Page 40 of Dead Pretty

Just being friendly with him is breaking my own rules.

We reach my door, and I hesitate.

If Jack notices, he doesn’t say.

Forcing my arm to move, I get my key from my pocket and unlock the door.

As expected, it’s still pitch-black inside my apartment. Light from the hall illuminates the entryway.

Jack turns on the Flashlight app on his cell and shines it into my apartment.

“Leave the door open to give us a little extra light,” Jack says, and I nod in answer and leave it wide open.

I go inside first, Jack following behind.

Jack sets the stepladder below the light fixture. “You sure you don’t want me to replace the bulb for you?” he checks.

I look up at the light, and it seems a lot higher than I first realized. But I made a whole deal out of being able to do it. So, I sigh and say, “No, it’s fine. But thanks.”

Jack shines the flashlight upward for me as I make my way up the steps. I reach up to remove the broken lightbulb. I get it out and hand it to Jack, and then I insert the new one.

I did it. See, I’m not totally useless.

“Done?” Jack asks.

“Yep.” I smile to myself.

He holds out a hand to help me back down the steps, shining the flashlight so I can see my way.

I slide my hand in his. Heat sizzles up my arm. His palm is rough and warm, and his hand dwarfs mine.

I have a flash of visions of what it would be like to have his hands all over my body.

Jesus.

I wish I could turn my attraction to him off. I have always been able to control everything in my life. Every emotion and feeling, I just shut it off. But this ever-growing attraction to Jack … it won’t seem to go away. I can see now that the only way to make it disappear is to not see him anymore.

But since he lives on the same floor as me and comes into my place of work on a regular basis, I don’t see how it’s possible. Unless I quit my job and move.

Which seems quite a drastic thing to do to squash my attraction to him.

Nope. I’m just going to have to woman up and get past it.

“Thanks,” I say to him through a mouth of cotton when my foot hits the floor of my living room.

But I don’t remove my hand from his. And he doesn’t let go either.

Remove your hand, Audrey, my brain issues the command.

My body just isn’t complying.

I’m too focused on the feel of his hand in mine.

He moves his finger over the soft skin on the inside of my wrist.

My body’s reaction is strong; my breath hitches, and there’s a tug in my belly.

So much for womaning up and getting past my attraction to him.