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His steps falter for a minute, his lips turning up at the corners. "You were under the desk looking for a tampon?"
"Yes. I mean, no." I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the floor to open up and swallow me, but it doesn't. In fact, my mouth just keeps going, shooting straight for trainwreck scenario. "I mean, it fell out."
Mary, Mother of God. Please make me stop talking now.
"It fell out?" His smile is so big now.
"Of my purse! It fell out of my purse."
"Do they fall out often?"
"Please stop talking now," I whisper, though I don't know if I'm talking to him or to myself. Either way, I really want this conversation to end immediately. I just told the hottest man I've ever met that I was looking under my desk for a tampon that fell out.
Maybe I'm the crazy one here.
"Did you find it? Get everything taken care of down there, baby girl?"
My eyes pop open. "I'm not discussing this with you, Zayne."
"Tampons or your cycle?"
"We're not talking about either."
"Periods are normal, lamb. I'd be more concerned if you didn't have them." A little smile tugs at his lips, mischief in his gray eyes. "Although, tampons falling out may be a cause for concern too. I'll have to research and see what causes that."
He's going toresearchtampons falling out?
"Stop talking." I'm definitely talking to him this time.
The rich sound of his laugh rolls over me. "I'll stop teasing you if you agree to have dinner with me tonight."
"We've been over this. I can't date you."
"So you keep saying," he growls, quickly closing the remaining distance between us. Before I can slip past him, he's in front of me, blocking me in with one arm on the cabinet over my head. "But you had your chance to get rid of me, and you didn't take it. We both know that's because you're dying to say yes."
"No, I'm not."
"I don't know why you're fighting so hard, lamb. You know it's only a matter of time until you admit you can't breathe without me," he murmurs, leaning down over me. He's so freaking close I smell the mint of his toothpaste and the spice of his cologne. I feel the heat radiating from his body. All my senses work together. Which is to say they work against me, putting me under whatever sexual voodoo he's working on me.
"B-back up," I whisper.
"Go to dinner with me."
"I told you, I can't."
"Why not?"
"I have stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" His hand curves around my jaw, tilting my head up until our eyes meet. "What are you so afraid of?"
"N-nothing," I lie.
"Liar."
Lord, it's hard to think with him this close.
"I'm not lying, Zayne," I huff, annoyed because he's hot and close andright, darn it. There is a reason. There are two of them. They're eighty, and just last week, they got kicked out of a casino in Tunica for trying—and failing—to count cards. "Maybe I'd rather spend the time with my grandma than date you."
