My brows draw together in confusion. “You are what?”
“Better,” he confidently and arrogantly states.
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Tone the cockiness down. I didn’t mean to say that. I just meant?—”
“I know what you meant, and I know my abilities.”
“Right,” I drawl.
“I’m more than welcome to show you.”
I almost falter in my step. “Th-that’s not necessary.”
For some weird reason I do believe that he’d be better, but I’m not going to say that out loud. And I don’t want to keep engaging in this conversation, not because it’s making me uncomfortable, but because I’m afraid of what I’ll say.
The alcohol is still buzzing in my system, and my inhibitions are at an all-time low. The words,well show mecould easily slip out of my mouth.
“I’m kidding.” He softly elbows my arm, amusement dripping from his tone. “Don’t take me seriously.”
Of course he is. He’s Daniel Garcia, the guy who’s got his life together. Why would he want to sleep with me? I’m a fucking train wreck.
15
JOSIE
“Are you okay?”Daniel asks as he pulls into my driveway and parks my bike.
Once I can, I step off the pegs and grab my knife and keys from the basket. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a tiny cut.”
I didn’t think as I stabbed into his first tire angrily, but that was a stupid move. Once the knife punctured the rubber, air blasted out rapidly and I nicked my finger. The cut was tiny and drew a little blood, but you would’ve thought I was massively bleeding by the way Daniel reacted. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a little endearing.
It didn’t take long for me to figure out the best way to slash his tires and not cut myself. I was done in less than ten minutes while Daniel stood there and watched over me like a bodyguard. He also said encouraging, affirmative words that oddly stirred something in me. The effect was extremely rewarding. I felt invigorated and validated. Sure, slashing tires isn’t the mature thing to do. I could’ve handled my anger differently, but I didn’t, and Daniel didn’t stop me either.
“The movies make it look easy.” He stands in front of me and carefully grabs my hand so casually, I don’t move. He raises myhand, inspecting my fingers, and I hold my breath. I don’t know why but I do. “Do you want the good or bad news first?”
I muffle my chuckle, confused by his question. “The bad?”
He delicately turns my hand every which way, inspecting my finger from every possible angle. “The bad news is that you won’t be able to cut limes or lemons for a little bit. And I hope you have Band-Aids because you’ll have to wear one. For a day or two, give or take.”
The corner of my mouth jerks up and in a flash his eyes gravitate to my lips, but he still keeps my hand in the air.
“And the good?”
“Um…” His eyes lift back up to mine and they stay there. “You get to keep all your fingers.”
An avalanche of butterflies breaks loose. Maybe it’s the flutters, the hold he has on my eyes and hand, or the link I have with him, but for the first time in a long time, both corners of my lips lift.
I’m not sure I can categorize it as a smile. I’m sure most people wouldn’t call it that, but I’m going with it.
His gaze immediately locks in on my lips and either he pulls me forward or I shift, I’m not sure which, but I’m closer to him than I was. I should pull away, break the trance that I seem to be in, but I can’t.
“That’s good to hear. I don’t know what or who I’d be without my finger.”
“You’d still be you and that’s all that matters,” he softly says.
Don’t stab yourself. Don’t stab yourself,I repeat because my heart is racing crazily fast.
I’m thankful for the cool breeze that sweeps by us because I shiver. It had nothing to do with the air, but everything to do with the guy who’s set my heart aflame.
