“Going somewhere?”
The husky tone in his throat gave away his identity. I peered out from underneath my hat as I kept my body plastered to the back of the building, doing the best I could to show a lack of interest.
“Home,” I breathed. “I’m going home.”
The wind howled, forcing my attention onto the darkness in front of me as I crossed my arms and pressed my fingernails into them. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him nonchalantly moving until he was standing right in front of me.
Both of his hands rested in the pockets of his jeans. Naturally, I stared at those instead of his face because the nerves in my belly were furious and the thought of direct eye contact made my knees quiver.
Six minutes seemed like an eternity from now.
“Party isn’t over yet,” he said, his voice laced with an indication of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Still looking down, I responded, “It is for me. It’s been a long night and I’m ready to go home.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” His boots inched closer. “I could’ve sworn you were finally on your way over to me before you rushed out the back door.”
My eyes flashed up, annoyance raging through them.
His stare was commanding, almost making me forget why I was annoyed in the first place. Until I noticed the smug smirk he was trying to hide under that mustache and the image of him slinking those lips up to Delilah’s ear.
Something darted around the depths of my belly.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I didn’t even notice you when I walked out,” I said, more confidently than I felt.
But he wasn’t wrong and he knew it, making this even more embarrassing.
“I don’t think I am though,” he said, shuffling even closer. At this point, our faces were inches apart, the warmth from his breath blanketing my cheeks and a fire roaring in my chest. I wanted to say something, I even tried to, but I couldn’t focus with this man so damn close to me.
“You think I didn’t have my eye on you all night,” he said casually, pulling one of his hands from the pocket of his jeans and placing it on the building behind me.
Was this man ever not calm?
“Your laughs at the bar. The dancing only a few feet away from me. The stolen glances you thought only you were stealing.” He breathed. The smell of spearmint and whiskey danced around us. “The only thing I couldn’t see was why you never came over to me, because based on nothing more than the number of times we both caught the other one staring, you were feeling whateverthisis tonight,” he said, motioning his hand up and down.
I’d always assumed he was used to girls stealing glances at him, figuring he never gave them a second thought. There were no less than fifteen girls who’d gone up to him throughout the night.
Not like I was counting or anything.
“Me? Couldn’t I ask you the same thing?” I dropped my arms, pointing my finger at him and pushing it into his firm chest. The urge to flatten my palm was dangerously strong, but I resisted. “You have no problem whispering god knows what into Delilah’s ear and spinning her around the dance floor. You could’ve easily done the same with me.”
His eyes darkened as a wicked grin two-stepped across his face.
“I thought you didn’t notice me when you left?”
Dammit.
This man was infuriating.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said firmly.
I was quick on my toes, surprisingly so, because every ounce of my body was hungry for just a taste of his touch. But after tonight, it made me think that maybe I’d given him too much benefit of the doubt when it came to who he was.
I would never say this out loud, but part of me, just a little part, had thought that maybe the baby spark I’d felt flicker every time he was around—even in the dark when I hadn’t known who he was—was a reciprocated feeling. But now, it was clear I’d gotten ahead of myself, and he was, in fact, just a man who was looking for another notch in his belt.
“And you didn’t answer mine,” he said, moving his other hand from his pocket.
“I asked first, but it doesn’t matter; I already know the answer.”
