"Glad you like it," he rumbles, striding across the kitchen to grab mugs from a cabinet. His back flexes as he moves, themuscles bunching and rippling. Jesus. How much time does he spend working out?
"You have a home gym, don't you?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Of course you do," I groan. "You probably spend three hours a day in it, too."
"Two."
"Ugh." I scowl at him when he turns around. "That's just inhumane."
"You don't work out?"
"I do…usually my mouth." Lilah and I go to the gym at least once a week. We both hate it and swear we're never going back, but we still go.
His gaze immediately drops to my lips, his eyes darkening.
"That isnotwhat I meant."
"Oh, I'm well aware, princess." His lips curve at the corners. "You've been using that smart mouth on me since we met."
"You deserve it."
He just grins, sauntering toward the coffee pot on the edge of the island. "So…you're still pissed about jail, huh?"
"They fingerprinted me, River."
"They didn't submit them."
"How do you know that?" I demand.
"Because I made sure," he shrugs.
"I…" I just gape at him, thrown for another loop. Who the fuckisthis man? Definitely not a middle-aged college professor with anxiety issues, that's for damn sure. I'm not even sure he's the insufferable ass I've been trying so hard to convince myself he is, either. He's something else. Diabolical, unhinged.Beautiful.
"What brings you to my doorstep today?"
I hesitate for a long moment, fidgeting with my hands the way Sarah Tolliver, our clerk, does when she's nervous. I don't evendo nerves, but this man has me ready to jump out of my own damn skin. "I have questions."
"So do I."
"I get to ask mine first."
"Fine. Shoot," he says, pouring coffee into two mugs.
"Why'd you drop the charges?"
"Never intended for them to stick."
"Then why have me arrested at all?"
He carries my coffee over to me. "Because every time I bring up a date, you panic. Figured if I gave you enough incentive to agree, we could cut through that."
"I do not panic!"
"You do," he murmurs, taking a sip of his coffee. "Why?"
"Maybe I have a thing about not getting involved with people I admire," I mutter, stubbornly refusing to look at him. "And maybe I like your books enough to want to keep that innocence alive."
