Page 31
“Is it?”
With a smile teasing his lips, he reaches down and grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips. His gaze stays locked on mine as he kisses my knuckles and I struggle to breathe, my heart pounding in my ears.
“See you Saturday,” he promises then turns and walks away without a word.
* * * *
My teeth sink into my lip as I scan the street through the coffee shop window, watching for Lincoln’s Camaro and trying not to hyperventilate. For the past three days, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him or the way he made me feel when he pressed up against me outside my apartment. And if I did find a moment where his charming smile and alluring eyes weren’t at the forefront of my mind, he would text me and bring it all rushing back. His messages were mostly friendly and a little flirty, sending a rush through me each time I heard my phone beep. As much as I’m enjoying it though, I’m so out of my element that it’s not even funny. When I broke up with my high school boyfriend three weeks before graduation, I had just been through the scariest time of my life and I swore off men for a while. Once I felt like I was ready to date again, I just wanted to wait for someone special but it’s hard to meet people when all you do is work.
The deep rumble of an engine draws my gaze back to the window and my lips part as Lincoln pulls into a parking spot on the back of a sexy black chopper. God, he’s lethal. From his ripped up jeans and black boots to his freshly fucked hair that I’m starting to think he just wakes up with, he screams bad boy and it’s definitely doing things for me. He stands, the bike between his thighs and I fidget in my seat, all sorts of fantasies playing out in my mind. What the hell is wrong with me? My mom just died and here I am, imagining straddling his hips and losing myself for a few hours. Swinging his leg over the bike, he pulls off his helmet and runs his fingers through his hair, giving it that sexy messy look and as he glances up, he meets my gaze in the window, flashing me a smile before walking toward the door.
Butterflies zip around in my belly as he opens the door of the coffee shop and directs his gaze toward me as he maneuvers through the tables.
“I got you a coffee,” I say when he reaches me, pointing to the to-go cup sitting in front of the empty chair across from me.
“Thanks.” He sits down and takes a sip before humming in approval. “You remember how I take my coffee?”
“Occupational hazard, I guess.”
Yeah, right.
I’ve never remembered another customer’s coffee order unless they were a regular. It’s just him. He nods, oblivious to my lie, and takes another sip before leaning back in his seat.
“So, do you have the paperwork?”
Nodding my head, I set my cup down and grab my bag off the floor, digging through it for the contract I had Mr. Wiley draw up for me and a pen. I was so focused on him that I almost forgot the reason for our meeting, which is strange since I’m so eager to be done with this apartment. I set the contract and pen on the table before turning them to him.
“I’ve let the landlord know that you’ll be taking over the lease so he’s expecting payment from you from now on. It’s seven fifty a month with an eight hundred dollar deposit. February is already paid for so don’t worry about that. As soon as he gets the deposit from you, he’ll give me mine back.”
He lays his hand on top of mine on the table. “Wait. I’ll pay you for February’s rent, too.”
“It’s not a big deal. I really just want to be done with all this.”
He shakes his head, an adorable scowl knitting his brows. “I insist. It’s your money and I highly doubt you’ve even spent a single night there this month.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say and sigh when I see the stubborn expression on his face. “But okay. You need to sign here, here, and here.”
He takes the pen from me and signs his name in the three places I indicated before spinning the contract back to me. Our fingers brush when he hands me the pen and I suck in a breath, my head spinning from the urge to touch him again as I sign my name three times.
“Congrats. You’ve got an apartment,” I say when I’m done, laying the pen on the table and handing him the keys. He flashes me a smile and I hand him a sticky note. “I’ll get a copy of the contract over to the landlord and that’s his number if you ever need anything. He doesn’t come around much but he’s a good guy.”
He nods. “Thanks.”
“Of course. Well, I guess I better get going,” I murmur, searching for any excuse to stay and somehow wanting to flee at the same time.
“Hold up.”
He reaches out, grabbing my hand, and I suck in a breath as the hair on my arms sticks straight up and warmth pulses over my skin. “Stay and hang out with me?”
“Oh, I…uh, I don’t know about that.”
“Please?” he asks, his smile turning shy and my heart skips a beat. Oh, hell…
“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t use that word a lot?”
He laughs. “Because I don’t but I’m saying it now.”
“Can I be honest with you?” I ask and he nods.
