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"That's it," I mumble to myself, grabbing my favorite jeans off the floor. "From now on, no more analyzing it as fake versus real." Yanking my pants up and grabbing a loose blouse, I pull it over my head and adjust the neck so one shoulder peeks out bare. "You, Nicole Clark, have a boyfriend, and that's all there is to it. Give it your all, and if anyone is falling, it's going to be him because you're that irresistible." I nod at my reflection, happy with my outfit. My long blond hair hanging in loose curls, framing my face. My eyes are bright, excited, and for once in too many months, not worried about a dang thing.
"From this day forward, you're going to give every day your all and not worry about the reality of your situation with Shane. Enjoy him, let him enjoy you, and take your life back."
I've totally got this.
I TOTALLY DON'T HAVE THIS.
Shane stands outside my apartment, the crappy lighting in the hallway hitting him like a spotlight. He's wearing what I'm starting to realize is pure him. Dress pants, nice shoes, and a black button-down. He's rolled the sleeves up, and his forearms look ridiculously sexy. He always looks hot, and I have a feeling he doesn't even try to be this mouthwatering.
Voices I didn't hear during my inspection of Shane filter through my brain. I watch as he turns his head, and even from the side, I can see his eyes narrow. I'm not sure which of my neighbors is keeping his attention, but there really isn't one who would be better than the other. When he looks back at me, I know he'll have questions about the seedy men who live on my floor.
"You look beautiful, cherie," he finally says, still not looking any less intimidating than he did when he looked over at the voice.
"You look pretty handsome yourself, starboy."
He shakes his head. Some of the harsh lines leaving when he smirks ever so slightly. "We need to work on that nickname. I'm not a starboy."
"How about pudding?"
"You call me that in public, and I'll pull you to the nearest closet and make it so you can't sit without remembering that I am not your pudding."
"Snuggums?" I question.
"If you're not hungry, you'll keep that up."
I cock my head. "Okay, I'm hungry, so I'll cross that off the list. But just out of curiosity, what would happen if I wasn't hungry?"
A wolfish grin takes over, and my knees grow week. "Then you could call me that bullshit again, and I would spend the night making sure you were pleasured hard but never let you come."
"Well, looks like snuggums just got the permanent marker crossed through it."
"I won't lose sleep over that," he grunts.
He steps to the side, letting me out into the hallway, and I turn and smile at the door while I lock up my apartment. While I wouldn't mind the whole nearest closet option, having him deny me an orgasm after I know just how good he is in bed? Yeah ... no.
"How was work today?" I ask, almost stumbling when he reaches out and takes my hand before turning and walking to the stairs that lead to the parking lot. I might have promised myself no more discussing fake and real, but if this is how he's going to act, I'm never going to be able to convince myself that any of this is fake. Dangerous might have been an understatement.
"Easier than last night."
He stops at his jet black BMW, the windows just as dark as the paint job, and opens my door for me. When I'm settled, he shuts the door softly, enveloping me in darkness as his scent fills my senses. I lean my head back and inhale deep, loving the earthy spice scent that is all his. I've never smelled anything better. Ever.
When his door opens, I sit a little straighter, not wanting him to see me all boneless and question me on it. When he starts the engine, the heavy purr makes me press my knees together. His large palm settles on my thigh a beat later, and I look over at him.
"Keep that up and we're back up those stairs."
I gulp, the sound loud in the closed space.
His hand tightens, and I lay mine on top of his. His nostrils flare, and I bet if I looked down, I could see I'm not the only one overwhelmed with need.
"First date," he strangely says, his fingers gripping my leg, my hand gripping his.
"Huh?"
"I don't have sex on the first date."
Bubbles of laughter dance up my throat, and I try but fail to suppress them. I lose his gaze when I keep laughing harder, my eyes watering. Not before I saw his handsome smirk, though.
"That's a good thing, sugar pie, since I'm not that kind of girl."
"Cross that one off too," he demands, no real heat in his words.
"I'll think about it."
"You do that, mon colibri."
When he pulls his hand free, I can't help the whine that escapes. He doesn't call me on it, but when the streetlight illuminates his face, I can see he isn't as immune as he might act. I watch out my window as he drives, the radio on low, and the silence comforting. It doesn't feel like a first date. Probably because we've already gone further than I have ever experienced with another person, doing things way out of order but in a comforting way. I'm glad nothing is normal about us because it makes the usual expectations less daunting. The need to do what I can to keep him interested isn't there. Not having that pressure, well, with that absent, I can be me without worrying about him calling in the morning.
"Have you been here before?"
His question breaks through my thoughts, and I look over.
"Ember dragged me a few weeks ago for lunch. It's really good."
"I heard it was good."
"It's always pretty crowded, though," I tell him, pointing out the windshield at the packed parking lot.
He remains silent, somehow finding a spot right near the front door and killing the engine. He looks over, a playful expression masking his normal indifference. "I happen to know that Lacey is having dinner here tonight. You ready to act like I'm the most irresistible man in the world?"
"Not even a hardship," I scoff, grinning.
"You aren't mad that I picked this place, knowing she would be here?" His question sounds more like a test for me than anything else.
I lift my shoulder. "Why would I be? If you're expecting some jealous outburst, you've got the wrong girl, tiger."
"Tiger?"
"Rawr," I joke with a wink.
He grunts, but I see his smile as he climbs out of the car. Before my hands can curl around the handle to let myself out, he's opening the door and offering his hand to help me. My sandals touch the ground a second before he pulls, careful of my head, and I stumble into his arms, looking up into his playful eyes.
"Keep being fucking cute and we won't make it long in here."
"I'm not doing anything," I answer.
