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“Wallowing,” I corrected. “All alone in a sad pit of despair.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, not with anger or annoyance but with mischief. My relief was palpable. We could reset, just like last time. It wasn’t too late. These hard feelings could go away, if only I forced them to.
He looked away, back to scanning the lobby. “Right. If someone asks, you can tell them you spent the evening like you usually do, brainstorming new ways to torment me.”
“Andyouspent the night alphabetizing your ties by brand while imagining what it would be like to have a friend.”
His mouth tightened. His brown eyes pierced me. “Is that what you think I need? A friend?”
“You’re right. I can’t imagine you with a friend. You need a henchman. A three-headed dog to help warn people away.” I tapped my chin as I hummed in thought. “What would you name it ...”
He tilted his head, watching me with an expression that said,By all means, continue.
“Cole Jr.”
He couldn’t keep the amusement off his face. He wasn’t laughing. No, no. That would be preposterous. But he was looking down at me like he thought I was absolutely fantastic. That, or deranged. It was hard to tell.
“You left your shoes on the beach when you ran off last night. I left them by your door. Figured you wouldn’t be able to survive without your beat-up hiking sandals ...”
He stared pointedly down at my feet, and I clicked my heels together like Dorothy.
I was wearing asecondpair of beat-up sandals. For the record, I have this exact style in three colorways; I hate that he probably knows that.
“I’m surprised you didn’t keep them for yourself as a little memento from the best night of your life.”
His eyebrows shot up.“Best night?”
It looked as though he was considering the possibility for a moment before eventually casting it aside. He merely shrugged. “It was informative.”
Informative, my ass. HIS MOUTH WAS ON MY ...
I lifted my chin, threw back my shoulders, and donned my armor. “Informative,yes. Just for the record, you kiss ... differently than I was expecting.”
He frowned, eyeing me speculatively. “In what way?”
“I don’t know ... it’s hard to explain.”
I desperately wanted to look at his full, pouty lips, but that would surely give away my X-rated thoughts, so instead, I looked down at his hand and remembered how intoxicating it felt when he used it to haul me against him. He has quite the grip strength. Who knew?
Beneath my careful scrutiny, his hand flexed, and then he tucked it away into his suit-pants pocket as if it were giving away all his dark, sordid secrets. Those hands did a lot of his dirty work last night. I remember what it felt like when he slid down the strap of my bra, when his fingers bit into my skin, when he cupped my breast and toyed with my—
“Sorry I’ve ruined you for all other men,” he quipped, tugging me back to the present.
I shot him a glare. “Ha ha.Hardly.”
His head tilted as he studied me. “Your cheeks are flushed.” Realization dawned, and I could feel the energy shift between us as he regained the upper hand. “Are you thinking back on it right now?At work?How depraved ...”
I pressed my hands to my face,Home Alonestyle, to conceal the evidence. “I walked briskly on my way here. That’s why I’m flush. Last night? Pfft. I barely remember any of it.”
“Liar.”
Of course I was lying. I could recreate the entire night from beginning to end with painstaking detail. The moonlight reflected in Cole’s brown eyes. The gentle pressure of his lips on mine. The slow teasing warmth that spread through my body, a promise of what was to come.
I shivered, and he saw it. The edge of his mouth moved, and I couldn’t stand it—him circling the truth, so close to stealing the innermost part of me. I took a step closer, grabbed his tie, and yanked it so it was just slightly askew. God, it felt good. Juvenile, yes, but we were far beyond acting our age at this point.
“Nothing happened,” I reminded him, effectively ending the conversation like I was slamming together two sides of a heavy book just as I’d gotten to the good part. I was going to climb to the top shelf in the library, way up high near the ceiling where the cobwebs cover thespines of the books. I’d find a dark spot, and I’d shove our book there, hiding it away once again.
His shoulders stiffened, and he looked away with a firm set to his jaw. “Exactly.”
