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Our project manager comes up an hour later to look at our progress. He gives us further instructions, and thirty minutes later, I’m dropping her off. The gentleman in me opens the passenger side door, helps her out, and walks her to her apartment. I want another kiss or maybe ask her out. I slide my fingers from her shoulder to her hands, but she doesn’t latch on.
Great. She’s already reconsidering the kiss and me.
“Thanks for driving me and umm… we should exchange numbers since we’re partners and all.” Her voice is faint, and her eyes narrow slightly. She holds her cell as I type in my contact information.
“Call me.”
I turn the knob and push it open. Adalee closes the door behind me with a nod.
The ball is in her court. I’ve only reached my car when she calls and immediately hangs up, ensuring that I have her number.
Baby steps.
ChapterThirteen
Adalee
Hagan Chatham.His lips floated over mine like they were weightless. Using my index finger, I skim my lips, memorizing the feeling, but it’s not the same. When he said I was sexy, my ovaries burst open, ready to have his children. No one has ever described me as sexy. God, it sounded so smooth coming from Hagan’s mouth. A little part of me is in denial—refusing to believe that Hagan could want me and no one else.
That’s where the trouble is—him wanting me, as in exclusive. Guys like him aren’t into monogamy.
I change into comfy clothes. Nothing feels better than a pair old, thin yoga pants and T-shirt with bursting holes at the seams. Staying the same size is a perk of being a gymnast.
I make a snack and sit on the couch to work on an assignment for a different class. Concentrating on a research paper isn’t happening though. I check my phone ten times, hoping for a text from Hagan but then I remember, he gave me his number.
I chuckle inwardly at how he knew just what to do to make me putty in his hands—the soft, lingering kiss, the gentle caress of his fingers.
He gave me his number—pitching me the ball—it’s up to me whether to swing.
Me:This is Adalee. Wanted to remind you to call Hap. 3-5 is Hap time.
Hagan:Thanks, getting ready to call her now.
Me:Oh, okay. Good.
Hagan:You. That kiss. Needs to happen again.
Me:You shouldn’t have done that when you obviously have a girlfriend.
Dots disappear and reappear. Yeah, Hagan let’s see you explain this one.
Hagan:Nope, no girlfriend.
Now it’s my turn to sit and stew on his line of dishonesty. You don’t call a girl and talk for two hours if she’s not your girlfriend. Finally, I text back, noticing it is 2:58 and there won’t be time for much back and forth.
Me:You never answered me when I asked, “How sexy?”
I can’t believe I’m being forward, but he brings it out in me.
Hagan:Come over, I’ll tell you.
Me:You’re such a Casanova. Can’t anyway because you’re busy for the next two hours.
Hagan:I’ll order food from that all natural place. Hell, I’ll come get you at 5.
Me:No can do. One kiss doesn’t make us a couple.
Hagan:No, it doesn’t. I have to make that call.
