Still, I can hear him saying,They don’t stick around because I don’t want them to.
He’s made no secret of wanting to stay single—to take what he needs from people who won’t ask anything from him in return.
But where does he get off assuming I want something more?
I’m not exactly known for my long-lasting relationships either.
My mind inconveniently reminds me of those MASH games in my notebook. My brother Rowan saw them. And even though he’s younger than me, he actually tried to sit me down and give me a talking-to about what boys like Cole Garrison wanted from girls. I don’t think he expected me to say, “God, I wish.”
Still…
“You’re not immune to me,” I accuse.
“Not for lack of trying,” Cole says. Then he taps me on the nose again before he heads down the hall to the bathrooms, the bastard.
I take a big bite of cake, because at least cake can’t reject me, and I let myself sulk a little.
Really, talk about shit birthdays.
Then I hear a buzzing from my bag and take out my phone to see I’m getting a call from Rowan. Fantastic.This means that news of our birthday dinner has already spread. Hell, for all I know, Auggie and Greg the Tall Wall are kareoke-ing about it at Ziggy’s.
I lift the phone to answer his call, but Laura, who seems to have a sixth sense for annoying me, scurries over and says, “I hope you don’t intend to answer that at the bar. We have a strict no talking on cell phones rule.”
“I don’t believe you,” I say, glowering.
She just stares at me with her lips pressed into a tight, bloodless line, and since I’d rather not ask to talk to the manager—he’d probably want to discuss Auggie—I sigh, give her a dirty look, and close the lid of the cake box. “Donoteat my cake.”
“Why would I eat your cake?” she asks, as horrified as if I’d suggested chowing down on a bowl full of worms.
“Because it’s delicious,” I say, giving her a haughty look.
And because Cole ate some.
“And don’t spit in it either,” I add. “If you do, I’ll know. I developed an app to identify human spit on food items.”
Complete BS, but from the somewhat alarmed look on her face, I think she believes me. Something tells me the cappuccino will be gone by the time I get back from the hallway.
The phone’s not even ringing anymore, but my brother is nothing if not persistent, so I sigh and bring my phone into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, stepping to the left of the big mirror in the middle so I don’t have to look at myself while I call him.
But before I can lift the phone to my ear, Cole steps out of the door to the men’s room.
Something changes in his gaze as he takes me in, his eyes sweeping over me like they’re predators who intend to swallow me whole.
Yes, please.
Moving subconsciously, my attention fixed on him, I tuck the phone into my bag.
“You followed me,” he says, taking two steps toward me, his big body crowding me against the wall. I can feel the heat of him. I can smell him too—spice and hops and man. Pure lust shivers and sizzles through me.
“I—” I begin, ready to object. To give him some snappy comment that ends with “you wish.”
But maybe he’s a smart man after all, because he grabs my hip and pulls me to him, his other hand propping against the wall. His whole body seems to be on fire, and I feel his hardness pressed against me.
Well, fuck. If he does have something funny going on below the belt, it’s certainly not in the size department.
“You want me, Holly?” he asks, his voice gruff. His eyes are boring into me, and there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s staring. It’s potent and sexy, and hot enough that I’m surprised there’s no smoke rising up between us.
My response is to lift onto my toes and kiss him, hard. He makes a little sound into my mouth, like the one he made when he tried that cake, and I swallow it. The hand he had on the wall moves to the base of my neck, and he brings me closer as he changes the tilt of our mouths so we can consume more of each other, our lips at war as much as our words always are, and I don’t think I’ve ever, ever kissed anyone like this.
