Unthinkable (Unstoppable 2)

It’s not even a date.

I pulled the door wide, and my hand strangled the knob as my eyes greedily drank in every detail of the guy staring back at me. The thin material of his cobalt blue sweater stretched over his wide chest, the color almost identical to his eyes in the dark, and he shifted a little on his feet, tucking his hands in the pockets of a pair of black jeans that molded his thick thighs to perfection. His shoulders pulled back with his heavy breath in, and then his head dipped, those full lips twitching in a way that made him appear nervous. Shit, he looked adorable. Sexy and goddamn adorable. And it was a lethal combination, because that flicker of uncertainty that flashed in his half-lidded gaze had me questioning why I couldn’t just give this a shot.

“Well? What’s it gonna be, Snow Queen?”

His question echoed the one running through my head.

TWENTY-SEVEN

LEON

I lost ninety-nine percent of feeling in my limbs when Lissa appeared in her doorway—a direct result of every ounce of blood in my body speeding to my dick.

Black denim hugged her slim thighs and hips, and the shimmery material of her top dipped between her breasts, offering a hint of delicious creamy, cleavage. The braids she wore somehow managed to make her look adorable, even while I imagined wrapping my hands around them and slamming into her from behind.

I attempted to clear my head with a brusque shake and lifted my gaze to her face. Her widened eyes, along with the deep rise of her shoulders, told me we were both out of our element here.

Something had shifted between us. Not just the attraction. I couldn’t pinpoint how or when, but something fundamental in the way I viewed Alissa Bedford had changed. And it hadn’t happened overnight either.

I’d tried to fool myself into thinking I didn’t give a shit this past five months.

I gave a shit.

I gave more shits about this girl right here than I’d ever given about anything else in my life. I shifted on my feet, utterly aware of how invested I was, and how hesitant she was. From that first kiss, Lissa had been on the defensive. She gave off this air of being indestructible, like nothing could touch her, but beneath it all, she was just as human as everyone else, just as susceptible to feeling. Just as capable of breaking.

She just didn’t want to be. Her physical response wasn’t something she could disguise—I knew I had her there. But that wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wanted more. Probably more than she was willing or prepared to give. And I might just be setting myself up for a whole fucking world of disappointment.

My heart pummelled my chest as I slid my hands into my pockets and murmured, “Well? What’s it gonna be, Snow Queen?”

She stilled for a few seconds, keeping me hanging on a razor edge, then stepped through the door and turned to lock it behind her.

Striding past me, she muttered, “This isn’t a date, Pretty Boy.”

I lowered my head and dug my teeth into my bottom lip as a smile teased the corners of my mouth. I didn’t fucking care what she called it, as long as she was there. She might not realize it, but just by walking through that door, she was telling me more than she’d ever admitted out loud.

We drove the twenty minutes into central Richmond before I parked and fed the meter. Moonlight spilled onto the scene around us as we approached Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant, and I closed my hand around the handle, pulling it open to let Lissa slip in ahead.

“Such a gentleman, Bradshaw,” she muttered with a raised brow as she eased past me. “Who the fuck would have guessed it?”

I smiled down at her, trailing her to the tall table located just inside the door where we both stopped. A guy with slick-backed hair, wearing black slacks and a

white button down led us through the array of circular tables, each draped with a white cloth, melted wax candles, and menus.

Lissa rounded the table as the server pulled out a seat, and my muscles tensed when I caught his eyes dip briefly to the curves of her ass before she lowered herself down into it. The look of interest in this asshole’s gaze quickly transformed to discomfort when he met my stony glare across the table, and he scurried off with a promise to have someone come take our drinks order.

That’s right, fucker… run before I plant my fucking fist in your face.

Sinking into the padded seat, I worked the tension in my jaw loose, then flipped open the faux-leather-bound menu and glanced up. “Got a challenge for you, Snow Queen.”

Lissa’s head came up with an arched brow, sharp blue eyes twinkling with interest. “I’m listening.”

I smirked, playing with the worn edges of the thick paper. “Think you can get through the next thirty minutes without insulting me?”

She tilted her head. “I’m not sure, Pretty Boy, you make it so damn easy.”

My eyebrow quirked. “You’re already fucking failing.”

A reluctant smile curved her lips before she turned toward a small brunette wearing the same black and white ensemble as the guy who’d ogled Lissa’s ass. The waitress laid a jug of ice water and two glasses on the table between us before snagging a tablet from the belt strapped around her waist and fixing us with an expectant gaze. It took thirty seconds to rattle off our orders, and then I eased back in the chair, meeting Lissa’s curious stare over the fluttering glow of the newly lit candle.