Make Me Yours

My mom’s one attempt to rescue me from the dating apps was a Korean (of course) pediatric surgeon, who interned with my dad in Charleston.

“I haven’t seen you in… a year?” Henry is very nice, very polite. Too bad his ears make me wonder if he can fly.

“You look amazing.” He smiles and touches my elbow. “How’s your mom?”

“Great—she’s doing really great. Still working at the church…” I try to step out of his reach, but the booth blocks me. “I’m having lunch with her tomorrow. I can tell her you said hi. Are you still living in Charleston?”

“For now.” He nods, pointing to my hand. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’ve got her covered.” Remi’s voice is hard, and his arm goes around my waist.

“Oh, hey.” I don’t know why I suddenly feel nervous. “Henry Pak, this is Remington Key.”

I motion between them, but neither makes a move to shake hands.

Okay.

“Henry’s a pediatric surgeon in Charleston.”

Henry adopts a proprietary tone. “We dated a few times last year.”

“Just like… one or two times. Right?” I’m doing my best to salvage this. Thankfully, I’m saved by the DJ calling Remi’s name. It’s not a busy night at the Red Cat.

Glancing up, I see his jaw is clenched. The guys are staring each other down, and I consider waving a white napkin between them. Instead, I speak close to his ear.

“Remi, you’re up. Are you still singing ‘The Gambler’ for me?”

It breaks the staring match, and his eyes flicker to mine. “Yes.” He’s not smiling, but he kisses my cheek. “Be right back.”

The whole house is dark, and it’s after midnight when we get home.

“We should’ve asked Eleanor to take Lillie to preschool.” Remi whispers, leading me across the grand foyer to the stairs.

He’s been slightly distant ever since our encounter with Henry. Still, he brought the house down with “The Gambler.” Dagwood was right—everybody sang along, but Remi’s smooth voice sealed the deal.

We’re holding hands as he leads me past the second floor up to my suite. “You don’t have to walk me to my room.”

Butterflies are beating their wings like crazy in my stomach, and my throat is tight. I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. I really want him to.

He stops in front of my door and faces me. “It’s the closest I can get to taking you home, seeing as you live here.”

I can’t stand his formal manner after we had so much fun tonight.

Putting my hand on his chest, I clear my throat, choosing my words. “You know, I had a life before I met you.”

“Eleanor mentioned you dated some.” His expression is stony, and I don’t like knowing Eleanor is talking about me to him.

Still, I own my past. “I dated a lot. Henry was one of the many fish I threw back.”

“I don’t like thinking of you out there.”

“I’m here now.” My voice is quiet, soothing.

His is not. “Yes, you are.”

Reaching up, he cups my cheeks in his strong hands, and his mouth covers mine, pushing my lips apart and plunging in his tongue. It’s insistent, demanding. My back is pressed to the door, and he kisses me as if he’s claiming what’s his. It’s fucking hot as hell, and I feel the heat all the way to my panties.

A little whimper escapes my throat, and it’s like fuel to the fire. His hands go to my waist, ripping my silk blouse out of my skirt.