What I actually say is, “You…want me…to move to West Virginia?”
“Yes. Drop everything, and come home with me,” he murmurs, three thousand percentconcerning,according to my scale, which should only go up to one hundred.
I did not know we were serving hard liquor here. Not that Lukas’s breath smells like any alcohol…but still. He has to be drunk, right? I’m almost positive this isn’t how you’re supposed to pick up girls. Not that I’ve found myselfpicked upby anyone who seems like they’d do it correctly. Random men’s tendencies to corner me and try to get me to agree to things I don’t want to is largely why I make such a point of not going outside, where it’s scary.
I should have known better than to think I’d be safe tonight. Chilly September evenings at big parties are never safe.Someone’s always just out of sight, lying in wait to pop out and promise tokeep you warmas though you aren’t perfectly capable of getting a coat all by yourself.
Twining my fingers together in front of my apron, I murmur, “That’s a…very flattering proposition.” He’s joking. He must be joking. Inviting me into the back of his tour bus for a few hours is very different from asking me to go across state lines with him. Do I laugh?
I should probably laugh.
Except…he doesn’t exactly seem to be joking.
I slash my attention down his body, across the ridges of his abs, and go a little weak from the vibrations. Gracious. Looking at his muscles is like hitting a rumble strip on the interstate.
“Are you…checking me out?” he asks, brow arched.
I toss my head back, eyes away,off, innocent. “Wh-what?”
He hums, contemplating, then decides, “You can stare at me as long as you’d like if you come home with me.”
I donotwant to stare. I donotwant to go home with him.
My heathen eyes, however…Theywant to stare. And my pitiful body? Well, we don’t need to talk about what it wants. Ever. It’s insane and should not be trusted. It’s hyped up on hormones and other such unreliable drugs. It’syearninglike a demented touch-starved creature entirely oblivious to the danger before it. It’s too busy relishing the attention of someone beautiful to entertain a single logical thought.
After years and years of my best “offers” being from random strangers on the street, creepy old men at work, or unattractive guys around my age, there’s an allure to this specific petition that makes my problem with sayingnoten times harder.
I don’t know how to turn my boss down when she asks me to help with the catering crew. I sure don’t know how to turn down Lukas Bachelor—theKing. His voice alone is a narcotic, seeping into my veins, turning off my frontal lobe, coaxing me towardhallucinations of wild abandon and adventure, of mere moments where I can pretend something about me is good enough for someone better than the creeps I’m used to.
This is a recipe for disaster, embarrassment—maybe legal action? I don’t know how, but I’m positive if I agree, I’m going to mess up and get myself sued.
“Sayyes, cupcake,” he whispers, sweetly.
Cupcake?
That’s really so painfully cute. Rumbled in his low, sultry voice,cupcakeis the sexiest endearment I have ever heard in my life. Not only that, it fits me. It fits me so well my stupid brain wants to believe it’s because he sees something beyond my body, something about me that’s real. It’s insane. It’s idiotic.
But I’m…
I’m desperate for something like that, I think.
And this moment feels just fantasy enough to make me believe in the magic of possibly being wanted for more than the physical.
On a good day, my willpower is weak, but this? This istorture.
“I-I’d have to talk to my family,” I whisper.
“Abandon them.”
My heart lunges up my throat, and my eyes dart back to his. McScuse me?
Smile taunting, he ups theconcerninglevels beyond three thousand percent. “You don’t need them anymore.” His muscles flex as he leans in, even closer, lips near my ear. “Only me.”
I do fear that isn’t an entirely correct statement, actually?
Yet when he presents it in hisvoice, it’s sounding a whole lot like scientific fact.
“M-M-Mr. Bachelor, sir,” I squeak, but I don’t know what else I’m trying to say.
