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When she glanced at him, he just stared at her blankly, blinking. He made her stomach flip with that intense blue gaze. But she needed to know, so she asked, "How old are you anyway?"
"Thirty-five," he said, his eyes narrowing.
Her brows lifted as she nodded. "I thought you were in your thirties."
"How old are you? I assumed you're over twenty-one, since you graduated."
She flushed and nodded. "Twenty-three, which is young to have earned a master's. But it's what I needed."
He frowned but she waved to the movie and pasted on a forced smile. "It's been years since I've seen this. Not sure I've ever watched it all the way through. Did you try the cheese? It's wonderful."
He stared as she tucked her feet under her and moved the popcorn bowl between them on the couch. She had goosebumps on her arms, but she didn't want to talk about her past. She didn't know him well enough for that.
She tried to focus on the movie, but turned her body so she could see more of him out of the corner of her eye. He had a square jaw and high cheekbones covered in a dark five o'clock shadow. He had the hard, muscled body of a gym rat, but he wasn't like the other jocks on campus.
He watched, waited. Even at the party last weekend, she'd been able to feel his eyes on her. Just like now.
She turned her head slightly and caught his gaze. Tingles raced along her spine, and her body burned with lust. The raw power of her attraction to him disturbed her, made her wary of getting too close.
But she couldn't do nothing. It was time to seize what she wanted, if only for tonight.
"Mason," she whispered, licking her lips. He glanced down at them and didn't look away.
"Yes, Lucy?"
"You're not watching the movie."
He shook his head.
"Why not?" She held her breath, because if he didn't want her too then this entire idea was a moot point.
He slowly reached for the popcorn bucket and put it back on the coffee table along with his glass. She set her glass on the side table and looked back at him. He rested one hand on the armrest and the other along the back of the couch. His fingertips whispered along the skin on her shoulder, tracing the line of her tank top.
"I can't figure you out, little bird."
She shifted slightly, drawing closer to the web of desire he was spinning around her. "What's to figure out?"
"One minute you're ignoring me, and the next you're looking at me like you want me to kiss you."
She shuddered a breath and her eyes widened. "Am I that obvious?" she held her cheeks with her hands and groaned.
He chuckled, his fingers sending shock waves of awareness down her body. Who knew shoulders could be so sensitive?
"Not obvious unless you're looking for the signs. And I definitely am."
She put her hands down and turned to face him, hope blooming in her chest. "You're looking for the signs? Why?"
He arched a brow. "Because I'm doing the same thing. I tell myself to ignore you, but I can't seem to take my eyes off you."
"You want me?"
He nodded, his face serious. "Yes."
She took a deep breath. This was it, her chance to finally live a little. "I—I want you too."
She licked her lips, and his eyes darkened with desire. Her pulse raced. "This is a bad idea. We're going to see each other a lot, now that they're married."
He nodded, shifting closer and tracing his fingers up her neck. "I know, and I can't offer you a relationship, Lucy. With my job, it's too risky and unpredictable."
