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“You will.”
She stepped back before he could kiss her again, wrapping her arms around her waist because the air had turned chillier now that the sun had gone down and she definitely wasn’t asking for his damn hoodie back.
“Good night then.” She turned around and walked down the side of the house, opening the door that led to the kitchen. It was huge, like the rest of the house, and dark, too. She flicked on the lights, ready to head for the coffee machine that Cam had told her was in the far cupboard, giving her the green light to make as much as she liked.
And then she jumped like a damn kangaroo.
Michael was sitting at the breakfast bar, a glass of what looked like water in front of him.
“Oh God.” She pressed her hand against her chest. “I didn’t see you there.”
He gave her a wry smile. “Sorry.”
“I was just going to make a coffee, but I can come back,” she said, her voice hesitant. They’d promised not to be seen together after all. And the situation with Ethan was playing over in her mind. She needed to let him know she wasn’t interested.
It was easy to give brush offs to people in big cities. You never had to see them again. Or deal with their mom knowing yours, or your brother asking them for help with their car.
And ugh, them being the only vet in town if your horse got lame.
“I’m surprised you’re not outside,” Michael said. Oh, so now he was chatty? What happened to ignoring each other?
She was annoyed at herself for liking the fact he was talking.
“Why’s that?” she asked.
He shrugged, saying nothing, but his eyes were still on her face. She felt like she was being scrutinized.
“If you have something to say, just say it,” she told him. And dammit, she was getting that coffee. He could be the one to leave, thank you very much.
“You seem close to that boy.”
Her mouth dropped open, but luckily, she had her back to him. She straightened her expression before she turned to look at him.
Be cool as a cucumber. Don’t show him you’re annoyed.
“I wasn’t aware I had to get your permission to talk to aman,” she said. “And for your information, Ethan is only a few months younger than me.”
“Like I said. A boy.”
She tipped her head to the side. Michael had his arms resting on the counter, his biceps tight and defined where they met the sleeves of his t-shirt. She’d always had a thing for arms. Strong, muscled ones.
Ones that knew exactly what they were doing.
Focus, dammit.
“At least he never lied to me to get me into bed,” she said.
Michael blinked. “What?”
“You were married when we had sex.” There. She’d got it out. But she didn’t feel any better. Just more annoyed than ever.
“Who told you that?” he asked, frowning.
“My mom.”
It was his turn for his mouth to drop open. “You told your mom we had sex?”
“No. She told me you got divorced last year. I worked out the rest. It just would have been nice for you to tell me you were married before you slid your dick inside of me.”
