Never Got Over You

Ugh! I unlocked my door and pushed it open.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” His face reddened. “If you get out of this car, I swear to God, I’m pulling off and I’m not looking back.”

“I’m counting on it.” I unfastened my seatbelt and stepped out, my purse and crown in tow. Before I could grab my jacket off the floor, Grant sped off with the door hanging wide open.

“Call me when you come to your senses, Kate!”

Letting out a frustrated scream, I ignored the honking cars from behind me and moved to the emergency lane. I walked the rest of the way to the fair, my heels throbbing with the pain from my stilettos.

I made my way to the Miss Edgewood stage, avoiding eye contact with the ballroom-clad contestants. I found the host and immediately handed her the crown.

“Um, you’re supposed to hand this to the next winner after she’s announced.” She smiled at me. “I know you’ve won this for the past few years in a row, and we’re going to sorely miss your cello playing tonight, but that’s typically how this thing works.”

“I’m not feeling well.” I lied. “I don’t want to take away any attention from the winner if I throw up or something.”

“Oh! Well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” She smiled. “I’ll have someone do it in your honor, then. Would you like me to make someone grab you a Sprite and crackers while you watch backstage?”

“That’s okay. Thank you.” I walked away before she could say anything else or convince me to stay. I wanted to be as far away from the crown and Grant as possible.

I moved through the crowds and headed for the Ferris Wheel.

Taking my place in line, I pulled out my phone and logged into Facebook. As I was stalking the saga of my ex best friend again, I heard a familiar, deep voice from behind.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re stalking me…”

I turned around and found myself face to face with James. Wearing dark blue jeans and a white shirt with a black leather jacket, he was covering his inked and muscled arms. Smiling his set of pearly whites, his green eyes briefly took my breath away.

“Hi…” was the only word I could manage.

“Hi.” He stepped closer, and I inhaled the sexy scent of his cologne. “You know, I’m not sure if this relationship is ever going to work if you keep lying to me. First, you lie about your name and who you are, and now I catch you in a lie about not being obsessed with Facebook. Not to mention, you let our first night end without giving me your phone number.”

I remained speechless. I was still lost in his eyes.

“I’m starting to believe—Well, almost believe that you’re not interested in me.”

“And if I say that I’m not?”

“Then that’d be your third lie.” His smile widened. “I’m up for playing that game, though. Are you not interested in me, Kate Kensington?”

“I am,” I admitted. “But deep down, I know there are several reasons why I shouldn’t be.”

“Okay.” He closed the gap between us, temporarily rendering me speechless. “Give me the top three.”

“Well, reason number three—” I tried not to stare too hard at his lips. “You live over three hours away.”

“Two and a half.” He corrected me. “Two if I go over the speed limit, and I always go over the speed limit.”

“It’d never be equal. I’m not the best at driving, so I would never be able to drive to see you.”

“Noted. Next reason.”

“I can’t easily read you. I’m not sure if you’re actually interested in getting to know me or if you’re just trying to fuck.”

“It’s both.” He stepped forward in the line, gently pulling me with him. “What’s reason number one?”

“I don’t trust myself around you.” The words rushed out of my mouth before I could think them through. “You’re too damn attractive. I think it’s your eyes.”

His lips curved into a smile and he laughed. “Would you like me to apologize for being ‘too attractive’ then?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Maybe try that and see if that helps me.”

“I will.” He laughed again. “But only if you apologize for being the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

I felt my cheeks heating, and I completely lost my train of thought.

“Or,” he said, saving me, “We can just call it even and start over. This time, let’s not forget the phone numbers.”

I nodded and extended my hand. “I’m Kate Kensington.”

“James Garrett.” His hand was calloused yet smooth—slightly rougher than any of the men I’d ever met, but his touch sent an immediate jolt through my entire body.

As if he could read my mind, he let go of my hand and showed his palms. “I work on restoring cars and boats all day. It takes a toll sometimes.”