He looks up from whatever he’s doing on his phone to my hand, then looks over at Mac’s hand, which is still sorta hanging there. Jesus, her arms are all veins and tattoos. I wanna lick ’em.
Realizing I might be staring at her arms, I slowly shift my gaze up to hers. The bemused raise of her eyebrow is…wow. The thick shock of white along her hairline fades into a gorgeous salty ash brown, and my fingers twitch with the desire to sink into her luxurious strands.
“Uh, Kinley?” she asks, flicking her eyes to her still-suspended hand.
Finally—finally—I shake myself out of this idiotic stupor.
“Welp, if there’s a way to make any situation awkward, I’m your gal,” I finally spit out, belatedly shifting my hand to hers.
“I may have you beat on that,” she says, wiggling her boot before grabbing my hand in a firm but sexy handshake.
Wait. Are handshakes sexy? Also, why is there no oxygen in this room? I blink, suddenly super-aware of my eyelashes.
I’m clearly going to fritz out a bit longer, so she continues, “Also, it’s hard to know how tall or short I am if you’ve only ever seen me on TV or on your phone.”
In a moment that will absolutely make me cringe for the next fifty years, I decide to be truthful, with gestures.
“That’s the thing! Until tonight, I’d never heard a single song of yours. The only reason I’m even here is that a friend cracked a bunch of ribs, so I got her tickets.”
Mac chuckles, massaging a thumb into her temple. “You really didn’t know about me before tonight?”
Seriously, why is the angle of her arm so sexy? Is it the tight, old-school Joan Jett T-shirt? Is it the black leather wristwatch?
Blinking, I realize she’s asked a question and is waiting for a response. Something about not being familiar with her…
“Oh, I couldn’t have picked you out in a lineup. I gotta say, though…I’m impressed. You played like seventeen instruments, and according to the website that I totally wasn’t looking at when you came in, you write all your songs. You’resotalented.”
She runs a talented finger along her lower lip. “That’s awfully kind of you to say.” Gesturing at her booted foot, she asks, “Do you mind if we sit? My ankle is starting to throb.”
I bring my hands to my face. “Talk about embarrassing. I’m a physician’s assistant and should have insisted on that from the beginning. Please, yes, let’s sit.”
Her flinty chuckle is electrifying every inch of my skin. Worse, I didn’t wear my lined bra tonight, so my nipples are just out here, telling the whole world they’d like to see what thattalentedmouth can do.
Thirsty much, Kin?
I look over at her assistant. I assume his job, aside from keeping Mac on time, is to ensure weirdos don’t try anything with her. He’s maybe five foot two, but I wouldn’t put anything past him. He must’ve decided I’m the harmless kind of awkward and has wandered off to the corner, ignoring us.
The couch in this little space is more like a love seat, and once Mac sits and gets comfortable, there’s not a lot of room left. Rubbing her eyebrow, she tilts her head, smiling at me.
Biting her lip, I think she’s aiming for apologetic, but the twinkle in her eye is decidedlyun-sorry. “Hope you don’t mind a tight fit.”
Yeah…that’s…she’s flirting with me.
Alrighta.
I squeeze in, tucking one leg under me as I grin at her. “I don’t mind one bit.”
God, that amused chuckle of hers is gonna have me straddling her lap in no time.
“So, Kinley. You’re a physician’s assistant? That’s, like, halfway between a nurse and a doctor, right?”
I nod. “More or less. I work for the local OBGYN.”
She squeezes the back of her neck. “Must be interesting work.”
I almost go with the truth—that it’s burning me out and I’m worried about my future—but she doesn’t need my little story.
“Very. Busy too. We had three deliveries today. All healthy, thankfully.”
