Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

But I wanted to talk to Elijah first.

Now it appears I’ve made a big old mess of things.

I mean, of course I’m interested in making her come. Of course I’ll make up for Khaki Pants Dickhead’s less than stellar performance in the bedroom.

But is that really all she wants from me?

Don’t get me wrong, I also want to hike this dress up around her hips and spread her legs and bury myself inside her. Right now. Tonight. All day tomorrow.

I just want more than that, too. More than sex.

But she clearly doesn’t.

The pieces click together in my head, one at a time, faster and faster until they form a coherent whole. Maybe this is why Eli reacted the way he did. Gracie wanting some dick—and only dick—makes sense. Girl clearly just got chewed up and spit out by yet another shit bag. This is what she meant when she talked about things not going to plan. She’s looked for love, and she’s gotten burned.

Maybe she got burned one time too many. Maybe now she just wants a good time and a good lay. No chance of her being hurt or disappointed again.

And she knows just the man for the job.

Me.

I feel horny.

I feel hurt.

I can’t tell which of the two is winning.

“So you wanna fuck me,” I say. There are people around—this is a touristy spot in town, people are always around—but I don’t care.

Gracie’s smile, leftover from her laugh, fades.

Guess it’s the hurt that’s winning then. No hiding that.

“Oh,” she says, putting a hand on her face. “Oh, my God, I did offend you. Shit. Luke, I am really sorry. I’m so embarrassed. You’re more than just a—just that to me.”

“I know.” On some level, I know I mean something to Gracie. We’ve been friends forever.

But maybe she means more to me than I do to her.

The thought makes my chest feel heavy.

“I just thought—the way you talked about intensity the other night—I mean, you haven’t brought a girl around in ages—the way people around town talk—and you said point blank you don’t do serious—” She takes a breath. Lets it out as she drops her hand. “Clearly you aren’t looking for anything other than sex.”

I look at her. Still can’t see her eyes.

Fuck these glasses.

Using both hands, I reach down and gently guide them onto her head. They’ve left small, purplish-red indentations beside her eyes. Right where they meet with her nose.

Her breath hitches.

The sun catches on her pupils, turning them to whiskey. It hits my blood and makes my dick roar.

And the heaviness in my chest—it fucking aches at the hurt in her gaze. She wounded me. But she’s been wounded, too.

How do I make her see I would never hurt her that way?

How do I convince her to take another leap when she’s feeling so discouraged?

Sliding my hand onto her face, I somehow manage a smile. ’Cause if I don’t smile, I just might do something stupid. Like lean in and kiss the shit outta her.

I can’t do that.

Not yet.

“I’m being a total ass,” she replies, blinking. “Luke, I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “You’re not an ass. You’re right. I did say I wasn’t looking for anything serious. For a long time, I wasn’t. Truly. My life was too crazy. Future too uncertain. But now that I got my ducks in a row, I would consider something more permanent.” I search her eyes. My heart thumps. “I would consider it with you, Gracie girl.”

Her brown eyes go wide. The sinews of her throat move against the pads of my ring and pinkie fingers as she swallows.

“You’d want more? With me? But you said you didn’t do that kind of thing. The more. So why’d you say that if you actually do?”

I let out a breath. “Because. The other night, I was just tryin’ to protect you. I didn’t realize you’d broken up with your ex until you told me at the end of our conversation. Eli said you’d told him Nick could be your forever guy, and I didn’t want to fuck with your head. So I kind of leaned into my reputation as a player so you wouldn’t…you know, look twice at me or whatever.”

Her brows come together, curving upward. “You really are very sweet, Luke. Although I still looked twice.” Her eyes flick down my body. Back up. “More than that. Way, way more.”

I scoff. “I was tryin’ not to notice.”

“I still can’t believe you want serious. With me of all people.”

“Why so surprised?”

“Because I’m me! And you’re…you.” Her eyes flick over my body again.

I smile smugly. “C’mon, Grace, don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart as hell. Fuckin’ gorgeous. So damn quick you’re forever keepin’ me on my toes. I been crushing on you for an age.”

She stares at me in disbelief.

“But I’m the one with a crush on you,” she says. “Not just any crush. A raging crush.”