She taps her finger against her lips, pretending to think. “Twenty-eight.”
“Close.” I grin and pause for a beat or two, not sure what lies ahead once I let the proverbial genie out of the bottle. “Thirty.”
Her brows lift. “Really?”
Something shifts in her gaze, but I can’t tell if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“Say yes to dinner.”
A pause. Then…“Okay.” She smiles softly. “Tomorrow night.”
She rises up on her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek, quick but searing.
I don’t get the chance to respond. She’s gone, the elevators doors sealing shut on the words I never said. The lobby falls silent, her scent hanging in the air, my pulse still chasing hers.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m in trouble.
Real trouble.
Only this time, I’m not looking for a way out.
8
OLIVIA
The mauve lipstick glides smoothly over my mouth and I press my lips together, making a small kissing sound. Sin’s perched on the tub watching my every move like a cat who knows the ending but won’t spoil it.
“You look great, Liv.” She adjusts herself on the ledge. “So, you like this guy?”
My phone buzzes across the counter. Pete. Again. I slide the lipstick closed and hitignore. He’s relentless, calling all the time, even when I was out with Sam yesterday.
Sin arches a knowing brow. “He’s calling again?”
“Yes.” I exhale sharply. “And yes, I like Sam. He’s charming and sweet, but this can’t go anywhere, so stop looking at me like that.”
“How am I looking at you?” She bats her eyelashes, feigning innocence, and follows me into the bedroom.
“Like you think I’m looking forward to tonight.”
She laughs. “You’re not?”
“It’s just dinner.” I have stressed this point far too many times today.
“Seriously?” Erin pipes up from the bed where she’s lounging. “Dinner with a man who makes you smile every time his name comes up. You’re hung up on the younger man thing. Liv, please. Who cares how old he is? He obviously likes you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have asked you out—not once, but twice.” She holds up two fingers with a scowl.
Yes, he’s twelve years younger. Still, when he said thirty, it didn’t sound so impossible. Amazing what changing that two to a three can do.
Then Erin bounces on the bed to get my attention. “Just throw the guy a bone. Or better yet, bone the guy.”
Both she and Sin dissolve into laughter, barely pulling it together when a knock sounds at the door. Erin’s eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Please tell me you didn’t?—”
Sam and I are supposed to meet in the lobby. But, there’s no doubt by the way my friends are acting, it’s him on the other side of the door. And Erin’s behind it. I don’t know how, unless she got his number from my phone. My heart trips over itself, surprise and anticipation colliding.
Erin hustles to the door, flinging it open to reveal Sam, leaning casually against the door frame. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. Those perfectly sculpted forearms I’ve spent far too much time thinking about.
The other night, I caught a glimpse of ink when he was slipping on his chef’s jacket. Now, I can see it clearly.
