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“What’s up with you? You’re friends with Janice?”
“Yeah, and Candace. We work together.”
“Cool. I’m a freelance graphic artist who atte
nds spoken word performances in his spare time.” He laughed. “Actually, that’s not true—my roommate was reading tonight, and I came to support him.”
“Good for him,” I said.
His eyes wandered from my face as he appraised me, and I could see the spark of interest in his gaze. The person I used to be would have taken him home. The person I used to be wouldn’t have hesitated to try to use a new body to push away her fixation on Jason’s.
The person I used to be wouldn’t have had a fixation on any guy in the first place.
I was a different person now, one who only had to have the barest thought of Jason’s name for my whole body to start yearning for him.
“I was just about to leave,” I told Zane, trying to look apologetic. I appreciated Janice trying to set me up with someone to get my mind off Jason, but it just wasn’t going to happen.
“Do you still live in the same apartment?” Zane asked.
I shook my head. “I moved.”
“Okay.” He looked around. “I was about to leave too. Shaz—that’s my roommate—is probably going to be here for a while. Mind if we go down together?”
“No, of course not.” I forced a smile then went to say goodbye to Candace. I met Zane at the door, and we took the elevator to the ground floor.
“You’re walking?” he asked.
“Yup. I’m just a few blocks away.”
“My ride will be here in a couple of minutes. You want me to cancel and walk with you?”
I smiled. He was sweet, but I wasn’t there yet. “Nah, don’t. I’m fine.”
“I deleted your number,” he said.
I chuckled. “I don’t blame you, Zane. I didn’t take your calls, didn’t reply to your messages…I’d have deleted my number too.”
“Yeah…” he said slowly, “but I’d like to call you if you don’t mind.”
My first instinct was to say no. What was the point of encouraging him when I couldn’t go two seconds without thinking about Jason?
But maybe that was the point. Maybe giving some time to another guy would help me go those two seconds and maybe more.
I called out my number, and he entered it on his phone. Just then his ride arrived, and he waved to me before entering the car.
My phone buzzed.
You were the sexiest girl at the party tonight.
I smiled. Two seconds. Maybe I was making progress.
That sense of triumph lasted until I got home, opened the door, and saw Jason on his haunches, working with a screwdriver on what seemed like a pile of black metal. His white shirt was stretched over his back, showing the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his body. He set the tool aside and rose up to his full height then bent over, giving me a perfect view of his firm ass as he lifted the black metal thingy upright.
Why did he have to be so sexy, so spectacularly, undeniably masculine that I only had to look at him to start thinking of sweet, no-holds-barred, dirty sex?
“What are you doing here?” I asked rudely, shutting the door behind me.
He turned around and gave me a once-over from beneath raised brows. “Hi, Daphne. How are you? Did you have fun at your party? Meet anyone interesting?” He rattled off the questions as if I needed a lesson in politeness.
