Tell Me It's Real (At First Sight 1)

He shook his head. “Why would I bet them? I knew I was going to when I first saw you. I don’t need anybody trying to bet me about it. I would have done it regardless. I’m doing it now.”

“But Darren….”

“You know Darren?”

“I know of him.”

“He’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, if you like bitchy barracudas with ridiculous egos.”

“What’s that?”

“What?”

“Barracudas.”

“An evil fish with big teeth that eats your face off.”

“Oh. So do you want to go to dinner with me?”

I took a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Was he a little upset by that, or was it my imagination? “Why not?”

“I’m not…. You’re…. Look, it just wouldn’t work out, okay? You seem like a sweet”—and oh so fine and nice and funny and I want to have a hard-core bone sesh with you and live forever in our Dream Castle—“guy, but you’re not really my type.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m everyone’s type,” he said. He winked and flexed his arms a bit.

My mouth went dry, but it was suddenly easier to take another step away. “And that’s the problem,” I told him quietly. “I have to get back to work.” I started to walk away, only to be stopped by a hand gripping my arm. I turned to find him watching me intently.

“You may as well just give up now,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to go on a date with me. It’s just easier if you say yes now.”

“Cocky fucking bastard.”

“Nah, I just see that you want to, but for some reason you’re saying no.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to. You ever think of that?” I was such a liar.

He shrugged. “Maybe. But you do. And you will.” And then, before I could stop him, he pulled me forward into a tight hug, my chin pressed against his shoulder, his lips near my ear. It was so unfair how fucking good he smelled. My stomach flip-flopped a little as he whispered in my ear. “You may as well just say yes. I saved your life, and that means you belong to me now. I’m totally going to Freddie Prinze Junior you so hard later.” Then he let me go and walked toward the door.

“That’s not what that means!” I shouted after him, causing people to stare at me like I was the ridiculous one. “You don’t get to make it sound dirty and hot!”

He didn’t even look back.

Chapter 5

Bicycles Are For Tree-Hugging Hippie Heterosexuals

“YOU said what?” Sandy asked me furiously when I returned from lunch.

Shit. I hadn’t meant to say a damn thing. “I said no.”

He looked at me like I was the stupidest person alive, which, to be fair, I probably was. I’d turned and run out of the restaurant with my tail between my legs, trying to protect my fragile ego.