“I was nineteen when I dated Jack, my ex. That’s it. Well, I've gone on a few—two—blind dates and they were bad.” The way she said the last led me to believe they'd turned her off dating entirely. “It's safe to say I haven't really dated in this century.”
Holy shit. How long it been then? No guy had claimed her since her divorce? Jesus, what was wrong with the guys in this city? Hopefully their fuck up was my gain.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with a guy, so I’m probably going to mess up a lot. I’m giving you advanced warning, but you probably already knew that from the other night.”
She wasn’t a virgin, but she might as well have been, because she was so damn innocent, so…sweet that it was fucking incredible. She wasn’t playing games because she didn’t even know how. That meant it was my job to put her at ease and make her feel safe in her time with me. Safe just to be Emory and nothing else. No guile, no angles.
I gave a small head shake. “You aren’t supposed to do anything except sit there, looking so damn pretty, and talk to me. Okay?” The light switched to green and I shifted into gear. “How about you tell me about your job.”
She looked at me for a long moment, then leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed. “I’m a nurse practitioner. I work in the ER at University Hospital.”
“Impressive. That must be pretty intense.”
“I just started in the ER in the spring after working in hospital administration for years. It had a better schedule for dealing with a high schooler. I’d rather be hands on though with patients, so the ER is definitely the place to be now that he’s away at school.”
“Baltimore’s a rough city. I’m sure you’ve seen some bad stuff.” I paused, drummed my fingers on the wheel, thinking of the shit she saw on a daily basis. The shootings, the crackheads, the wife beaters. “That’s why you wouldn’t drink the water I gave you.”
“See, I’m not actually that crazy. I’m just experienced.” She covered her face with her hands, groaned. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I said that.”
I grinned at her slip. She was so damn sweet. “That’s good to know.”
She laughed off her mistake. “I’ve just learned a lot, the hard way.”
And that made her wise. Knowledgeable about life. It gave her so much more than all the groupies I’d ever met. Emory had lived, survived and still was so fucking innocent in so many ways. The thought that a guy like me might touch her and tarnish her, to wear that innocence away had me downshifting and us snapping against our seat belts around a turn.
It wasn’t just her sweetness that I was drawn to. Her ponytail whipped around from the breeze as I drove the ten minutes to my building and the scent of her shampoo—it was fucking coconut—was driving me insane. It was hard to keep my eye on the road when her toned thighs were on display. Thank God for shorts. The thoughts I had were anything but sweet.
“Simon seems nice,” I said, trying to make conversation when all I wanted to do was pull the car over, unclick her seat belt and pull her onto my lap.
“He’s lived next door a few years now and has been a good friend. Plus, he comes in very handy. He picked out the shoes I wore the other night.”
I glanced down her legs again. This time her words allowed me the chance.
“The heels?” I remembered those shoes well and spent Friday night thinking about them. The simple flip-flops she wore now were pretty sexy, too, with those bright, shiny nails. Hell, she’d probably be sexy if she wore a burlap sack. “I need to thank him.”
She turned her head and glanced at me, but couldn’t read her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Oh?”
“Those shoes looked damn hot and he came to the game with you. More importantly, he left you alone with me. That makes him a great wingman.”
Her mouth opened and then she snapped it shut. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.” She ran her palms over her shorts. Nerves? “I brought him because I wanted to be—”
“Safe.” I finished for her, keeping my eyes on the road. “I get it. Really. If I’d turned out to be a psycho, you’d have him to get you out of there. Shows you’re really smart and I like that.”
“You think I’ve ruled you out as being psycho?” She tilted her head to look at me. Ah, she had sass, too.
I shifted my eyes from the road. “You got in the car, didn’t you?”
She didn’t respond as I pulled into the parking lot of my building. It was brick, modern and three stories. The ground floor was a combination of my gym and other businesses. There were two floors of apartments above. I’d bought it a few years ago as an investment when I set up my gym and had the top floor retrofitted into just one apartment for me. Living above the gym made life simple.
Hopping out of the car, I dashed around before she could open the door for herself. I really wanted one more glance at her legs and the hint of cleavage that her tank top exposed before she climbed out. I was a gentleman, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t look.
“This is my gym.” I pointed to the entrance. “My apartment’s upstairs. Would you feel more comfortable if I showered in the gym, or would you be okay coming up to my apartment?”
She glanced up at the building, then at me. “Oh.” Taking her sunglasses off, she frowned. I could finally see her dark eyes. A chocolate brown several shades lighter than my own. She wore a hint of makeup, nothing like Friday night, and she looked like the girl next door. I couldn’t decide which look I liked better. Fortunately, I didn’t have to
decide. Both did it for me.
“God, Gray, I owe you an apology. You’ve been nothing but nice and I’ve been…cautious and that has made you out to look like a…a…creep.” She reached her hand out to touch me, but must have thought twice about the action and let her hand drop. “There’s wary and then there’s rude. I’m sorry. Your apartment’s fine. I won’t run away screaming. I promise.”