Fall to You (Here and Now 2)

“Hmm… Prove it.”

I raise a brow. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” More laughter, and I feel like a small piece of me—one that once felt irrevocably hardened by this week from hell—warms and softens.

“What if I don’t have a Hulk tattoo?” She takes another sip of her drink. She might be flirting, but she’s still firmly planted at the bar, no real interest in finding that coatroom with me. Damn.

“That’s disappointing.”

“I bet. But good for you for showing your true colors. So many guys just try to be what they think women want.”

“How do you know that’s not what I’m doing? Haven’t you seen Big Bang Theory? Nerds are all the rage right now.”

She studies me for a beat. “Batman or Superman?”

“What’s the metric? Basic coolness? Batman. Ability to kick the most ass and save humankind? Superman.”

She snorts. “Best Doctor?”

Curves like that and she knows Doctor Who? I’m fucking toast. When she raises an eyebrow expectantly, I realize I haven’t answered. “Well, I would say Peter Davison, but a more serious dork might say Sylvester McCoy.”

“You’re definitely not faking it.” Her smile falls away and she swallows hard. “I needed this. Thanks.”

“Needed what?”

She shrugs and her tongue darts out to moisten her bottom lip. “To smile. To feel…like some random guy—nerd or not—might be attracted to me.”

“You find that coatroom you suggested and I promise to take the might right out of that thought.”

She bows her head and studies her drink. Her cheeks blaze pink. So sweet. Damn.

My phone buzzes, and I know without looking that it’s time to go meet Asher and warm up for our performance tonight. As much as I’d like to stay and flirt with this beauty, I owe too much to Asher to screw this up.

“I have to go,” I say reluctantly. “Duty calls.”

“Comic book convention?”

“Something like that. Have a nice night.” Then I walk away because I don’t have any tomorrows or promises to offer.

But damn if this sweet tooth isn’t nagging at me.

WE COLLAPSE onto the couch, breathing hard, sweating like fools.

“On second thought,” Wi

ll grumbles, “this couch is a piece of shit and we definitely shouldn’t bother moving it.”

I push off the couch in question and every muscle screams. “I’ll go grab the beer.”

“I can’t believe you sold your house,” Will says.

I open up the little fridge, pull out two beers, and twist off the caps. “Grandma would understand.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “You’ll tell me if you need more, right? Because I can help.”

“I’ll make it work. I have some contingencies lined up.”

Will downs half his beer in one gulp before leaning his head back into the cushions. “Next time, I’m just giving you the cash to hire movers,” he mutters.

“And deprive me the view?” Cally calls from the door. “I watched you muscle that monster up those stairs. Sexiest thing I’ve seen all day.”