Then, like a fool, I’d looked up the café on my phone.
Brilliant, right?
Taking the pussy’s way out. The whole time I’d been muttering a million warnings under my breath. None of which had been heeded. I’d just gone right on ahead and pressed send.
Guessed maybe my subconscious had gone for the call since I couldn’t take another rejection delivered to my face.
This girl had shot me down at every turn, and each time, I got up for another round. Something feeling like maybe she needed me to fight for her.
Like I said.
Pathetic.
Guts in knots, I read the message.
Hope: Sorry, I got hung up. I’m on my way. Be there in five.
I breathed out in relief.
I’d been doing my best not to lose my cool where I stood outside the chic restaurant on the sidewalk on Macaber. The street was all lit up on a Friday night, people coming and going, their laughter rippling through the warm Alabama air.
Waiting.
She’d insisted on taking an Uber and meeting me here. That this was just dinner. Nothing more.
Ironic.
Considering all I wanted was more.
I tapped out a quick reply.
Me: No worries. I just got here.
What bullshit. I’d been here for fifteen minutes.
This girl had me feeling outside myself.
Interested and intrigued.
Wanting to fist my hands in that lush, red hair, sure it’d be as soft as it looked.
Wondering if she tasted like strawberries and cream and all things sweet, the way I’d put down bets that she did.
Shortcake.
Couldn’t help but imagine her in the shadows of my room. Wild. That sexy modesty evaporated as she begged my name.
The craziest part was I thought I might just settle for seeing that shy smile light her face.
I drove all my fingers into my hair.
Fuck.
She really had gotten under my skin.
Five minutes later, a black car pulled to the curb. I didn’t know what it was, but the way my heart thundered and boomed, sped with an unsteady beat, told me it was her before the car came to a full stop.
I pasted on a confident smile, strolled that way with a hand in my pocket, and opened the back door to help her out.
I dipped down, and I swore my thundering heart came to a full stop in my chest.
On all things holy.
What the hell did she think she was doing to me?
My head spun with a rush of uncontained lust.
Fast and hot and hard.
Sloshing through my blood like an out-of-control demand.
Those knots in my stomach notched tighter, a constricting band around my chest, the easy air suddenly thick.
Heady.
Rippling with need.
That dress.
She was wearing this black dress that was super short, the backseat full of nothing but silky, toned legs. My throat went dry when I noticed the pair of black heels wrapped around her ankles.
So damned high.
So fucking hot.
Who was this girl? Because she was peeking out at me, biting back a smile that danced between shy and seductive when I reached down and offered her my hand.
A streak of lightning bolted up my arm when she accepted it.
Motherfucker.
What was happening to me?
She shifted to slide out, that fall of red cascading down around one shoulder.
I somehow managed to shoot her a grin as I tugged her toward me.
She stumbled to a stop two inches away. A gush of surprise heaved from her lungs, our bodies close to touching, the space between crackling, no doubt two seconds from catching fire.
Clearly, she wasn’t anticipating me being so forward.
But if this was the only night she was giving me, I was going to make it count.
Those green eyes blinked up at me. I swore they were the same color as the moss that lined the bank of the river, deep and brimming with life.
“Hi,” I told her, a smirk flitting across my mouth.
“Hi,” she whispered back between her plush lips that were coated in only shiny gloss. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
For a beat, she took in our surroundings as if she was looking for someone, but then she finally turned back to face me. Her expression now held something that almost looked like worry or fear that threatened to break loose. She beat it back—buried it—and smiled at me in a way that moved through me like warmth.
“I really am sorry I’m late,” she said again.
I kept her fingertips threaded with mine, unwilling to give up the connection, having the urge to tell her to trust me. That whatever the fuck was going on, she could trust me.
But I didn’t know how to make that promise, so I tucked it all down and focused on the kind of night I had promised her.
One that was only about her. Making her feel good.
“It’s fine.” I arched a brow, sending her a look that told her how bad I was dying to eat her up. “Though, I thought I was going to have to track you down because you were going to bail on me. I don’t think my fragile ego could take it.”