Page 33 of Spurred On

“I’ll be right back. Sit. Relax.” Without another word, Sidney headed off to the kitchen to refill the empty pitcher.

Hanna looked far too pale for her liking. She was known to have a tender stomach in the mornings sometimes, so coffee was out. Maybe some dry toast?

As she filled the pitcher from the tap, a familiar heat swelled behind her. A shiver of prescience took her.

Or maybe it wasn’t prescience. Maybe it was just his cologne. It made her mouth water.

That was probably the only reason she didn’t lose her hold on the pitcher when he spoke. “Why did you leave?” His voice was low, wounded and danced on the air around her.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Um . . . It was over?”

His face went a little red. “It wasn’t over.”

“Yeah, it kind of was.” She turned away, heading for the dining hall, but he whipped her around.

“Was it?” He yanked her closer and took her lips. He kissed her with a raging passion. She willed herself not to respond.

When he realized she was motionless in his arms, he lifted his head and frowned at her as though he could not understand why. She could hardly blame him. Hell, she could barely understand herself.

It took everything in her to pull away and affect a playful tone. “Now, now, Cody. You’ve already had your kiss.”

“I find I want more.” There was a delicious growl to his voice.

“An agreement is an agreement.”

He leaned back, his perfect features arranged in an alluring pout. “Didn’t you like it? It seemed like you liked it.”

She’d loved it. “That is hardly the point.” She scooped some ice into the pitcher.

“It’s exactly the point.”

“No, Cody.” She set her palm on his warm chest and attempted to hold him off. Her will was weakening. Alarm bells rang in her head. “It’s not.”

“Then what is the point?”

She stared at him for a long moment, searching for the words, contemplating which truth to tell him. Before she could choose between the dismal options, he spoke.

“We should, you know, explore this thing.”

Thing?Was that what it was? What it had been? A thing? “We don’t have a thing.”

A flush rose on his cheeks. “We did.”

She pushed away. She had to. “Seriously, Cody? You screwed me once in the backseat of my Mustang—”

“I see you still have it.”

Seriously? Fucking seriously?Did he imagine she kept the car because it reminded her of him? Of the night they’d both had too much to drink and she gave herself to him in a besotted stupor?

Hardly.

She couldn’t afford a new car. That was all.

He smirked at her, and her fury escalated.

“You screwed me in the backseat of my Mustang, and a day later, you were dating Tibby Pucey.”

“I—”