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He pulls into a vacant spot and shifts his truck into park, leaving the engine running, that broad chest turning toward me as his arm comes around to rest on the back of my seat.
“I know I joke with you a lot, but I’m not crazy. There’s something between us, right? You feel it too.”
His suggestion shouldn’t catch me off guard, but it does. We’ve been dancing around each other at work for weeks on end, flirting while pretending we’re annoyed. Letting each touch linger a bit longer than the last, each conversation a little more intimate than the one before.
“Yeah.” I sigh, keeping my gaze forward. “But I won’t act on it.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Ryan. Webothdon’t date, and I don’t do random hookups. Where does that leave us?”
“You could let yourself relax, have fun, listen to whatever this is between us.”
“It probably would be fun.” I turn to face him, mirroring his position as I lean forward to squeeze his thigh. “Because obviously, I would … Rock. Your. World.”
He cocks a brow and quickly puts his hand over mine to hold it on his leg.
“But I also know myself,” I continue, begging to point out the logic before my heart takes control. “Say we have fun a few times, maybe even continue for a few weeks, nothing serious. Then one day, I’ll be getting a coffee at work and see you talking to a busty clinic nurse and go into full-blown jealous mode. Neither of us wants that. You don’t shit where you sleep, remember?”
He laughs. “A busty clinic nurse. Why does she have to be busty?”
“I’ve been flat-chested my whole life, so I’ve always admired boobs. What I lack is what I assume every guy is into.” Plus, who doesn’t want big boobs?
He looks down at my chest and licks his lips, not even trying to be coy. “There isn’tanythingyou’re lacking, Lainey.”
“Anyway,” I say, lifting his chin with the tips of my fingers to draw attention back up to my face, feeling his five o’clock shadow graze the soft skin on my hand. “I’m learning from my past relationships that it’s easier to just be alone. If you’re lucky enough to find someone who doesn’t cheat or isn’t … mean … there are always games involved. I don’t like feeling insecure. I won’t be that person.” I refuse to ever be in a position again where a man has broken me down. “There are a lot of pretty girls that work at the hospital, not just nurses. I’m sure you will find someone that piques your interest.”
“I already have,” he says, not missing a beat, “and I’m looking right at her.”
I rest my head and body back into the seat, biting my lips to keep from grinning like a lovesick fool.
“And besides,” he continues, “you won’t find me flirting with busty clinic nurses because I vowed to myself to never hook up with a coworker.”
I scoff loudly and throw up my hands in frustration. “You’ve said that quite a few times tonight. What the hell is the point of this whole conversation, then? What does that make me?” I point to my chest to emphasize my words. “We’re co-workers, Ryan. I don’t plan on going anywhere and I’m willing to bet neither are you.”
He doesn’t flinch at my clear irritation. Instead he continues to watch me, letting me go from frustrated, to annoyed, to curious.
He licks his bottom lip, the movement immediately garnering my attention. “It makes you someone worth breaking all my rules for.”
My whole body freezes at his blatant honesty. My heart slows, blood stops, my pulse becoming a faint thud in my chest. I wait for him to snicker, for his serious façade to break and tell me he’s kidding. But right now, he stares at me with such genuine awe, that I realize that he means it.
He looks down at the space between us, reaching his hand to run the tip of his finger over the corded pattern of the seat fabric instead of focusing on his confession.
Little did he know, his confession was the last bit of knowledge I needed to finally break.
I whip my seat belt off and shove my purse to the floor, desperate to be near him. He extends an arm out, eager to pull me into his embrace the second I’m in reach. Before the count of three, I’ve reached him, straddling his lap in the dim light of the cab.
We’re both quiet, the only sounds are the soft breaths on my face and the whoosh of each heartbeat in my ears.
He slides one of his large palms across my lower back and around my hip to pull me closer to him, his scent of citrus and fresh laundry is so intoxicating it’s dizzying, but it’s not enough to satisfy me. I need to be closer, to feel every hard inch of his body against mine.
He holds me in place with his muscular arm, letting his other hand come up to slip my hair over my shoulders before resting his palm against my cheek. His thumb traces my jawline, memorizing every line and groove in my skin before tilting my chin up to him. He tilts his head to pull me in for the softest, sweetest kiss.
It only takes a millisecond, if that, with his lips on mine to understand why any woman would offer herself to him withoutquestion. The feel of his lips, and the way his hands are worshiping my face, have made me a believer in all that is holy and good in this world.
He kisses me languidly, as if my lips are a fine wine and he’s savoring the first sip. I let myself sink into him, engraving the feeling of his body pressed against mine, letting him wake up a part of me I thought died long ago.
I don’t know how long the kiss lasts. A minute, maybe only a few seconds. It’s possible we entered a black hole where time is infinite. He’s all I see, all I can smell, and the world around me blurs until he gradually pulls his lips away. His half-hooded eyes scan my face, watching for my reaction, only to find that my futile resistance is gone.
