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“Yes.” She smiles. “Let’s have dinner.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “I thought you’d never ask.” Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I pull up my contacts. “Let me get your number before I go.”
Shae takes my phone, puts her number in and hands it back.
“I’ll get ahold of you tomorrow.”
I’m halfway out her door when she stops me.
“Rex?”
I look back at her. Her eyes are wide, cheeks flushed, and her hair is a wild mess. She’s positively the most stunning creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Yeah?”
“Don’t fall for me, okay?”
Her words slice through me, because I’m not sure that’s a promise I can make. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve realized I have no control over my feelings where she’s concerned. But telling her that would likely send her running, so I do what any respectable man would do.
“You don’t have to worry about that, babe.”
“Good.” The husky sound of Shae’s voice makes it difficult to gather my willpower and walk out, but I do.
As I climb into my car, I stare up at her window before pulling away.
At twelve-thirty, I crawl into bed, grab my phone, and shoot Shae a quick text.
Me: It’s tomorrow.
Her reply is almost immediate.
Shae: So it is.
Me: Dinner tonight.
I watch those three little dots dance across the screen, waiting for her reply.
Shae: I can’t. I have plans. Monday?
Me: Can’t. Busy. Tuesday?
Shae: I’m all yours.
Damn right you are.
“How does this look?” I ask, twirling around to give JJ the full view of my dress.
I still can’t believe I agreed to have dinner with Rex. Okay, yes, I can. He’s hot as hell, an incredible kisser, and the guy can deliver an orgasm like nobody’s business.
I tried to say no to him the other night. I wanted to. But for the life of me I couldn’t get the words to come. He’s evoked emotions inside of me I haven’t felt for years. He made me feel cherished. Special.
Alive.
God, he made me feel alive.
I haven’t heard a word from him since he texted me early Sunday morning, and my anticipation about tonight is through the roof.
JJ glances up at me, shrugs, and continues reading the paper as if I don’t exist.
Growling in frustration, I yank the paper out of his hands. “You can’t possibly still be mad at me.”
