The music slows and he lowers his hands to my waist again, holding me close. My arms, apparently with a mind of their own, circle around his neck. When I let my gaze return to his, he’s looking at me desperately.
“Why are you on a date?”
I give a nervous titter. “What?”
He drops his head beside mine. “Why are you here with some other guy?”
“It was a set-up. Alex and Geoff know him.”
“Really?” He draws back to meet my gaze. “It’s got nothing to do with the fact that you’re freaking out about us having sex?”
“I’m not freaking out,” I hiss.
“Yes, you are. I know you felt something when we were together, and that’s freaking you out. Why else would you be here with him?”
I squirm, unwilling to admit that he might be right. I let him pull me closer, and when his gaze fastens on my mouth, I find my own eyes straying to his. He had that mouth all over my body—everywhere but on mine. And as the bar spins around us, I find myself unable to remember why I wouldn’t let myself kiss him. Right now, that mouth looks like heaven. It’s like he’s reading my mind, because he dips his head, lowering his lips to mine.
But my body has some kind of in-built mechanism, and I duck away from him before he can make contact. The haze of booze in my system clears, and I find myself suddenly feeling very sober.
Holy shit, that was close. What is wrong with me? I’m here on a date with someone else, for Christ’s sake—I can’t go kissing Myles. And that’s besides the point. I know better—I’m here withStefanfor a reason.
My heart is thundering but I try to be breezy. “I should probably get back to my date,” I say with an unsteady laugh. It sounds hollow to my own ears, and Myles isn’t smiling. In fact, he looks almost stunned.
“Are you serious?”
My mouth opens and closes as I waver, and he reaches for my hands.
“Don’t push me away. Why won’t you just give this a chance?”
I bite hard into my lower lip.Godhow I want to give in to him, to drag him into the alleyway out back and do everything I’ve imagined us doing on repeat for the past three days. But just as I’m about to tell him that I don’t want to be here with Stefan—that I’d rather go home withhim—I catch something from the corner of my eye. It’s the blond from the bar earlier, trying to get Myles’s attention. Bitterness rises in my throat and I step back.
“Cat—”
“I have to go.”
Myles heaves out a sigh. “Why are you doing this?”
“What?”
He leans in close. “Do you think I like seeing you on a date with someone else?”
“Do you think I like watching you flirt all evening?” I spit back.
Shit, where did that come from?
“It’s just a job. It’s meaningless.”
I pull away, wrapping my arms around myself. I’ve had this conversation so many times in the past that I’ve lost count. “It’s never meaningless, Myles.”
“Of course it is—I’ve told you that before. But you know what’snotmeaningless? You going on a date right in front of me, three days after we slept together. Either you’re trying to make a point, or you’re freaking out.”
“I amnotfreaking out,” I say through gritted teeth.
He folds his arms across his chest, leveling his gaze in a knowing look. He’s so damn sure of himself, so self-righteous, and it makes me furious. He doesn’t get to flirt with women all night and then be irritated that I’m on a date. And hedefinitelydoesn’t get to tell me how I’m feeling.
“Fuck this,” I mutter. “I’m leaving.”
His eyes move over my face, his expression hardening. “Fine. But you know, I’m not just here to entertain you. I’m not just someone you can fuck in between dating other guys.”
