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“Would you knock it off?” He laughs.
Fine.
I lean forward and loop my arms around his neck, letting my head fall against his shoulder. I love the scent of his shampoo so much I close my eyes and inhale.
“Why are you being nice to me? I thought you were done with me.”
He shakes his head. “Not in this lifetime, Tate.”
“Oh yeah? You didn’t even look at me once all night.”
He snorts. “I couldn’t stop looking at you.”
I don’t lift my head. I just smile and keep my eyes closed.
“Was it fun to watch me wallow all by my lonesome?”
“Why were you sad tonight?”
I tighten my arms around him, but there’s no need. He has a firm grip on my thighs beneath the hem of my shorts. I’m not going anywhere.
“You know why,” I say in a hushed whisper.
Then, because he stays quiet and because maybe now is as good a time for honesty as any, I admit, “I almost wanted to cry when you didn’t take the seat by me at the table. You walked right by me and my heart just sank straight into my butt.”
Grant almost doubles over with laughter at this. It isn’t exactly what I was hoping for, but then I’m laughing too.
And then I’m admonishing him in what I hope is a punishing tone, but mostly it’s just filled with laughter. “Do not drop me, Grant Navarro. I might not be some fancy baseball player with hands that are insured for a million bucks, but I still don’t want any broken bones tonight!”
Somehow, we make it to my apartment building in one piece.
I tip my head to Howard, the doorman. “Good evening, Howard,” I say, as if this moment demands extreme pomp and circumstance. If I had a top hat, I’d doff it in his direction.
“Good evening, Ms. Tate.”
“A fine night for a piggyback ride, wouldn’t you say?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Need me to call the elevator?”
“I’ve got it,” Grant assures him, and in we go.
While we wait, I lean in to whisper in his ear. “Last time you accosted me in this very elevator. Do you remember?”
He adjusts his hold on my legs, innocently sliding his hands higher up my thighs. “Of course I remember.”
The doors open and we step inside.
“My butt cheeks were on that very rail, right there.”
“Keep talking about it and I’ll do it again.”
My heart thunders with the threat, but I don’t back down. I’m half human, half wine at this point; he doesn’t scare me.
“Remember what I said earlier about promises?” I taunt.
Suddenly he drops me and turns on me. I’ve done it now… Every ounce of playfulness is gone. His eyebrows are furrowed, his jaw is set with tension. I audibly gulp.
“I don’t like this game you’re playing,” he tells me. “I’ve been doing the best I can here.”
He pushes the number for my floor, and then the doors close and we’re enclosed in the small quiet space. This feels dangerous. We should have opted for the stairs.
“I’ve stayed away, haven’t I?” he continues.
I nod as he descends on me, crowding me into the side of the elevator.
“I haven’t messaged you, haven’t stolen your number out of Josh’s phone…”
I tremble. His eyes don’t seem so warm and welcoming in this light.
“I walked right past you at the table tonight instead of taking the seat beside you so I wouldn’t do something rash, like this.”
He’s got me backed into a corner now. I’m as small as a mouse. He takes my hips in his big hands and he grips them so tight I nearly wince. God, I love it. Then he tugs and I sway toward him.
“You don’t want me fighting for you, Tate. So, I’ve stayed away. I’ve been playing baseball and keeping my head down, but…you know what?” He gets a wicked gleam in his eyes, a cruel tilt to his mouth. “Tonight, if you weren’t drunk, I’d finish this game.”
We arrive on my floor just as I shake my head, assuring him, “I’m not drunk. Never have been. Don’t believe in it. There was actually water in that wine bottle. I’m Jesus in reverse.”
He rolls his eyes, cups me around the neck, and prods me out into the hallway like he’s my jailer.
“Keep moving. Come on.”
I’m already panicking over the thought that he’s about to leave me. Again again again. We get so close and then he’s ripped away from me. I can’t take it anymore. “So that’s it?! You’re not going to take advantage of me even though I wholeheartedly agree to it?! I’ll put it in writing. Hand me a piece of paper. I’ll sign whatever you want. You got a pen?”
“Tate, unlock the door. No—actually, hand me the key. I don’t have all night here.”
“Oh really? Got somewhere to be? Someone else you’d rather be toying with?”
