“Of course.”
“And if I hate your car…”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“It has heated seats.”
I hate how much that affects me. He sees it.
His grin widens.“Thought so. I’ll text you the plate later. I’ll have it dropped here in the morning.”
I roll my eyes and turn toward the entrance before I do something idiotic, like smile at him again.
“Goodnight, Blake.”
“Night, Lisa.”
I take three steps, then hear him behind me.
“Oh, and Lisa?”
I look back.
“When I ask you out again tomorrow, I’d like credit for consistency.”
I stare at him.
Then shake my head, smiling despite every instinct I have.
“You are unbelievable.”
“See you soon, trouble.”
I go inside before he can watch what that does to me.
But up in the elevator, alone with my reflection and his car key still clutched in my hand, I can’t help smiling.
Which is probably the most dangerous part of all.
Chapter 10
Blake
There are exactly three reasons I don’t text Lisa Miller the morning after the party.
The first reason is that she slapped someone in public last night. She deserves at least twelve uninterrupted hours of peace before I start showing up again like a recurring problem she accidentally adopted.
The second reason is Zane. Technically, he hasn’t said anything. Which makes me think he either doesn’t realize this is happening or is overthinking it himself. Neither option is what I like.
The third reason is the most inconvenient one. I don’t want to text her. I want to see her. There’s a difference.
Texting is casual. Easy. Disposable. It’s the sort of thing I’ve done a hundred times with a hundred women. Women whose names I barely remember after the third message thread.
Lisa is not that. Lisa gets the car. Lisa gets the flowers. Lisa gets the effort.
Unfortunately, that realization hits me at six thirty in the morning on a Monday. I’m wide awake and staring at my ceiling like I’m about to take a final exam in emotional vulnerability.
