Only to the door? A ball of disappointment plunges from my throat to my gut, which I promptly ignore.
Pretending to be relieved, I flippantly toss, “You’re not coming inside to torture me some more? Finally, the night is looking up.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re terrible at hiding your feelings?”
Mentally, I squawk at him and flex my talons in warning. Outwardly, I let my face fall slack.
Rubbing his nose in my transparent nonplussed act, he adds, “The secret to a good first date is to always leave her wanting more. So I’m only going as far as your door.”
“Too bad for you that this wasn’t a date and I want nothing from you except your absence.”
He winks. “Nice try, cookie. Very believable.”
Instead of confirming his theory, I opt for nonsense. “Anything can be a piñata if you hit it hard enough.”
He falls in step with me, strolling at my languid pace. Neither of us seems to be in a rush to say goodbye. I inhale when he presses his hand against the small of my back, resting it above the plump curve of my tush.
I dig for my keys to distract myself from how positively delicious that feels. How right it is for him to touch me. Anywhere or everywhere. Rough or gentle, passionate or doting. I want all of Reed’s touches.
And I always have.
Yet that’s not what this is about. Imustremember what I’m doing here.
But how can I when it feels this good?
I answer my own question with a single memory from five years ago. When my heart shattered because of his lies.
When we get to the door, I drive my key into the lock with a bit more force than normal. If I’m going to be able to do this—to get the info we need out of him—then I cannot let myself lose track of what he’s capable of. I need to remember the pain he caused me.
Armed with that bitter memory, I push open the door and reach for Kenzie’s burger and my salad. “Thanks for giving me a ride home, Reed.”
I feign a smile, remembering I’m supposed to be winning him over, and I can’t do that if I’m shooting arrows at him via my eyeballs.
Using a buttery smooth voice, he says, “You’re welcome, Lila. See you soon.”
“You’re still planning on stalking my table at work, aren’t you?”
“I have a crime to solve, cookie. I probably won’t be around the casino much for a while.”
My brows furrow, but I force them to relax almost instantly. “Well, then I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Soon,” he adds with a flirty wink.
“Soon?” I parrot, mine a question.
“For our next date.”
Deciding on the spot to play a little hard to get, I shrug. “We’ll see about that, Detective Delusional.”
Right before I close the door, he dashes forward to stop me. My entire body tenses on instinct at his sudden attack.
Except it’s not an attack.
And nothing could protect me from what he does next—a soft, feather-light kiss on my cheek. Then he’s gone.
Reed Hayes is going to destroy me. Again.
Exhaling,I answer Kenzie’s question for the third time. “Nooo. I didn’t bring it up. Let’s think of it as laying the groundwork.”
