Zach groans and leans his elbows on his knees, studying me. “Did you just use the word ‘woo’?”
Fucker’s laughing at me. I don’t care. “Yeah. Our dynamic was fucked up. She came onto me, and I froze and ran. It’s my turn to chase her.”
“So you just decide to go after her? What about the freezing?”
“I’ll figure it out. I spoke complete sentences tonight, didn’t I? This is too big for me to keep acting like a pussy.”
“I don’t disagree, but it sounded like Cara was pretty done with you. Do you really think you can change her mind?”
“You tell me? You’re the one who’s been taking me to the fucking clubs, trying to help me build my confidence. Am I going to be able to change her mind?”
He winces. “It’s completely different. You have no trouble getting those women wrapped around your finger. You have no history, and most of them came around because they smelled money when we walked in.”
He’s not wrong. Cara is in a completely different league, and I clearly have a lot to fucking learn.
“Dec...maybe trying to build your confidence the way we did was a mistake. Maybe you should treat this like one of your projects. You’re a single-minded bastard when you’re digging for dirt on those computers of yours. What if you turn that focus to learning, Cara?”
“Like, dig into her life. Wouldn’t that be—“
“Not on your computer, dipshit. In real life. Get to know her, pay attention, be present.” He rises, moving to the railing, mimicking Cara’s earlier pose. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way you seem to want Cara, so I shouldn’t be giving you advice. But I will. Anything you picked up from me at the clubs...ignore it. What I do at those clubs has nothing to do with love...at least, not the kind you’re talking about. Now,” he says, rubbing his hands together, “I’ve got a gold goddess to meet. I’ll find my own way home.”
And he’s gone, weaving through the crowd, eyes locked with the woman in gold from earlier. To each his own, I suppose. Not nearly enough curves there for me, though. Shaking my head, I scan for our waitress, signaling her over to switch out my drink order. I’m in it for the long haul tonight.
I SPEND THE NEXT FEW HOURS SIPPING SODA AND RESEARCHING CLUB DESIGN ON MY PHONE. THE MORE I learn, the more I understand why Zach was so impressed. She’s designed this whole place to make people collide, but in a good way. Forcing them to rub up on each other and interact with each other. It’s brilliant, and I had no idea it was a fucking thing.
I somehow know it every time Cara’s near. We make eye contact several times throughout the night, her gaze getting more and more puzzled. As the lights go up and people pour out, I make my way to the bar and sit at the end.
The very large bartender stops wiping down bottles, moving to me. “Sorry, buddy. Time to go home.”
I nod. But don’t take my eyes off Cara. “I’m waiting for Cara. I’ll walk her out when she’s ready.”
He frowns, moving back to the other end of the bar to talk to her. There’s a lot of head shaking, and she scowls my way a few times, but I hold fast. I’m not going anywhere. I need to talk to her one more time.
She doesn’t rush. She doesn’t look my way again. She just goes about her business, doing what she has to do. I expected nothing else from her. Finally, she comes toward me with her jacket and purse. I half expected her to disappear on me when she headed down the hallway. I’m glad now I didn’t act like a suspicious fuck and follow her. I really fucking wanted to.
I rise, putting my hand on her back as we walk out. I’m not imagining the subtle jolt that goes through her when I do. She’s not as unaffected by me as she seems, and I almost fold in relief. There’s a chance. She’s not completely done with me. I hope.
The valet has our cars waiting, my black car behind her sexy white GR86. I thought I’d get a little more fucking time. But I’m not letting her leave without saying my piece. I’ve been fucking practicing. Time to man up.
“Cara.” I wait for her to look at me. “I wanted to say I’m sorry one last time. I shouldn’t have said what I said. My head was up my ass, but I think you deserve an explanation, as dumb as it might be.” Her eyebrows rise, and she folds her arms across her chest, hopefully because she’s cold and not because she’s done with me. I shift so my body’s blocking the wind, sheltering her. And I tell her every fucking thing in my head. I own every pathetic embarrassing bit of it.
“I’m not proud of this. But every time you said you were going to the club, I was jealous as fuck. I hated the idea that you were out dancing and flirting with other men.” I lock my eyes on the top of her head, ears hot. “I am not a smooth man. I don’t have game. And I will never be someone comfortable in this world. Knowing you were, just made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.” I peek at her wide blue eyes and finish. “I was really fucking pissed at myself for not asking you out. And that night, at the hospital, all of that jealousy and frustration poured out in an epic bout of jackassery.” Her lips quirk at jackassery. “I am really fucking sorry I was a dick. I wish I could tell you I didn’t mean it...but at the moment I did. I think we both know that. But I truly am sorry.”
I step back, taking my keys from the valet. “I fucked up, but I won’t again. I’ll spend however long it takes to make it up to you. I don’t want to lose you, and even though we’ll never be more, I can be a good friend if you just give me a chance.” I give myself a second to savor her wide, tired eyes and rosy cheeks before I turn and make my escape.
Maybe it’s cowardly, but I don’t want to give her a chance to tell me no. I don’t want to pressure her to give me another chance. Not yet. Not until I flesh out the rest of my wooing plans. But starting tomorrow —well, today— I’m going for shock and awe. And if I can’t change her mind, well, at least I’ll know I really fucking tried this time.
12
CARA
I squeeze in a couple of hours of sleep and am plagued by dreams of Declan. Sexy, annoying dreams. Trying to put him out of my mind and ignore the fact that I’ll see him any minute now, I stop abruptly in the doorway of my office. There are flowers on my desk. A wild explosion of color, only partially contained by the vase holding them. Tucked into the sweet-smelling array is a card. I stand there, staring a little too long. Finally, when Colton’s walked past my office three times, nosey bastard, I grab the card.
Cara,
I thought about getting you roses, but this arrangement seemed
more like you.
