Page 14 of The Promise Of You

We stop at the bank of elevators. He doesn’t hit the call button. “Look. I get it. It’s not for everyone.” He dips his head to look at me. “If we’re going to sleep together, we’re not doing this getting to know each other thing.”

“No?” That’s the weirdest thing.

“Nope. That’s the whole point. Forget about everything you are. Everything other people think you are or think you ought to be.”

That sounds awesome. “Okay, I’m in.”

He flashes his beautiful smile at me. “Just like that? You sure?”

It’s not just that he’s hot as sin. There’s the way he was looking at me at the bar, and the way he took charge when the bartender got hurt—and did it only to help him. And then there’s the fact that when he looks at me, he doesn’t just look. He engulfs me in his attention. And that he doesn’t just hold my hand. He embraces my palm and fingers with reverence, in a soft and strong way that speaks of respect and desire at the same time. I tilt my head back at him. “You having second thoughts?”

He laughs. “Hell no.”

His laughter is infectious, and I giggle like a teenager as he hits the call button.

“Rules,” he says. “No names, no phone numbers.”

What am I going to call him? “Okay,” I whisper.

“And tomorrow, we’re two strangers again.”

Excitement courses through me, tamping down the tiny disappointment I feel. It’ll really just be the one night, then. “’Kay.”

The elevator dings and the doors swoosh open. Why is he doing this? My blood turns to ice as the obvious becomes clear to me. I pull my hand from his. “Wait.”

He turns to me, blocking the door with his foot.

My heart hammers in my ribcage. “You’re not cheating on your girlfriend, are you?”

His jaw sets, and he looks me straight in the eye. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Never did, never will.” The elevator doors slide back open.

“What? Why?”

He shrugs. The elevator doors bump against his foot again. He doesn’t answer.

“Why not?” I try again.

“You ask as many questions as a six-year-old.”

I gasp. “Are you divorced? Do you have a kid? Is that why you don’t want a girlfriend?” That’s it! That explains the no-girlfriend rule. Ohmygod he must make an awesome dad. My ovaries are in turmoil.

“Never been married, never will be, and certainly don’t have a six-year-old. But my best friend does. And she’s a handful. Asks almost as many questions as a certain young woman I just met.”

He gives my hand a squeeze. “You’re beginning to break the rules, here.” Are you in or not?

I take a deep breath as I step in. This is good. This is going to be great.

I focus my gaze on his long, strong fingers as he bleeps his room card and hits the button for his floor.

Twenty. Holy shit. That’s going to be a long ride.

But then he wraps his arm around my waist, pulls me to his side, and kisses my head. “You nervous?” he whispers.

“No.”

“You’re trembling.”

“I hate elevators.”

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