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His gaze sharpens. “But if you were my girlfriend, it would be okay?”
What? His eyes are so deep blue, so spellbinding, and I don’t like how out of control and wobbly I feel. I’m at work. I should be in control. I shouldalwaysbe in control.
But he joined my yoga class, he told everyone he was my boyfriend, and he seemed to enjoy the class until I asked them to think about what makes them feel loved, and then he looked stricken and lost.
I’ve been thinking about that all week.
“Don’t spend that much money on me.”
He hums, narrowing his eyes at me. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“It’s not.” I’m laughing again. “You’re unhinged, Miller.”
He leans in, bracing his hands on either arm of my chair and bringing his mouth to my ear in that way that makes my pulse jump.
“If you really were my girlfriend, Hartley,” he whispers, his breath sending electric currents over my skin, “there’s no limit to what I would spend on you, so if we want to sell this? Let me.”
I swallow, unsure of what to say.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he adds, straightening up, and my pulse trips.
“What you do late at night in your hotel room is none of my business, Miller.” I give him a cool, disinterested smile despite my stomach doing somersaults.
He’s beenthinkingabout me? How? In a sexy way? Do I like that?
I think I like that.
My brow arches. “Or in McDonald’s bathrooms.”
He snorts. “I’ve never been to McDonald’s.”
Shock drops the disinterest right off my face. “What? Not even when you were a kid? Not even when you’re drunk?”
“I don’t really get drunk, Hartley.”
I stare at him in confusion. “What about the ball pit?”
His chest shakes with laughter, eyes dancing with amusement, and I feel that funny flopping, somersaulty feeling in my stomach again. “The ball pit sounds disgusting.”
I give him aduhlook. “Of course it is, but that doesn’t matter when you’re six.”
“Or drunk.” His eyes tease me.
“Or drunk,” I agree.
I wonder what he’d be like drunk, or a little tipsy. I bet he’d be silly, handsy, and sweet. Warmth gathers in my chest before I shove it away.
I can’t be thinking thoughts like that about him.
I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth, and his eyes drop to my mouth.
“Was there something you wanted?” I ask, face going warm.
He blinks as his eyes refocus. “There’s a community skating thing in the arena tonight and Ward is teaching a bunch of kids how to skate.”
“Okay. Good for him.”
Rory grins, and my stomach dips. His smile lifts even higher, and he’s so pretty. He’s strong, broad, and so, so tall, and his hair is thick and a little wavy in a way that makes meitchto drag my fingers through it, but also, he’s pretty.
