It wasn’t a dig. Her expression told me that her curiosity was genuine, as if the whole idea of dating was a complete anathema to her.
‘Once you meet someone you click with, all that stuff getseasier. Talking, getting to know them, it’s not boring. It’s exciting.’ I pressed my lips into a thin line, suddenly feeling self-conscious under the weight of her gaze, eyes pinched like she didn’t believe a word I said. What the hell had happened to this woman for her to loathe being in a relationship so much? The need to find out everything I could about her was so all-consuming I had to take a large mouthful of beer to stop the questions from tumbling out.
‘Well, dear old Michael, whom you scared off—thanks again—was not someone I clicked with. I have more sexual chemistry with my morning coffee.’
I chuckled, low and deep. Her gaze, which had been focused on her drink, snapped to mine. The air between us pulled taut. Since that first night we met, Rosie Grange could steal the air in my lungs, and at the same time, make it feel like I hadn’t taken a proper breath until she waltzed into my life. The angel, perched on my other shoulder, quietly told me that despite our intense attraction, I was glad it never went further. Rosie wasn’t the person to settle down. She didn’t commit to anyone longer than a few hours.
And I couldn’t be another faceless, nameless man in her bed. The thought of that even being a possibility caused my stomach to twist painfully. I’d rather have her friendship than lose it over one night of—potentially incredible—sex.
She let out a soft laugh, uncrossing and recrossing her legs before she lifted her glass and downed half of it in one go. She didn’t even wince at the burn of the alcohol.
Even though it wasn’t the question I wanted to ask, I jutted my head to where the fake watch guy had stalked out. ‘What now?’
‘More mind-numbing scrolling to find my one true love.’ Her eyes rolled, lips curling in distaste. I forced my attention onto my half-empty beer to stop thinking about her trawling through another dating app, messaging other men. I wasn’t ajealous person. It was my supremelackof jealousy that resulted in me getting cheated on twice now. My ex, Daniel, had been seeing his personal trainer multiple times a week for months, and I never even thought twice. I trusted him.Rookie mistake.After the dumpster fire that was that relationship, I made a personal vow to never date anyone else from the gym. No matter how attractive. I wasn’t stupid enough to risk the same thing happening again.
Jealousy simply wasn’t something I felt. So tell me why, the green-eyed monster decided to rear its head and beat its chest to tell Rosie that her search was over. Stupid fucking caveman instincts.
‘Now, I have a terrifying feeling that I’m gonna be getting a tattoo. Not only that, but Fallon keeps sending me pictures of cartoon characters, telling me they’ll look cute on various parts of my body.’
I burst out laughing. ‘What was the most recent one?’
A look of genuine anxiety washed over her face. ‘Spongebob, on my arse.’
Thinking of her perfect behind with a yellow blob made me laugh harder.
She slapped my bicep with the back of her hand. ‘Stop it! This is my life you are so cavalierly cackling at.’
‘You won’t die getting a tattoo,' I assured. ‘They aren’t that bad.’
Her brow arched, and then her eyes danced all over my body.
‘I didn’t know you had tattoos.’ Her voice dropped to that husky tone that had me shifting.
‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, sweetheart.’
Never one to turn from a challenge, her eyes lit up with intrigue. ‘Like what?’
I hesitated for a second before turning the question back on her. ‘Your phobia of needles is really that bad?’
A flicker of disappointment crossed her face. Her eyes dropped to the bar top, where her fingers toyed with the mat under her drink. I wanted her eyes back, wanted those electric blues to snap back to mine.
Rosie might be good at fooling the rest of the world that she has her shit together. Her confidence is the kind that fills an entire room. It lights up places like sunlight piercing through dark clouds, and you could be forgiven for assuming that’s all she is. But all it takes is one look into her eyes, and you see that façade for what it is: a shield.
‘It’s improved over the years, especially with my job. I had to get used to needles. And if I’m administering them to an animal, I’m okay, but if one comes anywhere near me…’ She suppressed a violent shudder. ‘Yeah, it’s an irrational fear I’ve always had, I guess.’ Finally, her head tilted to look at me. ‘Come on, I’m not going to be the only one spilling my guts. Tell me an irrational fear you have.’
I shook my head. ‘Absolutely not.’
Her mouth opened in surprise. ‘Oh, that means it’s good.’ She leaned forward so her face was barely a foot from mine.Fuck.She smelled like heaven. ‘Tell me, please? I won’t hold it against you.’ She held up her hand, pinky extended.
I glanced from her proffered little finger to her face. Memories of that night were spinning to the forefront of my brain. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who remembered.
Ignoring the cyclone swirling in my stomach, I arched a brow. ‘You promise?’
Head bobbing furiously, she grinned. And hell if it wasn’t the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. I made a show of debating it for all of two seconds before my pinky curled around hers and squeezed.
Bending my head down, any excuse to inhale her vanilla scent, I whispered in her ear, fingers still interlocked. ‘I’m afraid of clowns.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Like circus clowns or IT the movie kind of clowns?’
