I’m close to coming myself, but I hold back. I haven’t come in my pants from making out since I was a teen.
The car rolls to a stop, and the little jolt causes Savannah to jump out of my lap and land on the other bench. Her hair is mussed, her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are a rosy pink.
Savannah takes a quick glance out the window, letting her know we’ve arrived at her apartment building, then her hand covers her mouth as she looks back at me. “Oh my god.”
I reach for her hand to pull her back into my lap, but she dodges my touch and gathers her things.
“Where do you think you’re going?” My brows raise in question.
She stumbles over her words in her rush to get away. “You gave me a ride home, and now we’re here. So, I’m going…home.”
“Oh?” My relaxed state contrasts with her frantic disposition. It’s a comical sight.
She pauses, staring down at the floor. I look down with her and realize she’s looking at my briefcase. “Your last name is Reed, right?”
“Yes,” I answer, confused as to why she’s asking a question she knows the answer to. Then I remember which briefcase I’m using today.
I don’t buy things that have my name on them, but this was a gift from Rory last Christmas. If I don’t use it at least once a month, he notices.
“Are you…No…That’s too much of a coincidence,” she mutters.
“Am I what?”
She studies my face for a few moments before she opens her mouth again. “Oh my God. You have the same nose and cheekbones.”
There’s only one person she could be talking about. “Have you met my son, Nathaniel?”
Her brows rise. “Nathaniel?” She chuckles.
“He goes by Nate.” I shake my head. “I take it that you know him?”
“You—uh—you could say that.” Savannah scratches lightly at her cheek. “We met a couple of weeks ago, and we may have dated for a minute.”
My body and mind don’t react to the new information. After taking a moment to process, not even the slightest hint of remorse enters my conscience. “I take it you two have broken up.”
Savannah searches my face. “Yes.”
My posture relaxes. “Then I don’t see the issue here.”
Her voice rises in pitch. “You don’t?”
“Nope,” I reply simply.
“I need to wrap my head around this.” Savannah moves around me, opening the door, but this time I don’t let her avoid me.
“Wait.” I grab her wrist, pulling her back to me. I give her a passionate parting kiss, and she participates insatiably. When I break the kiss, her lips follow mine for a moment. “This isn’t over, Savannah.”
“Okay.” She nods her head in agreement.
“Tell me you believe me,” I demand.
She complies. “I believe you.”
“Good girl,” I growl.
Savannah shivers at my praise. She hesitates as she goes to leave, seemingly reluctant.
And I don’t want her to.
