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I pivot, stalk over to where her bag lies on the ground and pick it up, dust it off, then turn and bump into her.
She stumbles. I grip her shoulder to right her, and sparks of heat vibrate up my arm. I draw in a breath, and the scent of cherries teases my nostrils. My belly hardens. My cock lengthens.Jesus fucking Christ.
All these years later, and she still smells divine. She smells like the tastiest morsel ever. The kind I can’t wait to sink my teeth into. The kind I can’t wait to tear into and destroy. It’s exactly what will happen if I ever get my hands on her. It’s why I need to stay the fuck away from her.
I release her so suddenly, she stumbles. My body leans toward her, wanting to support her, but I force myself to take a step back. Then another. Putting enough distance between us so I can no longer smell her. Too bad, this urge to lick her mouth, to bury my teeth in the skin where her shoulder meets her neck, can’t be suppressed as easily. Too bad, she grew up to be so gorgeous. So beautiful. The most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen. Too bad, I’ll never let myself have her. I drag my fingers through my hair, and she gasps.
"Cade, oh, your poor knuckles." She reaches for me.
I slap her hand away. "Don’t."
She pales, and the color of her pupils turns a pale green, like young leaves on a shoot, like new moss climbing up a garden wall, like fresh grass on a summer day. Like the most precious of jade stones. I thrust the bag at her, and she grasps it to her chest.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snap.
She opens and shuts her mouth, then color rushes back into her cheeks. "What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?"
"How dare you walk on the street so late at night?"
"It’s nine p.m."
"You should be home by now," I say through gritted teeth.
Her lips firm. "Who’re you to tell me what to do?"
"Someone who’s known you for a long time."
She scoffs. "I haven’t seen you in years. Speaking of—" She narrows her gaze. "What are you doing here?"
"Would you believe me if I said I happened to be in the neighborhood?"
"How did you know I live here?" she shoots back.
"I didn’t." I raise a shoulder. "I really did happen to be passing by and saw you."
"And you expect me to believe that?"
"Believe anything you want, so long as—" I walk past her and to the car that’s drawn up by the curb. I open the door of the backseat and beckon to her. "Get in."
She stiffens. "Like hell, I will."
I blow out a breath. "Why are you so stubborn?"
"Why are you lying to me?"
"I’m not."
"So, you turn up in East London and just happen to be passing by the tube station when you see me?" She makes a disbelieving sound.
I tilt my head. "What are the odds, huh?"
She narrows her gaze. "How did you know I was here?"
"I didn’t. I’m here to pick up a friend and—"
"A friend?" Her brows knit. "You mean a girlfriend?"
"A girl who happens to be my friend, yes," I say slowly.
