Chapter Five

Garrett

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, gently holding her tiny wrist in his hand. He watched her blink and then frown.

“Why? Because you’re obviously enjoying my company?” she argued, and fuck, he couldn’t help but think she was cute. She made him want to laugh. How long had it been since anyone had made him feel like that? Light and free?

“Please sit.” He offered her his seat. She worried her lower lip, and just like that, the half chub in his pants started to grow. He wanted to nibble on the supple flesh.

“Fine,” she sighed, and he didn’t know what came over him.

One moment he was keeping his hands to himself, and the other they were on her. Her top was soft, and it made him think of how much softer her skin would be. His hands moved to her narrow waist, and he was unprepared for what happened. A current of sensation, warm and cold all at once, in flurry, rushed through his nervous system, settling in his blood. She gasped, and he stilled. She feels it, too. His dick twitched behind his zipper. She weighed close to nothing, he noted in the split second he lifted and sat her on to the barstool.

“Thanks. I could have got on here, but your way was…” She pressed her lips together as if catching herself from saying something.

“Quicker?” he guessed, and she raised a pretty brow but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her. She was better than his drunken memories.

“Sure,” she muttered and looked away from him.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do with a woman. He was far from a Casanova, but he had been known for having game. But with the woman who had plagued his freaking thoughts since he had left her apartment, he had none.

He didn’t like not knowing what she was going to say. He didn’t like how curious it made him. How he was on the edge of his figurative seat, waiting to see what she was thinking. Garrett never wanted to know more from anyone.

He also found he didn’t like not having her full attention, and he wanted it back.

Stefanie

I was somehow successfully pretending to be cool and collected. Somehow containing myself from jumping up and down like the spazz I was known to be.

“So,” his rough voice broke the silence.

“So,” I repeated like some kind of parrot. So much for smooth.

“You like karaoke.” His lips twitched like they were fighting a smile. It wasn’t a question. My enthusiasm during my performance had been more than clear.

“I do. And as you saw, my adoring fans love me,” I pointed out, smiling. He shook his head, hiding his tipped lips behind his glass as he took a healthy drink. “And do you, umm, karaoke?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“No,” he answered and didn’t say anything else. That wasn’t surprising. He didn’t look like the type to willingly make a fool of himself. I looked away, because if I didn’t, I would stare at him for hours.

“I think you were chattier beaten up,” I teased. He looked at me, and I got the pleasure of watching his face transform completely. His lips tipped upward, and a deep gravel-like sound escaped from him as he laughed.

“I like you, Cupid,” he said, and my heart flip-flopped inside my chest.

“The name is Stefanie, actually. With an f, not a ph.” I winced and looked away. Oh yeah. He was definitely like the sun blinding me stupid.

“Stefanie with an f,” he repeated before clearing his throat. “Suits you.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“Though I like Cupid, too.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing and turning my head to look at him. “I gotta be honest, Rocky, I have no idea what that even means.”

“Rocky?”

“You know, the fighter? Sylvester Stallone? ADRIAN!” I did my best impression and watched his eyes tip up. The darkness that had been clouding them disappeared, and they filled with incredible light. In that moment, I could understand the desperation junkies experienced when they looked for a high.

I would have done anything to keep that look in his eyes.

“Rings a bell.”

“It should. It’s an iconic movie, plus it was about your time, right?”

“My time?” he asked with surprise, a small chuckle escaping from him.

“Yeah. You’re like, what?”

“Oh man. This I gotta hear,” he surprised me by turning, caging me in between his knees. “How old do you think I am, Cupid?”

“Hmm.” I tilted my head, taking in the man in front of me. The soft lines by his eyes and the muscular tone to his body. There was a little salt to his dark hair and on his scruffy jawline, but not too much. “Not a day over forty,” I guessed, and his lips quirked upward.

“That’s not a guess.”

“Am I warm?” I smiled, biting my lower lip, but he didn’t give any signs of helping me out. If anything, the way his gaze was clearly amused made me a little giddier. “Okay…” I drawled out slowly. “If I have to guess a number… Thirty-nine?”

“Thirty-eight, but if it makes you feel any better, I have a birthday coming up soon.” He shrugged and moved back, letting me go from between his legs. His big, bulky body moved with a gracefulness that made my thoughts go back to that alley way a couple of weeks ago.

“So…”

“So?” He glanced over his shoulder, taking a sip from his diet Coke.

“Look, I’m so not good at beating around the bush stuff, so I’ll come right out and ask.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why did you help me?”

“What?”

“Why did you help me that night in the alley?”

“You came all the way here to ask me that?” I questioned, and he nodded. “Why did you let them kick your ass?” I asked without thinking and shook my head as my face burned with embarrassment. Way to go, Stef! “I mean, you’re obviously more than capable of defending yourself,” I blurted. Damn me and my big mouth! I watched as his big, powerful hands clenched around his drink.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I muttered, finding my way off the barstool. “It was nice seeing you.” I turned and walked away.

I needed to get away.

He brought out my stupid quirky personality tenfold, and I had made enough of a dumb ass for one day.

Stepping out into the darkness of the night, I walked right to my car without glancing back.