“Sure.” She shrugs out of her jacket, leaving it on the dining table instead of the hook beside the door. When August does that shit, it bugs me. When Loren does it, I find it endearing.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m going to hang it up the moment I get a chance. But I appreciate her chaos.
I grab two beers from the fridge and set them on the counter.
She wraps her hands around her bottle but doesn’t drink. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Thankyoufor coming tonight.”
Her blush is the prettiest shade of pink before she decides to hide it behind her hands. “I can’t believe that actually happened.”
“Why?”
“Look at you. You’re like… a Nashville nine and I’m an Oakton seven.”
I’ve never been to Oakton, but there is no town on earth where she is a seven. It kills me that she looks down on herself so much. “Only a nine, huh? Ouch.”
“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. A ten is perfection and nobody is perfect.”
“That pocket of yours might disagree.”
She drops her hands in favor of her beer, drinking until the bottle is half empty before setting it down to pick at the corner of the label. “Why did you come to the bar tonight?”
So many reasons. “August claims I have a hero complex. I see a woman in distress and must jump in to save her.”
“Oh…”
Except tonight didn’t have anything to do with that.
Tonight was about something else entirely.
It was about giving Loren Piper a reason to stay.
Being vulnerable terrifies me. When you bring a woman home for the night, the transaction ends the next morning. With Loren, she’ll still be here tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.
Hopefully, anyway.
I’ve only ever been completely vulnerable with one other person, and that relationship crashed and burned.
But I think this is what she needs. She puts herself out there, consequences be damned. Heart on her sleeve and all that nonsense. From what I’ve gathered, the guys she’s dated in the past haven’t done the same for her.
We might not technically be dating, but I refuse to be lumped into the same category as everyone else.
“But August is an idiot. I think it’s because I’ve had a crush on you since the moment you rocked up in those orthopedic shoes.”
“They’re not ortho—wait.Youhave a crush onme?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t slip my hands into just anyone’s pockets.”
A smile curves her lips. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since you gave me that beer on the balcony.”
“While you were with Josh? Little devil.”
“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
She sits in silence, sipping and scraping at the label while I watch a myriad of emotions play out on her face. After a solid five minutes, she nods to herself and our gazes connect once more. “So what do we do now?”
What a loaded question—one I’m not prepared to answer without a little more information. “What do you want to do?”
