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“No. I’ll be fine. Thank you. It’s not a big deal.” There was a slight pause, and the guard’s gaze moved my way. Understanding dawned.
He nodded. “Yes, of course. Miss Harm, would you like me to arrange for a ride home?”
I felt Brett tense again as we arrived at the skyway connecting the ramp with the building. I stepped away, feeling the loss of his body heat. I shook my head. “I parked in here. It’s just over there. I’ll be fine.”
“Ah. Yes.” He looked Brett’s way one last time before inclining his head. “I hope you both have a good day.” He left quickly after that.
The door swooshed closed.
“I want to see you,” Brett stated.
“What?” My stomach fell out of my body.
In a good way. I think…
A set of headlights swept up over the lane as a car came inside.
Brett sighed, tightly. “Of all days for me to get a ride from my agent and Jason has to leave early.” His eyes found mine, ignoring the SUV now waiting. “I drive myself. I always drive myself. Why the fuck did I start not driving myself today?” He grinned.
God. Even that was smoldering.
I had a problem.
I was horny.
I never had this problem. Or rarely. I’d been horny, of course. That was normal, but not to the point where a smile could fry my brain.
I was horny for Brett Broudou.
I’d have to stop watching the Kings. That would suck. I really liked watching the Kings.
He took a step toward me, his gaze holding me in place. “Why do I feel like you’re going to rabbit if I let you out of my sight?”
My mouth opened, and I said it before I knew I was going to say it. “Because I will.”
His eyes flashed before darkening. “Why?”
“Because you scare me.”
This was why I didn’t like hormones. They complicated, well, everything.
He froze.
“I mean, not in a bad way,” I rushed out, holding up a hand. “In a good way.”
His hand took mine and he tugged, gently. With purpose. “Leave your car. Come have coffee with me.” He entwined our fingers. “Right now.”
Flames zipped through my body. My hand was on fire. I kept staring at his big fingers next to mine, how his hand almost swallowed mine. “Right now?”
He tugged again, until I was almost touching the front of his body. “I want to learn more about Sylvia Rivera.”
“You do?” I breathed. “She did so many things. I’ve had her Wikipedia page memorized since it was created—”
“I meant the chicken.”
My chest deflated but then inflated. I also loved talking about my favorite hen. “Oh, Miss Sylvia Rivera. She has no nickname. It’s the full name. You either commit to it or you just call her Hen One. It’s the rule around the flock.” I could’ve said more, but noticed his lip twitching again, so I bit the inside of my cheek to shut up. “You don’t really want to know about Miss Sylvia Rivera.”
“You’re wrong. I want to know about anything you like. You shut down, but when you talk about Sylvia Rivera, your eyes light up. Your face gets this glow. I want to know what else makes you glow.”
