“I need to talk to you,” I say, reaching out and grabbing his sleeve. I start for the back door.
“Ginny!” my mom starts.
“Just need a minute, Mom,” I say, not slowing down.
Sure, it probably looks weird for me to be dragging Everett, Graham’s best friend, who I’ve supposedly never met before, out of the room, but I can’t care about that. It’svitallyimportant that he and I talk and get a few things straight before we get any further into this weekend.
Oh my God, he’s staying for this whole weekend.
In Carver’s old bedroom.
The bedroom right next to mine.
I shake my head as I drag Everett down the back hallway, through the garage door, out of the garage, and around to the side yard.
I can’t think about bedrooms and Clark Kent right now. I really can’t. Not without wanting to climb his big body and kiss the hell out of him, at least.
He’s your BOSS!!
Yeah, that’s the other problem.
I stop and turn to him. “I…”
But what should I say? I can’t be angry that he’s here, or that he’s Graham’s friend. None of that is his fault. He didn’t know who I was either.
“We cannottell them what happened between us,” I say.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says.
“Yeah, well, ditto.” I cross my arms and ball my hands into fists to try to keep my palms from itching to run over his chest.
“This is wild.” He steps forward. “You’re Graham’ssister?”
“Yes. And you’re his best friend and business partner.”
“Yes. But the chances of us meeting are crazy, and now we’re both here. I never thought I’d see you again.”
I lift a shoulder. “That was the plan.”
“I’ve thought about you every single day.”
Jesus. I grip my hands tighter. “It doesn’t matter. It’s averyweird coincidence, but it doesn’t matter.”
“The fuck if it doesn’t.” He steps forward again, frowning. “I went back to the bar the next morning, trying to find out if anyone had more information about you. I went to every hotel in a five-block radius looking for you.”
My eyes widen. That’s…oh, dammit. That’s kind of nice. And romantic. “You were stalking me?”
“Not at all. Because I couldn’t find you.”
“If youhadfound me, you would have stalked me?”
“No.” He leans in. “Because you would havehappilylet me into your room. And your bed.”
He’s right. What can I say?
“Until I found out who you really are,” I tell him, stepping back.
“I’m Graham’s friend. Surely that’s a pretty great reference. You should definitely see me again. A lot more. You should spend all your time with me while I’m here. You should let me fly you back to Denver next weekend.”
