I’m not a man accustomed to sharing his feelings with others. Privacy means a fucking lot to me. Even my club brothers don’t know my shit. Now I have Oz—who is only a few years older than me—giving me a speech about responsibility and dating. Shit, I’m not a kid, and I don’t need anything dumbed down.

Yarrow might, though, so I restrain my temper and let Oz boss me around. Despite his speech about Yarrow’s delicate psyche, I don’t think he knows much more about her than I do. If he understood her—if any of them did—why are they so startled by her asking if I liked her?

I follow Yarrow to the front of the complex. Her blue eyes don’t study me but, instead, survey the protective fence around the property. She then looks up at the cloudy sky before finally focusing on me.

“Do you want to date me or just have sex with me?” Yarrow asks in the most casual voice.

“I don’t know. Both maybe. Neither is possible too.”

“How come?”

“Which one.”

“Whatever one.”

“I got you under my skin, but I’m not good with women.”

“Were you at the park because of me?”

“I should have stopped that asshole from messing with you.”

“Why? I handled it fine.”

“You were arrested.”

“Oh, well, whatever. You didn’t protect me, but do you want to date me? Yes or no?”

Her simple question holds a complicated answer. Yarrow is beautiful in a million small and big ways. I could look at her face every day and never get bored. On the other hand, we’re fucked-up people, and there’s no denying our chances at a happy pairing are slim.

“I’m not a good guy,” I tell her.

“You’re a criminal. So am I. If you’re making a point, I don’t get it.”

“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.”

“And I can’t promise I won’t try to hurt you again if you scare me. I still think you’re sexy, and I want to talk to you. We should go on a date unless you’re too scared.”

Even more than the dare in her words, I hear mockery in her tone. She views me as a pussy. I chase her around. I failed at the park. I let Oz push me around. I’m weak. She’s strong. Though she has every right to think that about me, I know she’s wrong.

“Do I have to come here where your friends will babysit us?”

“Yes,” she says and irritation flashes across her face. “But dinner at my townhome means a bed is nearby if I decide I want to have sex with you.”

Having no doubt this little girl knows how to play rough, I smirk at the thought of her asking for sex on a first date. Hmm, what would Oz expect me to do in such a situation? Should I ask my sudden surrogate daddy for advice?

“I’ll be sure to bring condoms just in case.”

Yarrow pulls a move the Everything Nice foxes enjoy and focuses her gaze on my crotch. She doesn’t look up for nearly a minute. What the hell is she thinking? If she was Pepper, I’d think she was threatening my crotch. If she was Clove, I’d assume she was mocking me. With Yarrow, who the hell knows?

When Yarrow’s gaze returns to my face, I can’t read her expression. She nods and crosses her arms.

“Do you have allergies? Can I not cook anything for you?”

“No allergies.”

“I’ll make pork chops. They’re my favorite.”

“You’re supposed to cook what the man wants.”

“I don’t care what the man wants. I want pork chops.”

Grinning, I love how indignant Yarrow looks at my suggestion that she shouldn’t get her precious chops.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, tempting her to pull a weapon on me again.

“Right now?”

“Unless you’re too scared.”

“No. Does your breath stink?”

I breathe into my hand and realize I’ve smelled better. “A little. Are you picky about that?”

Yarrow digs into her jacket and pulls out a candy container. She pulls out a mint and hands it to me. Then she pops a second mint in her mouth.

“Now we taste the same.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy your flavor more than I’d enjoy mine.”

“Well, duh.”

Chewing up the mint, I lift my hands and show her the palms. Yarrow frowns at them until they cup her face. I catch understanding in her blue eyes just before her lips pucker up for me.

I haven’t kissed a woman while sober in a long damn time. My heart bangs in my chest even before my lips cover hers. I’m not afraid of hurting Yarrow or her hurting me. I just don’t want to be a bad kisser since I suspect I might be her first.

Yarrow inhales when our lips meet, and I swear she holds her breath for the entire kiss. I don’t dare slide my tongue into her mouth, worrying she might panic and bite it off. Just the thought of such a reaction makes me smile.

Sucking on her upper lip and then her lower one, I struggle to remain gentle. I’m not THAT guy. I lack patience, and cuddling doesn’t interest me. I want to devour her sweet lips, pulling her against me until her soft flesh becomes one with mine. For Yarrow, though, I’m careful even while savoring her flavor.

Our lips part not out of choice, but in reaction to a shit-ton of clearing throats nearby. Despite knowing we have an audience, I keep my gaze on Yarrow and wait to see her reaction.

“That felt good. You can do it again on our date,” she says in a freakishly casual manner. “Come over tomorrow for dinner.”

“I’ll have to check my calendar.”

“No, you don’t,” she says, narrowing her gaze. “Why are you lying? Is it because of them?”

Yarrow juts her thumb behind her where the crew and Oz stand awkwardly.

“No. I just like fucking with you.”

Yarrow nods for nearly a minute and then smiles. “I like that. Come over at four before it gets dark.”

And with that final order, Yarrow turns around and walks away. Ignoring the nosy fuckers watching me, I instead enjoy the view of Yarrow’s tight little ass before she disappears into the townhome.

This morning, I woke up with an addiction. Now I’ve got myself a fucking date.