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Adrian runs a hand through his hair, causing pieces to fall into his face and covering his eyes. He lets out a long sigh. “We’d been on again off again for months,” he tries to explain, “trying to decide if we could make it work.”
“I think you made a decision the minute you took me home.”
At least Adrian has the good sense to look remorseful.
“I made that decision the moment you walked in the bar,” he says, jarring me. I don’t know if I can believe him but he’s very convincing, making me wonder if it even really matters.
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I’m not that guy,” he says with frustration, and then he stands in front of me, feet apart, with those eyes that never waver. “I meant what I said that night. That’s not something I usually do.”
“And I do?” I cock my head to the side, offended.
“That’s not how I meant it,” Adrian explains and shakes his head. “I have sisters.”
I can see the sincerity in his eyes, not to mention witnessing how much his sisters adore him, but there’s just one thing.
“None of this really matters anyway,” I explain, shaking my head. “One-night stands are just that, one night,” I clarify, but here he is, the guy that kissed me in the rain, the stranger that made me feel – for one night – that I was something more than just someone’s mother, someone’s boss, or even someone’s sister.
Adrian relaxes, leaning against the door jamb. “Did you really think I could be a serial killer?” he asks, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile.
“You still could be,” I say, lifting my chin. “Just because you’re Laura’s brother doesn’t mean anything. I’ve seen true crime dramas.”
He moves imperceptibly closer to me, the scent of his cologne becoming stronger, his eyes pinning me when he says, “If I were a serial killer, you probably wouldn’t have been allowed to sneak out of my apartment in the middle of the night.”
The room feels hot as I let my eyes travel down his sharp jawline to the tattoo snaking up his neck and knowing that it curves around his broad shoulder, down his back and over his ribs. He steps forward, capturing me with his eyes and pinning me with his body.
“Do I make you nervous, Lake?” he asks, making me swallow hard. “You were hoping you’d never see me again? Is that it?”
“Exactly.”
“And why is that,” His finger gently travels down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, “when you seemed to enjoy your birthday present so much?” Adrian’s lip pulls up at the corner.
“How did you…” I pinch my eyebrows together.
“My sister,” he explains.
“Of course,” I grumble. “Well, don’t act so fucking smug about it,” I say, annoyed that he’s able to get under my skin.
“Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me.” His eyes travel to the pulse in my neck.
Ihavebeen thinking about him.
A bead of sweat forms in the hollow, and his eyes follow as it falls below the neckline of my dress. He licks his lips, and the action causes my stomach to tighten. “Because I sure asfuckhave been thinking about you.”
That’s lie number four.
With hooded eyes he stares down at me, his lips hovering close to mine, and I suck in a breath the minute his hip presses into me; knowing exactly how it would feel to kiss him, to sink into those soft lips, to feel the dominant way he slips his tongue into my mouth, scares me.
And I don’t scare easily.
My phone vibrates between us, causing me to come to my senses. I slide away from him, putting the phone to my ear.
“Where are you?” Georgie’s shrill voice says on the other end. “I’m in the lobby.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I say, my eyes never leaving his.
Hanging up the phone, I notice he’s still blocking my exit.
