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Her eyes flash. “There’s no chance I’d have any trouble keeping up with you.”
“Cool, we have a date. The way I figure, a nature workout is right up your alley. You were really into sports in high school. Volleyball, right? Softball too?”
She quits toying with her hair and a glimmer of surprise flashes in her eyes. “Volleyball, yes. Not softball. I was on the girls’ varsity basketball team.”
“Right, basketball. Forgot that you played. That was never one of my sports.”
She visibly flinches. I don’t know what that’s about. Maybe she hates basketball in addition to fresh air.
Then she glances down with a sigh. “Sorry, I’ll have to pass. I’m not exactly dressed for outdoor recreation.”
“Don’t you keep a change of clothes in your car?”
“On the off chance I’ll receive a sudden hiking invitation? Afraid not.”
“We’ll stop at your place so you can change.”
“My place is way the hell over on the east side.”
“No worries. I’ll just carry you.”
A withering look. “What?”
“Yeah, I can easily carry you up the trail and back down again. I’ll be your personal chariot.” I flex my arms to make my point. “Look at me, I’m practically Superman.”
“You’re a far cry from Superman. And you’re not serious.”
“Never been more serious.”
“Christ, you’re persistent.”
I’ve definitely made a dent in her resistance. But it’s time to inject a touch of sincerity.
“Haven.” I wait until I’ve got her full attention before continuing. “I would really like to spend the day with you. It’s my sincere hope to prove that I’mnota ruthless monster.”
Her shoulders wilt and her jaw ticks. Her gaze strays to the purple forget-me-nots in their tumbler of water. “I’m very aware that you aren’t a monster, Conner.”
“Now you’re just piling on the compliments. I’m touched. Can I have a hug?”
She’s back to rolling her eyes. “Try to hug me and I’ll spike my heel on your shin. And you shouldn’t betouched. I wasn’t giving you a compliment. It’s just that I know enough men who truly are monsters to understand the distinction.”
I’ve decided to keep the compliment anyway. Feeling bolder, I cross the room and stop when I’m less than two feet away from where she’s backed against the wall. “Know what? I think that despite your best efforts, you really do like me.”
“And I think you’ve been strapping your football helmet on too goddamn tight.”
That’s what shesays.
But her body language is another story. She fidgets, shifting her weight, pressing her back to the wall like she needs it to hold her up.
Those signs are a big fat motherfucking advertisement. I’m definitely getting to her.
I flatten my palm against the wall above her head and lean closer, confident that she has no intention of kicking me.
And if she did? Hell, I’d enjoy it.
“Haven, don’t be ridiculous. I have no reason to wear a helmet this time of year.”
She remains still. It’s not as if I’m keeping her handcuffed. I’m not even touching her. She could escape with ease. Instead, her breathing picks up and a thick sheet of that chilly attitude vanishes before my eyes.
