Page 38 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

17

KANNON

The ride back to Merritt’s place was slower than I would usually go, but I was enjoying the feeling of her pushed up against me way too much. I took the long way back, weaving through quieter streets, just to prolong things. Every turn brought her a bit closer, and with every bump, I felt her grip tighten. I knew it was just a reflex but I couldn’t help imagining it meant more.

We finally stopped in the driveway of her house. Neither of us made a move to get off the bike immediately. The engine ticked as it cooled, punctuating the silence.

She was the first to slide off. She unhooked the helmet strap and handed it to me. I hung it off the handlebar.

“You drive like a maniac,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve got no idea what reckless looks like. I was being tame.”

“Tame?” she repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You were leaning into those curves like you were auditioning for Fast and Furious.”

I grinned and followed her. I wasn’t sure why or what I was doing. This wasn’t a date. I didn’t need to walk her to the front door. But I did it anyway. I leaned against the wall while she slid the key in the lock. She pushed the door open, the creaky hinges squealing in protest.

“I would never push it too hard with precious cargo on the back,” I said.

Her eyes met mine, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. “Precious, huh?” she asked, her voice softening just a little.

I didn’t respond, mostly because I wasn’t sure how to without sounding like a complete idiot. Instead, I gestured to the door, which groaned like an old man on its hinges as she pushed it open wider. “I’ll grease those tomorrow.”

“Or now,” she said quickly, her words rushing out like she hadn’t thought them through.

I raised a brow but shrugged. “If that’s what you want, sure.”

“It’s been driving me crazy,” she said. “Although I guess it’s kind of like my own personal security alarm. No one is getting in here without waking the dead.”

“We should probably consider replacing the door,” I said. “It’s swollen and warped.”

“I thought about that,” she said.

I headed to her kitchen to grab some grease. The kitchen counter was serving as our catch all for the tools and items we needed to work in the house.

I carried the can back to the front door and quickly got to work on the hinges, wiping them down and spraying them until the door swung open and shut as smoothly as Merritt had kicked my ass at darts.

“Done,” I said, wiping my hands on a rag.

She gave me a small smile, her hands fidgeting at her sides. “Thanks, Kannon.”

“I’m always handy with the lubricant.” I put the can back and she groaned.

“You’re impossible,” she said. “I was going to ask if you want to stay for a glass of wine but now I’m not sure.”

I hesitated, knowing I should say no. It was late, and I didn’t trust myself around her—not after the way she’d been looking at me tonight. But I was weak when it came to Merritt. Always had been. And this was the first time she was extending an invitation. Turning it down might hurt her feelings. I didn’t want to risk her not asking again.

I could sleep later.

“One glass would be great,” I said.

I wasn’t a big wine drinker, but I had guzzled worse booze with much less attractive company. For Merritt, I would have accepted a glass of motor oil to extend our night together. Bad idea or not, she was my drug and I was addicted.

We walked back to the kitchen. She pulled a bottle from the fridge. She glanced over her shoulder, a tentative smile playing on her lips. “Hope you like red.”

“I’m more of a rosé fan but I suppose it will do,” I said in a haughty voice.

Her smile shone like the sun, melting me to the spot. She poured the wine into two plastic cups. “I didn’t know you were so fancy,” she said with a laugh.