Blue?"

  "Are we back to the twenty-one questions game?" she asked. "Because if we are, I think I'll skip that one for now." She turned to crawl back through the window.

  "Star, wait." Shane sighed. Instinctively, he reached for her, but when she flinched, he withdrew. Her sad brown eyes shone in the moonlight. He held up his hands in surrender. "I'll never hurt you, Blue."

  "No, it's okay. I really should be going. It's late." She smiled halfheartedly before climbing back into his apartment.

  He followed her inside and said, "Look, we all have skeletons in our closet we'd rather not deal with. I get that. Talk to me. Please?"

  She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him. To open up and let another man into her heart was something she wasn't sure she could handle. She blinked at him and pulled her lips between her teeth. She didn't want to cry, but she
lost the fight as one hot tear after another slid down her cheeks. He pulled her against him and she didn't resist.

  They stood wrapped in one another's arms. He ran his hand up and down her back while she silently wept. After several minutes, when she felt as though she'd exhausted all of her tears, she drew away to look at him. Wordlessly, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for letting me ruin your shirt," she sniffled.

  He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her, just a light brush of his lips across hers at first. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stepped closer to him, pressing her body against the length of his. The passion she felt for him was real and made her knees go weak.

  His tongue found its way between her lips, and she sucked it deeper as her hands fisted in the front of his sweatshirt. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she imagined his tongue making love to her mouth.

  It was Shane who broke their kiss first. He rested his forehead against hers. "I'm pretty sure I just saw stars," he panted.

  She inhaled deeply and held it before sighing noisily. "I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened."

  He studied her face curiously. "What do you mean? That was only the most amazing kiss I've ever had. Like I said, I saw stars, my toes curled. The whole nine yards." He was trying to make light of the tension between them.

  She playfully swatted his chest. "I never said I didn't like it. I just think it would be better for us both, especially you, if we didn't get involved with one another."

  "What? Why?" he questioned.

  She gently extracted herself from his arms. "Several reasons, actually."

  He cocked his head and prodded, "Go on, I'm listening."

  "You're only twenty-one, Shane. I'm thirty-years-old. Right now, the whole older woman thing might seem hot to you, but trust me, ten years from now, it won't."

  "Wait, you're thirty?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her. Frustrated, she threw her hands in the air and groaned. He smirked and reached for her. "I'm kidding. Truth is, I don't care how old you are. Your age, our age difference, has never even crossed my mind."