“Because it’s ridiculous.” She resumes moving her legs, and we stumble back into dancing.
“I disagree. You’re hot. I’m hot. You’re available. I’m available. There is chemistry. I’m considered a catch.”
She laughs—not just laughs—she throws her head back, having a genuinely joyful moment.
I would want to bottle that sound and carry it with me if it weren’t at my expense. Fuck, I would probably want to patent it and put it in a vault, so that no one else could enjoy it.
“And he is humble, ladies and gentlemen.” She pats my shoulder.
“You’re not even a little interested?” Desperate, perhaps, but also realistic.
I can take a rejection.
No, I can’t, but let’s pretend.
She tilts her head to the side and smiles at me. It’s a curious smile, like she is trying to figure me out while feeling sorry for me. That is afirst for me.
Fuck, it’s like I’m losing my virginity to this woman. And not in a gentle, romantic, movie way.
She doesn’t respond the way I’m used to, but fuck, do I enjoy the challenge.
“You’re charming, I’ll give you that.”
“So what’s the problem?” The music stops, and I lead her to the bar.
“Just because I can have something doesn’t mean I want it.”
Just because I can have something doesn’t mean I want it.
I’ve been replaying her words on a loop throughout the night. While we drank at the bar. While we danced more. While we chatted with other guests.
We’re being driven home now while she sits beside me, admiring the city lights as we head toward her neighborhood.
She leans back and closes her eyes, and I let myself admire her profile. Her eye makeup is a bit smudged, and I want to reach over to wipe it, but I don’t.
“I can feel you staring.” A whisper of a smile brightens her face.
I’m not used to a no. I’m especially not used to a no that isn’t wrapped in flirtation,in negotiation.
The driver pulls us to the curb, and I jump out before rounding the car to open the door for her. She stumbles slightly.
“I’ll walk you up.”
She snorts. “I’m not sleeping with you, Xander.”
Jesus. “I didn’t say you were.”
“You didn’tnotsay it.”
“I’m walking you to your door because it’s dark.”
The strap of her dress is falling down one shoulder, and it takes everything in me not to reach over and fix it. Or trace the line of her skin. Or say something stupid like, “Please don’t go in yet.”
She stops at the entrance and turns to me. “Thank you for tonight.”
“You’re thanking me for not trying to grope you while we danced?” I wink at her.
A laugh escapes her. “Well, that too.”
