What If I Never (Necklace Trilogy 1)

My fingers curl on the hard, warm wall of his chest. “Why?” I challenge. “Because I’m a lamb and you’re a lion?”

“Yes,” he says softly.

I have no idea why his simple answer triggers me, but it’s most likely about my father, but then again, I’m not sure I want to allow Dash that out, either. The second thoughts I wasn’t having are now clear and present. I twist away from him, but when I would start walking, he catches me, rotating me back into him. His fingers splay on my lower back, our bodies molded snuggly together. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t have it in me to play head games, Dash. My father is all about games. Tyler is no different. I can’t take that from you, too.”

“I don’t play games.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that right now. Just—I’ll call an Uber.”

“No, you will not call an Uber. If you really want to go back to Tyler’s house—”

“My house,” I amend. “I don’t live in Tyler’s house any more than any tenant does a rental property. And that house is the last place I want to be right now.” My cellphone rings and I pull it from my purse to find Tyler’s number on my caller ID. Anger jabs at me. He did this. He arranged for my father to be a surprise tonight. I hit decline.

Dash, who has obviously seen my caller ID, arches a brow.

I answer that non-question with a non-answer. “Can we please go now?”

His eyes glint intensely through the darkness, a second that becomes three before he captures my hand and starts walking.

Our destination turns out to be a sporty black BMW at the side of the house, out of the view of the front door, and parked under a willow tree. Dash is opening the passenger door for me and eager for the escape, I slide into the seat, sleek leather hugging my body. Dash shuts me inside, seals my fate for this evening, which will end with him. I think, on some level, this night, me going home with him, was always where we were going to land. I’ve just hooked my seatbelt and Dash is already sliding in beside me, man and machine, both fiercely masculine. He revs the engine and glances over at me. “My place.”

It’s not a question, but yet, it is a question. “Your place,” I repeat.

His lips curve, satisfaction filling his handsome face, before he sets us in motion, driving us away from Tyler’s house and toward his own.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Dash pulls us onto the highway, heading back toward downtown, and turns up the radio as Jason Aldean’s “Girl Like You” begins to play. I smile at him and the radio choice. He smiles back and that push and pull of me staying behind or going has passed. I’m going with him. I’m all in on this night and so is he. The words of the song fill the air.

The night's moving fast but we ain't taking it slower

You hit me harder than a drink does

You're gonna take me all the way up

Something about you baby, got me going crazy

I sink back into my seat, the attraction between me and Dash charging the air, the earthy, masculine scent of him all around me, and I am swimming in the vast ocean of this man. He catches my hand and the heat between us is downright visceral, the looks we share heated, intimate. We’ve just entered downtown, anticipation and tension building, when a siren whirls behind us. Dash eyes his speed and then glances at me. “And I’m speeding.” He glances over at me. “Obviously, I’m in a hurry to get you to my place.”

And I’m in a hurry to get there, I think, as he pulls us over and then rolls down his window. An officer shows up at the door. “Sorry about that, officer. I do believe I was speeding.”

“Well, sir,” the officer replies, “I’ll let you off if you let me just take a gander at this here car of yours. She is a beauty.”

I’m kind of appalled at this reply, but Dash laughs a low rumble of laughter. “You can drive it if you want, Jack.”

That’s when I realize he knows Dash. “And wreck it?” Jack asks. “Hell no. I just want to gander. And it’s official, the M4 special edition Kith is a stunner.”

Dash glances over at me. “Give me a minute, cupcake. I’ll be right back.”

I smile and nod, starting to actually like the “cupcake” nickname. Dash opens the door and steps outside and I can hear him talking to Jack. “Come by this weekend,” Dash tells him. “You can drive it.”

“No, man. I don’t need to do that.”

“It’s cool,” Dash says. “I don’t mind at all. Just text me first to make sure I’m there.”