Eric withdrew from her, went back to where he originally sat. Frustration ran through him, flowed through his veins, throbbed throughout his entire body and he wondered what this woman’s game was.
Everyone had a game. His was to conquer as many as he could as fast as he could. Was she a ball buster? Did she enjoy letting men hang on a string? She sure seemed to.
“You’re mad,” she finally said after the silence between them went on too long.
“Frustrated,” he answered. “I don’t get you.” He decided to be honest.
She frowned. “Can’t I just be your friend?”
“Is that really all you want?’ He guzzled the rest of the soda down, wishing yet again for liquor. The minute he left this woman he would go find a bar, get drunk and get laid.
He immediately felt like shit for the thought.
“Listen.” She reached across the table and settled her hand over his. Her skin was pale against his, her fingers small, elegant. A plain silver band circled the ring finger on her right hand, and he wondered idly who gave it to her. “I like you. I think you need a friend as much as I do. So why can’t we start out as just…friends?”
“I don’t start out as just friends with anyone.”
She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. “Maybe that’s your problem.”
“Are you saying I have a problem?” He withdrew his hand from beneath hers, immediately feeling defensive.
“I—I didn’t mean it like that.” She shook her head and despite his mounting anger and frustration he couldn’t help but think how pretty she looked.
And how disappointed he was she didn’t want to move this into the sexual adventure zone right away.
“Listen.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “I’m on edge, and I’m acting like an asshole. Don’t forget I warned you about that, you know.”
“I know.” She nodded, nibbling on that lush lower lip. Lust coursed through his veins and unbelievably, he felt himself grow hard. Jesus, he was ridiculous. “It’s just after everything that’s happened to me, I’m really not ready for anything like—this.”
“Like what?” Now that statement intrigued him. What exactly was she talking about?
She rolled her eyes, looked vaguely uncomfortable. “You know.”
“No, I really don’t.” He shook his head, perplexed. And damn it, feeling a little hopeful too.
“There’s a connection here.” She whispered the last two words, her gaze sliding this way and that, as if she didn’t want anyone to hear she just admitted that. “Between us. Can’t you feel it?”
“Baby, I feel it so much I can hardly control myself.” Again he slid toward her, slipped his arm around her shoulders and stroked the bare, warm skin of her upper arm. Felt her shiver beneath his fingers and he smiled.
“Eric.” She gazed up at him, the vulnerability written all over his face. “I mean it. I’m—you make me nervous.”
Nice to know the feeling was mutual. She made him nervous as hell. “Let me kiss you just once.” Now she’d reduced him to begging. Nice.
She stared deep into his eyes, so deep it was as if she could look into his soul and he wanted to squirm. Wanted to slip out of the booth and run away without ever looking back.
It also made him want to kneel before her and bare it all. Let her know exactly what he was, who he was and know deep down inside she would accept him no matter what.
Yeah. The thought was scary, yet it held a certain appeal he couldn’t deny.
He leaned down, brushed her lips with his. Just an innocent kiss, a whisper-soft touch of lips against lips. And yet it rocked him to his very core. He wanted more. He wanted to devour her but he held off.
“See?” she whispered when he lifted his head away from hers. “There it is. You can’t deny it.”
No, he couldn’t. But it would be best if he could pretend it didn’t exist. Ignore it because it scared the hell out of him. That’s what he did now. Ignored everything that made him feel anything beyond sexual satisfaction.
It was easier that way.
“Uh, I need to go to the bathroom,” he mumbled, slipping away from her, both physically and emotionally. Slipped right out of the booth and stood before the table. Stacy watched him warily.