Page 47 of Over Time Advantage

Exhaling a long breath as I try to rein in my carnal desires, I reluctantly say, “Tomorrow. Give me until then to think about things.”

Respecting my decision, he walks me to my door and gives me the softest, sweetest kiss goodnight. He runs the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “Tomorrow, angel face. I’ll call you.”

“Tomorrow,” I echo on a whisper, both loving and hating that he’s not pushing for more. Loving that he’s being respectful, hating that he’s not pushing me inside and bending me over my dining room table…while wearing the cowboy hat.

I walk inside, close the door, and fall back against it as I clutch my chest and attempt to calm my racing heart. That wasn’t easy. My body is thrumming for him, but I know I did the right thing.

I suppose I’ll get into bed and touch myself to yet another one of his workout videos, adding that epic kiss to my highlight reel. At least I won’t feel guilty about “cheating on Lloyd” while masturbating to visions of Jett, which I’ve done countless times in the past few months.

Walking upstairs to my bathroom, I get undressed and slip into sleep shorts and a flimsy, matching tank top I like to sleep in. I robotically wash my face and brush my teeth as I run through the evening in my head. He created the most perfect first date ever. He considered every single thing I’ve said to him over the past few months and poured it into this date. Every woman should feel as heard and seen as I did tonight.

I look at myself in the mirror, smiling as I run my fingers over my lips, remembering what his felt like pressed against them. I’m pretending to think about things when I know full well that I’m going to move forward with him. The pessimist in me fears heartbreak finding me again, but the optimist in me hopes this is different. I desperately want to give him the chance to prove me wrong that a man in his position can’t give me what I deserve.

The chemistry is undeniable. How can I possibly not see where this goes?

I’m lost in my thoughts when my doorbell rings. Who the hell is ringing my doorbell this late at night?

I pick up my phone and pull up my front door camera app. It’s Jett. I talk through the microphone. “Hello?”

He looks around until he finds the camera. Rubbing behind his neck, he gives me a sheepish smile and says, “It’s after midnight. It’s tomorrow.”

Looking at the watch sitting on my vanity, I see it’s exactly midnight. I can’t help but smile. He’s so adorable. So unashamedly anxious to spend time with me.

“That’s not exactly what I meant by tomorrow, Jett.”

He nods. “I know. I didn’t want the night to end. Can we…just spend some more time together? Coffee? Wine? A movie? Anything?” He gives me a hopeful expression.

I bite my lip, again feeling torn between my head and my body. “If I open that door, you and I both know what will happen, and it won’t entail coffee, wine, or a movie.”

His green eyes sparkle as he shrugs. “Would that be so bad?”

No, it wouldn’t.

Knowing the right answer, I reluctantly say, “Good night, Jett.”

He nods again, this time in resignation. “Yep. Good night. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He scratches his head and mumbles to himself, “Wait, am I allowed to call the next day? Do I have to wait longer?”

I let out a laugh. “Have you been asking people for dating advice?”

His eyes widen as if he didn’t realize he said those things out loud, where I could hear them. “Oh…umm…I just don’t want to mess things up more than I already have.”

He’s so damn cute.

“Anyway,” he continues, “have a good night. Sweet dreams, angel face. I know I’ll be dreaming of you.”

At that, he turns and walks back toward his car with his head down. I shamelessly stare at his perfect, muscular ass while he goes. I’d much rather be digging my nails into that ass than watch it leave my house.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why am I torturing both of us? Isn’t it inevitable at this point? It may not end well, but why am I denying myself something I desperately want? Don’t I want to know if this crazy connection we share translates to the bedroom?

I quickly make my way downstairs and run to the front door, swinging it open just as he’s about to get into his car.

His head jerks up at the intruding noise, and our eyes meet. He licks his lips. “You opened the door.”

I nod. “I did.”

“Does that mean⁠—”