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That guy at the gas station had been right, we did need a room.

I staggered us toward her front door. Then suddenly she was wiggling away from me, her feet back on the ground. She put her hand to my chest, making space between us. She panted and her wide eyes flickered back down to my lips, and it looked for a second like she might reconsider, but instead she launched herself off me, turned, and tore full speed into the house.

The door slammed, the bolt lock clicked behind her, followed by the rake of the chain, and I stood alone in her walkway for a whiplashed moment in my rumpled shirt, my hair a mess, catching my breath.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck just happened?

It was like I’d been sucked into a tornado made of animal magnetism, tossed around, and then spit out alone in front of her house.

I had to adjust the front of my pants.

Goddamn, this woman had me. It was more than just physical. She fucking had me. I didn’t even want to leave. I felt like scratching on her door like a dog wanting to be let in.

Tucker whined at the house through the open window of my truck.

“Yeah, I know, buddy,” I breathed. “I wish I were in there too.”

I drove home and poured myself a bourbon.

Sloan.

She liked my music. It hadn’t even occurred to me how much that mattered until it came out. I wanted her to like it. Her opinion meant something. I wanted her to like everything about me.

This wasn’t just some woman. I’d suspected it when we’d been talking on the phone, but now I knew it. This was big, different from anything I’d ever felt. It was like the first time I’d picked up a guitar, that same sense of certainty.

I stripped down for bed, climbed under the covers, and sat up against my headboard, my cell in my hand. Tucker was always the safest topic. I started typing.

Jason:Tucker misses you.

She didn’t make me wait.

Sloan:He’s just claustrophobic in that lunch box. Let him out.

I laughed.

Jason:I really enjoyed our date.

Sloan:Me too.

Then I decided to take a risk.

Jason:You’re not mad I kissed you? I know you have rules about first dates.

A long pause ensued before she replied. When the dots started to jump, I sat up to wait for her text to come through, throwing back the rest of my whiskey.

Sloan:I’m beginning to think the rules don’t apply to you. Good night, Jason.