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“But I’m right about tomorrow,” I add solemnly.
He doesn’t respond. The door clicks softly behind him. I’m relieved to have a moment to myself and process what the fuck just happened. I search for the anxiety or the existential dread that seems to find me often, but there is none. There’s relief and even some bliss. I’m still in shock that I just pushed this sophisticated, self-assured, delicious man to his breaking point. When I find him, he’s leaning on the passenger side of his car, arms crossed. He backs off as I approach.
“You can’t tell me I’m not a gentleman now,” he whispers in my ear, holding the car door open for me.
“Thank you.” I lean into his heated touch before lowering into the seat. Once he starts the car, he fumbles with his phone. Lord Huron plays softly on bluetooth.
“Wow, again, not bad for a forty-year-old.” I wink.
“I let your first burn slide, but what makes you think I’m forty?”
“I’m actually fucking with you. I know you’re thirty five.”
He turns with narrowed eyes. “And how would you know that?”
“I might have stalked you a bit.”
“Might have, huh?” He reaches over, his hand resting on my exposed knee. I could get used to this. His hand is on my knee. Such a small gesture feels so intimate, so natural. Christ, have I really been this starved for affection since what little I got from Julian ended? I don’t have to turn my head to feel his piercing gaze on me.
“Even if I’m not in my forties yet, I’m still too old for you, Olivia. We’re in different seasons. We have little in common.”
“You put on my favorite band without knowing it was my favorite band.”
“Everybody knows and loves Lord Huron. The young and elderly.”
“We workout and have the same coffee order.”
“You’re grasping at straws.”
I shrug. “We want to fuck each other senseless. How much do we need in common to act on that? I mean, I already have you pegged as skittish. I don’t see this going much further than what your morality chain will allow for us.”
“Always the voice of reason, Miss Hamilton.”
Chapter Twelve
Tomas
Thisisawholenew level of fucked.Every intention I had about keeping my word and staying disciplined is a distant memory as I see Olivia reveling in the brightest post-orgasm afterglow I’ve ever seen. Her eyes shine brightly, albeit with a hint of sleepiness, despite the soft hue of the restaurant.
“You’re an only child, too?” She wipes her mouth between a mouthful of steak.
“Yep. How do you think I became interested in research? Nothing to do otherwise.” I pick at my potatoes, enjoying the meandering conversations.
“Relatable. I’ve always been an avid reader. I’m not necessarily a researcher for fun, although I enjoy it.”
“What do you read?” I ask. Two beats pass as she turns her signature bashful pink. She swallows the mouthful of spinach, then takes her time with a large sip of water. I don’t know what kind of answer she has in store for me, but I’m certainly curious now.
“Romance,” she says lightly, as she immediately picks up the water she just set down. I watch her hold it to her mouth, not entirely convinced that she’s actively drinking and just buying time.
“Why are you embarrassed by that?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
“I mean, it’s not exactly deep reading material most of the time.”
I shrug. “And? People play sports and video games for fun. Why downplay it?” She sits frozen, still blushing.
“What? Is it erotica?” I ask softly. She props her elbows on the table and leans into her hands as her hair falls around her. I slide into the booth next to her. When I peel away her hands, she’s the pinkest I’ve seen yet and half-smiling, half-cringing.
“Ah, should’ve guessed after we just had one of the hottest sexual encounters I’ve ever seen.” Even if Olivia hadn’t begged me to join her in the shower, her blatant invitation and her little exhibitionist show were so sexy that I was considering asking her to do it again. Surprise registers in her eyes at my words.
