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Which is crazy because I’m not the jealous type, and it’s bullshit because I’m not supposed to want this to be real. We have a deal. And I don’t want to be the guy flipping the script.
That’s why I had to get her the hell out of that hotel room tonight.
One look at Harlow with those smokey eyes and her hair pinned back so I could see the silky length of her neck on one side—damn—I knew we had to get out. That if we didn’t, I’d end up putting some move on her and being the total douche I’m trying so hard not to be.
One week. That’s all I’ve got to make it. And then once we get past theI Dos, once I have her back in Chicago where she’s got home-ice advantage—then I’ll pull out everything I’ve got.
Probably on her doorstep.
But not now. Not here. Not when I can’t fucking tell if the signals I’m getting off her are about perfecting ourfake,or because she’s feeling it too.
Harlow turns in her seat, eyes bright and beautiful, still laughing from whatever story Tommy was telling her. “Wade, you were such a hellion! And here I’d been so sure I was signing on with agood guy.”
I want to be. But even her teasing me with my own words is working against that effort, doing things to me it shouldn’t.
Climbing out of the booth, I hold out my hand, and when she gives me hers, I draw her along with me.
“Are we leaving?”
“No way, Good Girl. We’re dancing.”
Her eyes go wide but I don’t give her a chance to say no before I’m pulling her in against me and spinning her around. And the quick move pays off, because then she’s laughing, her hands against my chest, holding tight to my shirt as she finds her balance.
God, that’s nice.
“Wade! I’m not— I don’t really—”
“Sure you do.” Keeping an arm behind her, I lead us onto the small dance floor that’s been filling up since we arrived.
“So we’re selling it now?” she asks, hands sliding up to my shoulders. “Anyone in particular you’re trying to convince, or just Enderson as a whole?”
Pretty sure I’m selling it to all the guys who keep staring at her, wondering whether they’ve got a shot at the prettiest girl here.
They don’t.
“Sorry about that business with Collin, back there. I wasn’t expecting to see him—though I probably should have.”
“Not your favorite person?”
“Not even close.” More than ten years later, and I still can’t think about the guy without feeling like I’m suffocating beneath the weight of his bad choices. “Tommy and DJ say he’s turned it around since high school, but back then? He was the kind of fuckup that could drag you down in a blink.”
Her eyes go wide. “Did something happen with you?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was into some pretty bad shit. And just being near him almost cost me my future.”
She stops moving. “Oh my God, Wade.”
Aww hell, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’ll tell her the whole story sometime. But not on a night I promised to show her a good time.
“Hey, don’t worry.” I pull her back into motion, holding her a little closer. Giving her the smile she always gives back. “It all got straightened out in the end. But if you want to know why I’m so serious about keeping my nose clean… that guy is it.”
She pats my chest. “You’re a good guy.”
“Don’t forget it, Good Girl.”
We talk and dance. Harlow moves with me, her soft curves driving me out of my mind, her laugh making me ache for more. The next song has a heavier beat, a rhythm we fall into too easily. Our bodies sync up, the space between us becoming nonexistent.
She’s got one hand at the back of my neck. My arm is wrapped around her with my hand on the far side of her waist.
