“Me?”
“Yes, you. The way I feel about you.”
“Why does that scare you?”
I rest my forearms on my thighs as I stare straight ahead. “Because I don’t understand it. And I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you.”
I hear Jeremy’s intake of breath, and I glance at him. His eyes are comically wide as he stares at me, and I feel hotness creeping into my cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a wince. “That was too intense. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just been on my mind, I guess. When I don’t understand something, I fixate on it until I do. So here I am, still fixating.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I feel my panic rise. I probably just freaked him out. Hell, I think I just freaked myself out. But then he stands and holds out his hand. I glance around and then take it, allowing him to help me up.
“Let’s keep going,” he says.
The last room in the gallery is all pottery, including a timeline that the owner did on the history of the art form. Even though I love pottery, I’ve only done it as a creative outlet, so the information is all new to me and immensely fascinating. My stepmom would have absolutely loved this.
Jeremy looks at me sideways while I read. “You’re really into this, huh?”
I nod. “When I was in college, one of my roommates was aceramic engineer. She wanted to go overseas to developing countries and teach them how to purify water through clay and how to make dishes without a kiln.”
“Holy shit. I had no idea that was a thing.”
“Now with my—” I realize that I haven’t shared my pottery hobby with him yet, and I’ve already been weird and vulnerable once today, so I backpedal. “With my interest in pottery, I think there might be some good local pieces you could find for the pub.”
Jeremy’s eyes light up, and it makes my insides feel mushy. “I’ll add it to my list!”
God, he’s so pretty.
Without thinking, I tangle our fingers together and crowd him into an exit stairwell. It smells like concrete, the air is a bit stuffy, and everything is echoey, but all I see is him staring up at me with parted lips and startled eyes. I hold him against me and kiss him hungrily, licking into his mouth, my tongue probing obscenely.
His hands land on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. Just when I feel my dick start to take notice, I pull away and stare down at him. I bring a hand up, my thumb grazing his swollen bottom lip.
“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.
“Just a thank-you. For bringing me here. Today was . . . really fun.”
And I mean it. I don’t spend a lot of time outside of work and my apartment, but I’m starting to realize that maybe I should. I haven’t been this happy since before my stepmom died.
The door on the floor above us bangs open, and we jump apart. I give Jeremy an apologetic look before we reenter the main part of the building.
By the time we leave, it’s started to rain, puddles already gathering in the sidewalk cracks as we walk back toward Jeremy’s apartment. My stomach growls, and Jeremy giggles. “Let’s get lunch.”
I nod absently and look up at the thick clouds, wondering what it would be like to be able to kiss Jeremy Hart outside, in the rain, in front of the world, rather than hidden away in a smelly stairwell.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MARCUS
DECEMBER
Ienter the restaurant, smoothing out my suit even though it’s not even remotely wrinkled. The hostess looks up as I approach, a saccharine smile on her face.
“I have a reservation under Conner,” I tell her, trying to fight the nerves in my stomach. Everything about this stupid date feels wrong.
The hostess leads me to a table where Sabrina is already browsing a menu. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in a form-fitting black dress, her black curls barely tickling the bronze skin of her shoulders. I give her a tight smile, hoping it doesn’t look too fake.
She eyes me as I sit. “Before we talk, let’s order. I like to make sure there’s food coming so I have something to look forward to.”
