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“Yeah. You should feel special since I don’t do glee.”
Her small laugh faded fast. For good reason. He couldn’t expect to be out of the doghouse with a hasty, questionably funny song.
“Last night was—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head.
“I’m gonna,” he informed her. She sucked in a breath that she let out in a huff and he continued. “Last night was good, Pres. Better than good. I wasn’t prepared for...how good.”
Meaning: the blast from the past that was Presley Cole had carried with it a truckload of memories.
“And because I wasn’t prepared, I wasn’t ready to deal with the crap that came up. Including you talking about those days again. And how I deal with my family. My defenses climbed sky-high and I blew it big-time. Laid in my bed and swore and stared at the ceiling long after watching you walk away.”
“You did blow it,” she murmured after a beat.
“I know.” He rested his arm on his guitar. “Hope you don’t regret it, though.”
“I don’t.” She lifted her chin.
He could have guessed. She was strong. Strong enough to deal with the fit he’d pitched.
“I pried, though, and I shouldn’t have. Insatiable curiosity is one of my traits. Not a great one.”
She had that backward. He was the insatiable one when it came to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just...being me,” he finished lamely. He thought he’d be able to ignore their past, but when she’d mentioned “Lightning,” he realized that was an impossibility.
He strummed the strings on his guitar and clumsily sang, “Come with me to a Fourth of July party. On Friday, Friday. Yeah, on Friday.”
She raised her eyebrows. “For real?”
“For real.” He continued strumming nothing in particular. “There’s a party at Mags’s mansion before the fireworks. After, we’ll take the boat out, watch them light up the lake.”
Will had called to ask if he’d like to join, along with Hannah, Hallie and Gavin on his boat, but Cash had declined. Then Luke had asked if Cash wanted to join him on his boat, and Cash had declined that invite, too. Reason being, he wanted to show Presley the lake and the fireworks and, if he could get her to forgive him, he preferred to be alone with her on his own boat.
He hadn’t told his brothers that part.
He kept strumming. “The party will be a pain but after, you can change out of your formalwear. We’ll have the boat to ourselves. Fireworks overhead.”
“Formalwear?”
“Formalwear. Mags,” he explained, which was the entire explanation.
“I love fireworks.”
“I know.” He stopped playing. Her eyes went to his hands on the guitar.
“I liked the part where you admitted you were mean.”
“Figured you might.”
“The coffee was a nice touch.”
“Figured you’d think so.”
“I don’t want to fight with you while I’m here.” She sighed. “But I’d like to keep doing what we were doing. If you’re willing.”
His mouth dried out. He’d hoped she’d accept his apology. Hoped he could convince her to attend the party with him. And yeah, he’d hoped he could have sex with her again. Eventually. He hadn’t expected to be propositioned, which she did next.
“Are you? Willing?” She set her coffee mug on the nightstand.
