Choosing to ignore the sketch, I walked past him into my kitchen and grabbed the bourbon and diet coke, and poured myself another drink. Double strength, because at this point, I needed it. Stat.
I was so engrossed in my drink and shoving my embarrassment aside that I didn’t hear him move next to me. The first I knew he was there was when he placed his hand over mine that was holding the bottle. His touch sent jolts of electricity through me, and my legs wobbled a little as I tried to keep my balance.
Oh, God.
This man.
“How do you figure I’m not interested in you?” he asked, his voice all deep and gravelly, just the way I loved it.
I stilled. My breathing slowed as anticipation flowed through me. I looked up at him. “You said as much today at Josie’s.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Had he suffered some kind of memory loss this afternoon?
“Yeah, you did, Griff.”
His gaze remained steady on mine. “When?”
“You said Josie knew you weren’t interested in me and that she was trying to get you to change your mind.”
He took a deep breath and his chest rose and fell with a hard thud. His hand slid off mine to take hold of the bottle, and he reached for an empty glass out of my dish rack. A few moments later, he’d poured himself a bourbon, neat. As he took a long gulp, his gaze found mine again, and I caught heat there.
“I am as far from uninterested in you as a man can get, Sophia.”
“Oh.” He’d caught me off guard with such an honest, straight-to-the-point statement, and words failed me. Excitement snaked through me, though, and I let that sink in. This gorgeous man standing in front of me, in my house, was interested in me.
“But, I don’t date,” he said, and in four words, obliterated everything he’d just given me. A man who didn’t date meant one thing – he only wanted sex.
I lifted my glass to my lips and drank some before saying, “Is that what you came here to tell me? Because I’m not really sure what to do with that, handsome. I’m as far from the kind of girl who settles for one-night-stands as a woman can get.”
“Yeah, I figured that. And no, that’s not what I came here to say. I actually wanted to apologise to you for acting like a prick today. I was in the middle of a shit of a day, and Josie knows how to push my buttons. I love her, but goddamn, she can push me to places that make me act like an asshole, and I’m sorry for that.”
“I can appreciate that. And I can totally understand how a bad day affects you because I’ve been having a few of those lately, too.” I paused before saying, “Apology accepted.”
He seemed surprised, and didn’t say anything more before finishing his drink.
“Do you always use your words so economically?” I asked, a little frustrated because I was the kind of woman who liked conversation.
He finished off his drink and then gave me his eyes. God, those eyes were full of secrets and depth and hurt. I was sure of it. Something about Griff screamed damage. Perhaps it was the way he watched you – as if he was always assessing a threat – or maybe it was the way he held himself back – not only his words, but he also held his body as if he didn’t want to get too close; didn’t want to get burned. “I’ve never met a woman like you. You’re like this odd combination of all woman – in the way you seem to suffer from female insecurities that, in my opinion, aren’t warranted, and in the way you have this sexy-as-fuck way you move and talk – but then you’ve got this other side where you speak with honesty in a way a lot of women I’ve known don’t,” he finally said, taking my breath away with his own honesty.
I smiled. “So that would be a “no” in answer to my previous question.”
The corners of his mouth lifted as if he was going to smile, but he didn’t. Instead, he simply said, “Correct. Sometimes I have a lot to say, but not often. Mostly, I find people aren’t interested so much in what other people have to say; they’re more interested in the sound of their own voice, and only want to hear yours if you’re agreeing with what they’re saying.”
I grinned. “For the record, handsome, I like the sound of your voice more than the sound of my own, so feel free to talk as much as you want around me. I’m all ears.”
He stared at me. “Fuck.”
I cocked my head to the side. “I’ll take that as a good ‘fuck’ rather than a bad one, shall I?”
He raked his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “I’m not sure yet, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
I could get used to him calling me that.
He’s already told you he doesn’t date.