“Pretty cool, huh?”
I snap back to reality, my cheeks hot, my body a liquid pool of desire. “What?” I manage to stutter, “Oh, yes. Great.”
Garrett casually lifts my legs aside and stands, stretching. “I liked the original better,” he yawns, looking as unruffled as if he’s just taken an hour-long nap.
I force myself to sit upright and stop being such an idiot. I glance down to adjust my dress, but there’s not a thing out of place: it’s demurely covering my knees, no sign of the sensation that still vibrates through me, the ghost of Garrett’s touch stroking in a heady thrum.
“What about you, Carina?” Hunter smiles over at me.
“I…I don’t know.” My mind is blank, reeling to catch up. “I guess it’s not really my thing.”
“Let me guess, you prefer romances.” Brit sounds scathing. “All perfect hair and happily-ever-afters.”
I’m too scattered to even argue back. I feel disconnected, still caught up in the dark cocoon of desire. I can’t understand how everyone is acting so casually, carrying on like normal, like nothing’s changed, while I feel my world has been turned upside down; my desire written all over my face, a bright neon sign betraying my every thought.
“This was fun, you guys, but we should get going.” Garrett’s face is stony and unreadable. “I’ve got early deliveries in the morning.”
“You sure?” Brit asks, still lounging under Hunter’s embrace.
“’Fraid so. Don’t get up,” he adds, jaw set. “We can see ourselves out. Come on Carina,” he barks without even looking at me, then strides off towards the hall.
“Thanks for having me,” I manage to tell them with a breathless smile. I stand, half-expecting my legs to give way, still weak, but to my relief, I stay upright. “This was fun.”
“Anytime,” Hunter says, and Brit stifles a tiny sigh.
“Sure. Great.”
I hurry towards the exit. The front door is open; Garrett’s already in the truck with the engine running, so I head on out and climb up into the passenger seat.
“Wait up,” I start to say, but he puts the truck in drive and roars down the driveway before I’ve even managed to close the door behind me. “Garrett!” I cry, grabbing hold of the seatbelt. “Slow down!”
He ignores me, hightailing it around the dark curves with his eyes fixed on the road ahead. I cling on, my heart racing. His whole body is taut with tension, jaw clenched, the silence stretching between us as the engine roars and the shadowed town speeds by.
He wants me.
The knowledge floods through me, sweet with victory. The casual act back at the ranch was just that, an act. He’s not as controlled as he thinks he is, and what happened during that movie, it wound him up too.
Wound him tight, to the breaking point.
Now I just have to push him past the edge.
By the time we pull up outside the bar, my heart is racing with dizzy anticipation. I wait for Garrett to make move, but instead he leaves the engine running.
“So, see you around,” Garrett says gruffly. He’s still refusing to look at me, staring straight out the windshield with his hands clenching the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white.My stomach lurches. No way. I’m not letting this chance slip past me, not after everything.
I don’t know when I’ll have the guts again.
“Come up for a drink,” I tell him, my heart suddenly in my throat.
He keeps his gaze fixed forward. “Not tonight.”
Desire suddenly makes me bold. I reach forward and flip the keys, turning the engine off and yanking them out of the ignition.
“What the hell?” Garrett exclaims. He grabs at my wrist, yanking me back to meet his eyes dead on.
My heart stops. His eyes are flashing, dark and full of turmoil. I can see the restraint pushing him to the snapping point, his whole body shaking with tension.
He’s dangerous.
I want him all the more.
“One drink,” I insist, my pulse racing.
“Dammit, Carina,” he growls, furious. “You’re playing with fire.”
I swallow, my stomach in knots. “This isn’t a game.”
Our eyes lock for another beat. He sucks in a lungful of air, still torn. I make the decision for him. I pull away and climb down from the truck, heading to unlock the back door without another glance.
I step inside, leaving it open.
Please follow. I repeat it like a mantra, climbing the stairs to the apartment. God, please follow me up.
I reach the top landing and stop, waiting, desperate for any sound at all.
Then I hear footsteps behind me, heavy and deliberate on the stairs.
Yes.
My heartbeat is skittering by the time Garrett reaches me. His eyes meet mine, his expression stony and unreadable.
“One drink,” he says, glaring.
I try to hide my smile. That’s what he thinks.
I turn to unlock the door and see a brown manila envelope taped to the doorframe. “What’s this?” I ask, pulling it down.
Inside, there’s a CD in a handmade case. “DC” is all it says on the label. “Must be a submission for music night,” I say, pushing the door open. “Why don’t you put it on? I’ll be out in a minute.”
I leave Garrett with the CD and head straight to the bedroom. My heart is really racing now, drumming so fast I think it might explode from my chest. I’m wired tight, this week of anticipation mingling with the memory of his caress, everything twisting into a sharp ache of desire, a longing so strong it feels like it’s the only thing holding me together anymore.