I take a step closer. “I think you’d like it.”
It was supposed to be a joke, but the air between us feels suddenly charged. Lois bats her lashes and bites her lip, and an image flashes into my mind: me, striding across the floor, pinning her to the wall behind her.
It’s official: I’m completely obsessed.
I force myself to meet her eyes. “Why are you staring at my eyebrows?”
“No reason.”
She steps to the side and makes for the fridge, leaving me standing there swaying. It’s like she is the only thing holding me up.
“I’m gonna head down and pick up some groceries,” she says. “Need anything?”
I shake my head. It’s only when the door slams shut behind her that I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Her not coming tonight is a good thing—I could really do with a change of scenery, a reset, with any girl but her. The way I see it, getting laid is the only thing that can fix me.
I’m about to pour myself another coffee when I spot her little yellow coin purse, so I grab it and rush out into the hall, calling after her.There’s no reply, and I figure she must be outside already. I race down the five floors, spilling out onto the sidewalk, where I find her—deep in conversation with her ex. As soon as Kirk spots me, he narrows his eyes.
“What’s up, buddy?”
I try to sound friendly, but I’m as cold as ice, and Kirk knows it. Every time I see them together, it hits me straight in the gut. He glares at me as I sidle up to Lois. I slide my hand down her back and leave it to rest on her waist as I pull her into me. I haven’t touched her since Florida, and the warmth of her skin sets my heart racing as she wriggles against me.
Kirk turns to Lois. “See you at the party tonight?”
“I—”
“We have plans,” I answer for her.
I feel her stomach tighten. She looks up at me, searching my face.
“And groceries to pick up.” I wink at her.
I don’t even say bye to Kirk. I grab Lois’s hand and lead her far away from this guy and his punchable face. I squeeze her fingers and watch as she swings back, waving a quick, awkward goodbye over her shoulder. We get to the corner, and I still haven’t let go of her.
She looks down at our hands. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. We don’t have to do that, I mean. I think he gets the idea—”
“What idea?”
“That you… That I…” She sighs. “Just forget it.”
“Why does that guy live rent-free in your head?”
She stops in her tracks, and my excuse for holding on to her evaporates. I let go.
She stuffs her hands in her pockets and glares at me.
“It’s Kirk. I lo—”
She pauses mid-sentence, and we both swallow hard. Or I’m trying, anyway: My throat is as dry as sand.
She scowls. “I don’t want to talk about it. You always make fun of me.”
“I don’t.” If I sound surprised, it’s because I am.
“You do, Lane. Much less often these days, sure. But…”
I sift back through my memories. I don’t remember ever making fun of her. Okay, I might have teased her a little at the start—but that was ages ago now.
I tilt my head. “So talk me through it. I won’t lecture you, I swear.”
