Level Up: A Geek Romance Rom Com, Book 1 (Fandom Hearts) Page 11

"Come on. Let's get you to bed," he said.

  She looked startled...then her grin grew wider.

  "You. To your bed. To sleep," he said in a hurry, and she laughed.

  "I know. Just teasing you," she said, but he looped an arm around her waist anyway. "You know, I never had as much fun as I had tonight, other than maybe when I met the girls in the bookstore. And even then, I'm still a little nervous around them--like they might just decide I don't fit in, you know?"

  "Well, you've known the guys for four years now," he replied. She stopped dead in the hallway, making him pause.

  "No. I was comfortable because you were there," she said. "I knew that you'd keep me safe. That you wouldn't let them pick on me. That I could let down my guard and you'd have my back. Not that I can't take care of myself," she said, "but it was nice to know I didn't need to, if I didn't want to."

  He smiled at her, pushing some hair out of her eyes. "Damn straight."

  "You're nice."

  He flinched. "I'm nice," he said, with a sigh. God, what guy wanted to be described with something as tepid as nice?

  "I like nice," she said. Then she pressed her body against his and kissed him. Hard.

  His mind went temporarily blank for a second. Even tipsy, she was a great kisser. Hell, maybe because she was tipsy--because her inhibitions were lowered and her impulses were running amuck--she was more passionate and less restrained, causing her to suddenly become some Shaolin kissing master. All he wanted to do was kiss back, hard.

  So he did.

  Just for a few minutes, he thought. Because she felt so damned good. He wove his fingers in her hair, holding moving his lips against hers, tasting her, delving deeper as the kiss went white-hot. She groaned, low in her throat, pressing her breasts against his chest. His whole body tightened in response.

  "Adam," she crooned, her voice ragged, her breath hitched. "Adam."

  For a second, he wanted absolutely nothing more than to carry her to bed, join her there, and enjoy everything her body was so amply promising.

  She's drunk, dude.

  He took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he quickly and quietly disentangled her, nudging her to the bed. She tumbled onto it, arching her back, giving him a look of sheer lust that hit him like a bolt of lightning. Cursing his own morals, he pulled her comforter up to her chin. She giggled a little before realizing he really wasn't going to join her. Then she stared, confused, frowning at him from the bed.

  "But...don't you...want to?"

  "More than breathing," he said immediately, and regretted his choice of words as her eyes glowed. "But remember what you just said? You knew you could let down your guard, and that I'll keep you safe?"

  "Yeah..."

  "That includes now. I'll even keep you safe from me." He pulled up the blanket and tucked her in. "When you're sober and you want to try that again, I'll do things that will make you forget your own name. But until then----get some sleep, Tess."

  "Damn your reason and logic," she said, and he could hear the pout in her voice from underneath the sheet she'd pulled over her face.

  He retreated to his room, his body throbbing like one big nerve. He'd never had to do anything so hard in his life.

  But she won't be drunk forever, he thought. And he'd made one hell of a promise. While he knew it was a bad idea -- he couldn't help but wait to see when, or if, she'd collect on it.

  CHAPTER 8

  Tessa let out a small shriek when the loud, staccato buzzing went off somewhere near her ear. She immediately noticed two things: one, that the little shriek reverberated through her head like a church bell, and two, the buzzing was her alarm clock--which was making her head ache like a woodpecker was drilling into it. She swatted at the sound, which only managed to make the clock scoot further away. More spastic flailing made it fall on the floor. Finally, she grunted and blindly yanked out the power cord.

  "Die, you bastard," she said into the pillow, grateful for the silence.

  A small knock at the door had her sit up--a move that was far too fast, making her stomach lurch.

  Adam was leaning on the doorframe, a bottle of water in one hand. "Good morning, sunshine."

  She was pretty sure her hair was sticking out of her head like Medusa's snakes. At least it was still dark out--ah, January in Washington state--so he wasn't seeing the horror that clearly. "There is nothing good," she muttered.

  He held the bottle out to her, then put some pills in her hand. "For the headache," he said, kindly whispering.

  "If I ever drink anything ever again," she said, taking the pills and glugging some water, "forcibly stop me. Please."

  "I will remind you of this morning," he agreed. "If that doesn't stop you, nothing will. Drink all that water, but slowly. And I've got some food..."

  She made a retching noise.

  "Dry toast, a little applesauce," he said. "You'll feel better."

  She dutifully drank more water. "I may call in sick," she said, then winced. "That wouldn't be very team spirited of me, though, would it?"

  "Not really, no."

  "And the guys would rib me mercilessly," she realized.

  "Yes. Yes, they would."

  "Fine." She got up, realizing she was still in the same clothes from the night before. "You tucked me in last night, huh?"

  "That, I did."

  Suddenly, a terrible suspicion started to bloom. "Did I..." she rubbed at her temple, "um, proposition you, by any chance?"

  His grin was huge. "Possibly."

  "And you..." She frowned. "Um..."

  "Tucked you in and suffered mightily," he said, winking at her. "Come to the kitchen when you're ready."

  She groaned. "I'll be there in five," she said. "This is a go-to-work in sweats kind of day."

  "No, actually, it's not," he said. "Don't you remember?"

  She wracked her pain-filled head. "Remember what...oh, crap."

  "Can't wait to see you dressed up," he said, winking. "Sailor Moon."

  "Crap crap crap." She hopped out of bed, wincing as her head throbbed. "They can't really expect me to go through with this," she said, following him out the door.

  "Are you kidding? I wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly why they got you liquored up last night."

  "That was team building!" she called, then held the sides of her head. "And ow."

  "You were the one that made the promise," he pointed out. "Coffee?"

  "Industrial sized," she said.

  "Take a shower, you'll feel better. And we'll go in a little late if you need it--they'll understand."

  "Don't suppose they'd understand if I just gave them a rain check," she mumbled under her breath, but of course Adam heard it anyway.

  "They might understand, but they'd think less of you." He didn't say that he would, as well. Honestly, he didn't have to.

  She'd made a promise. She would think less of herself if she welshed on the deal.

  "Give me a few minutes," she grumbled. "My Sailor Prism Power Make Up is a little out of practice."

  He was chuckling as he headed down the stairs. She dashed into the bathroom, jumping into the shower, which did make her feel a bit more human, especially as the painkillers started to kick in. But by the time she headed back to her room and pulled out the costume that Kyla had given her, just a few days ago, when she'd told Kyla about the deal she'd made with the guys to get them to work with her. She suddenly felt sick all over again.

  "Whose idea was it to wear a tiny ruffled miniskirt when the wind chill's in the teens?" she muttered, struggling into the unitard with its frilly blue skirt. She tied the bow, put on the blond wig complete with buns and long pigtails, and adjusted the moon tiara over her forehead. Because the whole thing had to be complete, she even put on make-up...which in and of itself was a novel endeavor. She was pretty sure no one in the company had seen her in lipstick. Not even when she interviewed.

  As a concession to the cold, she pulled on opaque white tights. The over-the-knee boots were cloth, at l
east, giving her another layer of warmth, but they were also heeled, which meant she'd need to be extra careful going down the stairs.

  "Next time, I'm going to let them duct tape me to an office chair," she said darkly. Then she grabbed the big, full-length down coat that Ani had gotten her one year, when she'd visited the lab in Helsinki. It was white and made her look like a quilted marshmallow.

  Very carefully, she negotiated the stairs, walking in. Adam turned around, then burst out laughing.

  "Well, the hair's right," he said, smirking. "But what the hell are you wearing?"

  "You try wearing a micro-mini when it's twenty degrees out," she muttered.

  "Well, the tiara's dead on. Your friend does good work," he said, then stared at her for a second.

  "What?" She started to put her gloves to her face, then remembered she was wearing Sailor's full opera-length white gloves, which would get make up smeared all over them if she wasn't careful. "Did I screw up? Is something smudged already?"

  "No," he said, quietly. "You've got pretty eyes. I always thought they were brown, but they're more hazel. Now, they're almost green."

  She stared at him for a second. His eyes were warm. No, hot. They were blazing like acetylene torches. His hungry gaze burned her, in the best possible way.

  He looked like wanted to kiss her, hard and fast and just as hot as his gaze.

  She swallowed hard. She suddenly realized--she wanted him to. She had always wanted to. Why else had she kept kissing him at every opportunity, then rationalized it away?

  What was her problem?

  Maybe she was making it too complicated.

  Or maybe you're just being an idiot and putting your hormones in the driver seat, you jackass. Ever thought of that?

  She cleared her throat. "If I don't go now, I think I won't go at all," she said. "So I guess we'd better, erm, go."

  "Okay," he said. "Let's do this thing."

  She started to turn, and heard dripping. "Hey, the faucet's still on. Shouldn't you turn it off?"

  "I'm letting it drip. That'll keep the pipes from freezing," he said, following her as she billowed her way down the hallway. "It's just been too cold. They're saying a bad windstorm tonight, too. I wouldn't be surprised if we lost power."

  "Lose power? Will we be okay?"

  "Sure. The woodstove works great," he assured her. "We'll camp out here in the living room if we have to, and I've got lanterns...we can even run the generator if push comes to shove."

  He sounded blasé, so she felt her anxiety level go down.

  "Besides," he added, "if we really get stuck, we can use your coat as a tent."

  "Ha ha, funny," she said.

  "Need help with the door? Do you need to turn sideways?"

  She stuck out her tongue at him, then stepped outside. It was like getting slapped with a frozen washcloth, and she caught her breath. "Crap!"

  "Brisk," he agreed, locking the door behind them. "Do I need to get a shoehorn or something to get you in the..."

  "Oh, shut up," she said, taking a step and forgetting she was wearing high heels. She pitched forward, yelping.

  He caught her and swung her against him, her face spiraling near his. Her heart was racing--mostly from the near fall.

  But also from the catch.

  "You okay?" he murmured.

  She couldn't speak. She just nodded, making an inarticulate noise.

  He held her tight for a second, and her body ached. Just lean a little closer, she told herself. Just a fraction...

  She pulled back.

  "Guess we'd better wedge this coat into the car," she said, her voice shaking. And cursed herself for being a coward.

  Adam was still grinning when they got into the office. There were more people around now, since the holidays were officially over...much to Tessa's chagrin, since her audience was now a lot larger. He accompanied her to her cubicle, only to see José, Fezza, Rodney, and even Stacy standing there, waiting expectantly.

  "Oh, lord," Tessa breathed. "Tell me they're not all there to see my Sailor Moon impression."

  "I could, but I'd be lying," Adam said, then stood back, crossing his arms.

  "You, too?" she said, looking irritated. "Can't you let me humiliate myself in peace?"

  "Take it off! Take it off!" Fezza called, until Adam glared at him. "I meant the coat," he added, eyes still mischievous.

  Tessa took a deep breath, then unzipped her voluminous coat and, closing her eyes, pulled it open.

  For a second, Adam's mind went completely, utterly blank.

  She was wearing an honest-to-God replica, and an amazing job of one, at that. The skirt was short and high on the sides, flouncing out in a royal blue that matched the sailor-bow at the bottom of her v-neckline. She methodically hung the coat up over the side of the cubicle, then stepped out for all to see.

  "There, okay? Are you guys happy?"

  Adam still didn't say anything. Lord, she was even wearing the knee-high boots and the gloves. Her flowing pigtails bounced and cascaded.

  How had he never noticed she had such long legs before? And while she wasn't really built, she was willowy, graceful. Like a drawing come to life.

  The guys were staring at her, too, he slowly realized. And everybody was silent.

  He saw her cheeks redden. "Is it that bad?" she asked, in a small voice.

  "Holy shit," Fezza said instead, "you look incredible."

  "Can you do the thing?" José asked, making a weird hand gesture. "You know, the Sailor Moon thing?"

  She laughed--an anime-girl laugh of pure merriment, surprisingly convincing--before she spun on one toe, and did the karate-styled gestures. "Sailor Moon Plasma Phase Make Up!"

  "Holy shit!" Fezza repeated, applauding. Soon, everyone else was applauding, as well.

  Stacy hugged her. "You have got to wear that to the next Con," she said. "It's only a few months away, and you will be awesome."

  "Coffee," Tessa said, hugging her back. "I'll be happy to discuss wearing this or anything else, but I desperately need coffee."

  He watched her disappear toward the break room, arm-in-arm with Stacy, as the guys trailed in their wake with shell-shocked expressions and wide, goofy grins.

  He was still poleaxed.

  She looked amazing--and not at all like the girl he thought he knew.

  What else was she hiding?

  It was ridiculous. He'd been turned on before. Now, he was on jet fuel or something. Not because he had a Sailor Moon fetish. But because she'd looked completely happy. That smile could've turned on a statue.

  God. She's amazing.

  He heard his phone ring, and answered it absently. "Hello?"

  "Adam."

  "Yes?" He barely heard the voice. He saw Tessa disappear behind the corner, and shook his head, trying to shake off the weird spell he was under.

  "Adam," the voice repeated, with more irritation now. "It's Casey."

  "Casey?"

  "Casey, your ex." She now sounded really irritated. "Remember?"

  "Oh, yeah. Sorry, was...thinking about something else." He hurried to his desk, taking off his own coat and throwing it on its hook. "What's up?"

  He heard her take a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize...you know. For New Year's. The call."

  "Oh, that." He rubbed at his eyes. Even though he'd deliberately avoided the booze last night, between the coding and wanting to keep an eye on Tessa, he still hadn't gotten that much sleep after Tessa's invitation. "No worries, Case. I figured you'd been drinking, and your family's out here--you were alone for the holiday. That's gotta be hard, right?"

  "What makes you think I was alone on New Year's?"

  "C'mon, Case. We both know nobody drunk dials their ex when they've got a warm body."

  "Oh?" Another pause, apparently tinged with guilt. That quickly turned to a spark of anger. "Is that why you didn't call me?" She snapped.

  He sighed. There was a time when he would've automatically reassured her. He knew Casey had some
security issues. That was why the job meant so much to her. At one time, he'd prided himself on being the one who understood her--the one who could weather her moodiness, who was there when she needed him. Hell, he'd talked to her a few times after she'd moved, hoping she'd change her mind, wanting to let her know that he was still there, still waiting.

  It occurred to him that he'd possibly been a bit of an enabler. A "nice guy."

  In this case, an idiot.

  "Did you need something, Casey?" he said, noticing the chill in his own voice.

  The pause this time was different--it seemed surprised. "Um...just...I wanted to say I was sorry."

  "And I said don't worry about it." He cleared his throat. Tessa was coming back out, now smiling and doing silly karate moves with the guys. She was laughing.

  He liked seeing Tessa laugh.

  Casey wasn't hanging up the phone, and he sighed. "Listen, I've got a lot of work I have to..."

  "Let me clarify: I'm sorry I was drunk and weepy," Casey said. "But I'm not sorry about what I said."

  That knocked him for a loop. "What are you talking about?"

  "I still love you, Adam."

  What the hell?

  Tessa winked at him, then did a little "o" of surprise and an exaggerated happy smile--cartoon broad, with both her eyes scrunched shut. He chuckled.

  "I said, I still love you," Casey said, with a slight growl in her voice.

  "Oh."

  Tessa sat down, and started typing. He turned back to his own computer.

  Adam took a deep breath, then tried to focus on the phone call. "Listen, I care about you. I always will."

  A tiny sniffle. "You...care about me?"

  Adam rubbed his temple. "You know that, Casey," he said, with a trace of impatience. He opened his own email. There was something--something from the head project manager and producer, Jacob. Maybe about the new game? He opened it with a click.

  "I'm starting to think I made a mistake, moving here."

  "Nonsense." He felt a little tension wiggle out of his shoulders. So that's what this was. A buck-up-little-camper call. She was feeling a little insecure, needed someone to cheer her up. "You know you're a kick ass journalist, and you always wanted to make it in New York. You've only been there for a year. You'll do fine."