“Did we ever have a shot atnotbeing screwed up for life?” she responds instantly.
“In some ways, I suppose no, but what if you meet someone?” I ask, referring to what she said last year. Even though the thought of her with someone else makes me sick, it’s something I may have to accept.
“Where is this coming from? You’ve spent the past decade daring any guy to look my way.”
“And I’m sorry for that.”Sort of.
“I’m not. They were never going to give me what I needed anyway. You saved them from wasting their time and mine.” She shrugs and lets out what sounds like a sigh of defeat. “I know what I said last year. But, the reality of it is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give you up.”
“So the alternative is what…we do this forever?”
“At least until we fall out of love with each other.” I watch the goose bumps appear all over her arms despite the warm temperatures, and I can see the discomfort on her face, probably brought on by those words. “Unless that’s already happened for you.”
“It hasn’t,” I tell her honestly. “I’m not sure I ever will. Our feelings developed in response to trauma, and unless that trauma somehow disappears from our memory, I don’t think our feelings ever will.”
A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips, but it disappears as quickly as it comes because she realizes I’m still not agreeing to what she wants.It’s what I want too if I’m being honest, but I know we can’t keep going down this road.
“Can’t we just have dinner?” I ask her as I lean back in my chair. I watch as her eyes follow the movement and her front teeth sink into her bottom lip. We were so in tune with each other's every move when we were together and knew exactlywhich moves turned the other on. So when her eyes lift to meet mine, and she raises an eyebrow, I can’t stop the chuckle that leaves my lips at her unspoken words. “Tell me about school.”
“You mean you don’t already know?” She mirrors my movements, leaning back in her chair, and my eyes immediately go to her tits that are on display. I bite my bottom lip thinking about all the times I’ve had my teeth scraping across her nipples, licking down the valley of her breasts to that delicious space between her legs that I spent years being obsessed with.Still am.“Stop looking at my tits, Sebastian.”
I snort before taking a sip of my drink, trying not to fixate on what her nipples feel like between my lips. “You wore that dress on purpose.”
“Obviously.” She smirks, and my dick throbs painfully.
“You wore that to class? Seems you’re a bit overdressed.” I’d been obsessed with Saint’s body since I was fifteen, and suddenly, she had these curves I hadn’t seen before. I’ll never forget the gasp that left her lips when she felt me rising beneath her when she’d perched herself in my lap in nothing more than one of her little flimsy tennis dresses. I’d sputtered nervously, gotten up, and locked myself in the bathroom for almost an hour before avoiding her for the next week.
“Nope,” she says, popping the p. “I changed in the bathroom on campus.”
“So just to torture me.”
“And what, you wore a backward hat…because why? Bad hair day?” She snorts. “You haven’t had a bad hair day in your life. Bastard,” she grumbles, and I grin at her, having known the hat would affect her.
“Your hair looks great, Saint. I love the cut.” She tucks some hair behind her ear flirtily and smiles like she always does when I compliment her. Like I’ve just given her the answers to all life’s questions.
“Thank you.” I cross my arms over my chest, letting the white T-shirt I'm wearing pull against my arms. I watch as she drags her eyes over my tattoos. More importantly, all the tattoos I have for her. “You know, for someone who said we couldn’t fool around tonight, you’re surely pulling out all of your usual moves to seduce me.”
I chuckle and drag a hand across my jaw, feeling more stubble than usual because I know Saint loves it when I have a little more facial hair. “My breathing seduces you, Saint.”This is true, but I also know it turns Halle on when I’m wearing a backwards hat, a white T-shirt, and jeans, and even more when I have more facial hair than usual.
Her mouth falls open, and she slaps the table while the most genuine smile she’s had since we sat down crosses her face. “It does not!”
I laugh again because I love this version of Saint most of all: carefree and funny and happy. “It’s okay.Everythingyou do seduces me.” I bite my bottom lip, slowly dragging my eyes down her face to settle on her mouth. “I’m just trying to resist.”
“Fine.” She pouts, and while she’s acquiescing now, I know this probably isn’t over. “School is fine. How’s work?”
I own an architecture firm in Seattle, responsible for some of the city's largest buildings and for at least half of the city's developing communities. I’d gone into this line of work because it’s what my stepfather did and because I wanted to do something to honor his memory other than the few tattoos I have for him.
I don’t think falling in love with and then screwing his daughter every year on his death date counts.
“It’s good. I’m in the middle of a pretty big project, but they can handle it without me for a few days.”
“You’re staying for a few days?” I hear the excitement in her voice over me being here longer than just one night.
“Well, I’m heading to North Carolina when I leave here for Mom’s engagement party.” She nods, giving me a disappointed look. “She wants you there, Saint. I know she invited you.”
“She did.” She nods. “I talked to her a few weeks ago.”
“Good. She misses you.”
