The Player Next Door

“From someone other than yourself?”

“I don’t do that on dates.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Not anymore,” he amends, grinning sheepishly.

I step across the threshold, expecting Shane to follow. But when I turn back, I find him leaning against the door frame, his feet still firmly planted outside. “You’re coming in, right?”

Into my house.

Into my bed.

Into me.

He shakes his head. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?” Worry ignites inside me. He’s not working until Thursday morning. Did he not enjoy himself? Has he changed his mind about us? Did he realize that what he found attractive about me at seventeen, he’s annoyed with now?

He must see the concern on my face because the smile he answers with is soft, reassuring. “Like I said, I want to take this slow.”

I toss my purse on the small entry table and wander back, letting my body brush against his. I tip my head back so I can peer up at those full, plump lips and stunning eyes. They’re molten. He wants to come in, I can see that much. If I palmed him, I’m sure I’d be treated to an impressive erection.

“I feel like we’re doing things backward.” Saturday, he would have fucked me had Cody not called. Tonight, he’s signing off for the night after some heavy petting.

Will I be relegated to hand-holding and cold showers by the weekend?

His gaze searches my face. “I had a great time tonight.”

“So did I.” And I’m not ready to say good night yet. “You should come in for at least a drink.”

“It won’t be just a drink and we both know that.”

“You can’t keep it in your pants for one glass of wine?” I taunt.

He inhales, as if he’s considering it, and I hold my breath.

When he sighs and shakes his head, my discontent flares.

But the ache in my body for him is deep enough that I’m not ready to give up yet. “I picked up cookies from that bakery in town. They’re really good with milk.”

His eyebrow arches. “You’re trying to lure me in for sex using milk and cookies? That’s a first for me.”

“That is not what I’m doing! I can’t believe you would suggest such a thing,” I scoff, feigning insult. “If I were trying to lure you in for sex, I’d mention that I also have a can of whipped cream that I’d enjoy licking off your—”

He seizes the back of my head and pulls my mouth into his in a kiss that is not sweet or soft or slow like earlier tonight. This one is hard and demanding, our lips smashing together, our tongues tangling, our teeth bumping, his fingers pushing through my hair to gather a grip. This is the Shane I remember from high school—unrestrained and vibrating with raw, male need.

My knees buckle with a deep, guttural moan as I mold my body to his, reveling in the hard ridge pressed against my stomach.

He pulls back abruptly and takes a moment to collect his ragged breaths. “We’ll spend an entire night licking things off each other’s bodies soon enough.” The promise is delivered in a coarse voice. It stirs a mental image of his face between my thighs, which sends a shiver skittering through my core. “But I need you to know I’m not the kind of guy you think I am. That we’re not all like your father, or Penelope’s father, or any of the other shitty men you’ve met who don’t know how to respect women.”

“I don’t think that about you,” I answer honestly. Not anymore.

“Even still.” He smooths my mussed hair back off my face. “You’re my neighbor and Cody’s teacher and …” His voice drifts, as if there’s more to the list of our complications but he doesn’t want to bring them up. “Sex tends to make things move faster. Given our situation and your job … we need to take things slow. I’m not letting anything or anyone screw this up with you again. Including me.” He leans in to steal a tender kiss that ends in his soft groan before he peels away. He moves down my porch steps, as if needing to put distance between us. “I’ve got Cody tomorrow night and then I’m working Thursday. I’ll call you on Friday?”

I stare pointedly at his jeans, at the noticeable bulge pressing against his zipper. It makes me smile. “I suppose.”

He shakes his head. “I’m good for more than just that, you know.”

I’d be worried that Shane might actually be offended about being objectified if he weren’t grinning proudly. “Well, of course. You can also fix things around my house.”

The grin grows wider. “We’ll get you a new fire extinguisher Friday night,” he promises as he walks away.

My chest aches as I watch him go. It’s not just my body that wants him to stay, and it’s certainly not just his body that I crave. I feel electrified whenever he’s in the room, flashing his dimpled smiles and making me laugh. It’s as if I’ve found something important that was lost to me. I suppose I have.