“Hey, Jasalie.”
I scream when I turn and notice Dylan standing two inches from me. Without thinking about it, my hands are up in a quick thrust to put distance between us and I’m shouting, “Back off!”
Dylan jumps about a foot backward. “Hey. What the heck—”
Bill looks over at me menacingly from where he’s talking to the owner of the Cougars.
I swallow and regain my sanity. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. I just…you scared the crap out of me.”
“Wow.” Dylan fights a smile. “Are you always on this high alert?”
“I told you I lived on the streets for a short time.”
Why do I keep circling back to that?
“What streets?”
“L.A.,” I say. “It wasn’t for that long, really.”
Six months isn’t long in the scheme of things although it felt like six decades.
“Where was your family?” he persists.
“Question hour is now over.” I reach up and put my finger to his lips.
“Sorry.” He reaches up to his mouth and takes my hand in his. “You look gorgeous.”
My cheeks go hot. I packed this dress on a last-minute whim. I bought it three years ago with my friend Bella, who insisted we each needed to “buy something sexy” as an act of self-acceptance. Well, Bella’s moved back to Maine now, and this dress has sat in my closet ever since it was purchased, but I tossed it into my suitcase for this trip. Kind of like how I tossed in the condoms—hopeful but not really serious. The plunging neckline shows far more skin than I’m comfortable with, and the cream color and sleeveless arms add to my feeling of vulnerability. Even my back is partially exposed.
I look up and meet Dylan’s heated gaze on my body.Shoot.I really need to stop trying so hard to dress up for him.
“Thanks.” I cross my arms over my chest and let myself peruse him. His charcoal suit looks like it cost a million dollars. “Very classy suit. I think I’ve only seen ones like it on television.”
“This is for you.” He grins and bows.
I turn away to hide my smile. All I can think about is this afternoon in his room. His hands on my writhing body, my mouth on his shirt, my moans as I—
“Jasalie.” The word comes out of his mouth gruffly. “Look. About earlier—”
“No need to explain or feel like you have to coddle me,” I say. “You and I made that no strings pact together, and I’m still fully on board. But I need to get back to work,” I say over my shoulder. “So I’ll see you later on.”
I hurry off as fast as I can and go straight to the bathroom. Once I get into a stall and lock the door, I lean my head against the metal wall and exhale deeply.
* * *
I spend the next two hours running around the bar and offering to do whatever Bill needs done. As usual, he’s got plenty of requests, from faxing a last-minute receipt to the office to making late-night dinner reservations for him and his new lover downtown. I do all of it with a smile, anything to avoid more awkward conversations with Dylan.
He’s avoiding me too, though. I can tell by the way he always manages to be surrounded by at least two people every time I pass by him.
I’m about to head for the bathroom to take a break when three women rush over to me from across the room.
“Jasalie, it’s so great to meet you!” one gushes.
“You’re just adorable!” says another.
“We’ve been hearing so much about you, but we never got a chance to actually pin you down while you were working!” says the third.
I take a step backward. “I’m sorry. Are you all…”
