Chapter Seven
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This was a mistake. The hugest ever. I don’t know why I agreed to go on this...date, as Kyle is calling it. It’s not a date. It’s a hostage situation. And no one is coming to bargain for my freedom. I’m on my own, left to my own devices, which are, admittedly, few.
I pick at the Caesar salad, pushing a grape tomato around with the fork’s tines, while I listen to Kyle carry on a one-sided conversation. Actually, I’m not really listening at all. I’m only here to reacquire my wallet, which he is keeping just out of my reach but in plain sight so as to torment me.
I hate the bastard.
I’m still worrisomely attracted to the bastard too.
I hate the way I feel around him. This was something I’d thought I’d gotten over ages ago, and yet here I am, imagining the way those large, rough hands would feel on my skin. His mouth, which I try my hardest to avoid looking at, inspires all manner of lustful thoughts, too, which is just plain irritating. How I went from being apathetic to a live wire, jonesing for a taste is beyond me. I just don’t understand how I’ve fallen so far so fast.
The man is like catnip!
“Remember that?”
I blink rapidly and look up, meeting his eyes. They’re soft and full of life, reflecting his alluring smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
His smile doesn’t falter, despite the rude response. “I was talking about that party at Jonah’s freshman year.”
“Which one?” I stab a romaine leaf. “He had parties every weekend.”
He nods, conceding. “He did, but I’m talking about the one.”
I catch the look in his eye and the memories come flooding back. Toga party. Halloween. Everyone was shit-faced.
I shake my head, a phantom chill running down my spine. “The pool was freezing. I don’t know why I let you talk me into getting in there when it wasn’t even forty degrees.”
“Me?” he asks, his voice pitching higher. “I think it had more to do with the headstand drinking game you did just before that.”
I think back, catching flashes of that night. “Ohhhh yeahhhh. I did do that, huh?” I say sheepishly.
“Yeah, you certainly did.” He chuckles, picks up his fancy goblet of water and looks at me over the glass as he takes a drink. His eyes don’t leave mine as he sets it aside again. “So...Sunny.”
I’m instantly on alert again. Sitting up straighter in my chair, I grip my fork, though I don’t yet know what I’d do with it. Stabbing him would be overkill, no matter what comes out of his mouth. Right? I force my fingers to relax and clear my throat, raising one eyebrow to let him know I’m listening.
“Are you free this afternoon? I’m not quite ready to take you back to work yet.”
I should have seen this coming. Sighing, I said, “Kyle—”
“Before you say no,” he says, sitting forward in his chair and reaching across the table to cover my hand with his, “hear me out.”
I stare at our hands on the table, both hating and loving the warmth of his touch, and hating that I even respond to it in the first place. The kiss we shared dances through my thoughts and I find myself staring at his mouth again, those delectable lips...and wavering.
“I haven’t seen you in years. I miss you. And I know you miss me,” he insists, which raises my hackles while simultaneously sparking shyness I didn’t know I still possessed when it comes to him.
I look away, unable to meet his searching gaze.
“What do you say, my Sunny Sunshine...spend the day with me?”
The softness in his voice reaches something tender inside of me, and I look up again. Those blue eyes are pleading with me, begging me for a chance...
And I ask myself, is satisfying my curiosity worth the lost pay? The risk of more heartache? Any risk at all? Is this man, who has no qualms blackmailing me to get me to go to lunch with him, even worth my time?
Then again... What’s the worst that could happen? What could a few hours really change? I work so much overtime that the office won’t miss me, and the overtime makes it so my paycheck won’t miss a couple lost hours. And there’s no way I’ll allow myself to fall for his undeniable charm, no matter how attracted to him I am. I have my hard head and mile-wide stubborn streak to thank for that.
My curiosity finally wins out, and I side with the voice in my head that knows this is an equally good and bad idea.
A calculated risk. Ultimately, that’s what life comes down to.
Extracting my hand from beneath his, I say, “Fine, but don’t think this is me agreeing to anything more.”
He wears a victorious smile as he lifts his arm and flags down the waiter to ask for the check. “I’m glad you agreed,” Kyle states as we leave the restaurant, his hand pressing warmly against my lower back. “I didn’t want to have to hold your wallet hostage again.”
My jaw drops open as he hands it back to me. I take it, thinking I should tell him to fuck off and catch a cab back to the office, but one step turns into two and then three and more, and before I know it, I’m in the passenger seat of his beamer and we’re flying down the highway while Kyle belts out the lyrics to “Livin’ on a Prayer.”
As for me? I’m thinking of the last time this happened, only it was in Kyle’s beat-up Firebird with the balding tires kicking up dust from the old country backroads, and his hand was on my knee.
And just like old times, I feel his hand there, cupping my knee. Surprised, I look at it then over at him. His head turns, and he meets my eyes, then smiles, still singing away...and it’s almost as if we haven’t missed a beat.
I don’t fight it, even though I probably should. Instead, I turn my head and watch the scenery speed by.
I can’t seem to stop smiling.