“I’m sorry, I just?—”
But then he tugs me toward him, his lips slamming against mine once more. It feels so good to have someone touching me again, but there’s no spark there, not for me anyway. We kiss for a while longer, breaking apart awkwardly.
“Issac...I don’t think this will work.”
Issac steps back, eyes searching mine as he nods.
Why don’t I want him?
“Oh.”
“It’s not because of Blake.”
Issac looks at me hopefully, his hand reaching out to capture mine. “Then give us a chance to get to know each other.”
I find myself nodding, and he waves at my wet shirt.
“Maybe you should go and change, or I’m not going to be able to think straight.” He laughs.
“Okay, give me a minute. Grab some wine if you want some.”
Issac wanders into the kitchen, and I hurry into my bedroom, peeling off my wet clothes. I opt for a baggy white tee-shirt, not attempting to be sexy.
Fucking Blake James.
My ex-turned-soon-to-be-husband.
Issac is a gorgeous guy with a kind heart and a great sense of humor. Maybe this is what I need: the slow burn instead of the instant ignition of love flames.
Ihaveto give him a chance.
When I re-enter the lounge, I find Issac sitting on the sofa, one arm thrown across the back, the other nursing a glass of wine. He glances up at me, a playful smile on his lips.
“Do you look bad inanything?”
“Are you flirting with me?” I laugh, taking a seat beside him.
Issac hands me my glass of wine, and our fingers brush against one another. “Yeah, I am. Is it any good?”
This breaks the ice, and the conversation flows, as does the wine.
“Tell me about you,” I request, watching as Issac rests his elbows on his knees, an amused look on his face.
“I’ve got two brothers and a sister.”
Tucking my feet under my knees, I rest my face in the palm of my hand, listening to Issac.
“I grew up not far from here and left school with every intention to move to New York City. I wanted to be a big shot Wall Street guy.”
“Really?”
Issac laughs, easing back into the chair. “Yeah, it was that or join the mafia, and I didn’t have any connections.”
I snort into my wine glass, and he gasps.
“Are youlaughingat me?”
Running my finger around the rim of my glass, I meet his eyes. His electric green eyes.
