Page 122 of Holding On To Good

He wasn’t some sap with delusions of grandeur. He’d never be able to hold on to anything decent. Not for long, anyway.

He’d ruin it.

Would ruin her.

Mouth tight, he flipped off the light and headed down the hall. He’d kept his distance from her. Hadn’t texted her or shown up at any of the parties he’d figured she’d be attending.

But he’d wanted to.

And now, here she was, all because he’d spouted off about her owing him.

That had really come back to bite him in the ass.

He opened the door and stepped out onto the parking lot.

And went stupid all over again.

She stood less than ten feet away with her hands in her back pockets, her head tipped back, eyes closed. Her ponytail trailed down her back, the sun turning the dark red strands gold and touching her nose, cheeks and the base of her throat with a soft glow. The pose exposed the long line of her neck, pushed her ample breasts up and out, accentuated the indentation of her waist.

His palms itched to touch her there, to slide underneath the hem of her shirt and settle against her skin, his fingertips curved around her hips.

She was effortlessly sexy with her short shorts and clinging top. Wholesome with her face free of makeup, the freckles scattered across her upper cheeks and bridge of her nose. The combination staggered him.

Left him half-hard with want. Reeling with longing.

See? Dangerous. He didn’t long for things he couldn’t have. Had learned not to want anything out of reach.

As if sensing him staring at her, she lowered her head and opened her eyes, looking directly into his. Slowly withdrawing her hands from her pockets, she cleared her throat.

Then she smiled, hesitant and almost shy. “Ready?”

It wasn’t too late to change his mind. He could tell her he wasn’t going. No reasons. No explanations.

He could end this game they were playing. This battle of wills that’d compelled her to seek him out. That had kept her on his mind for the past two weeks. They could declare it a tie and both walk away before it went any farther.

Before anyone got hurt.

Instead, he nodded. Because seeing her in those shorts and that shirt slayed him.

Because she was so determined to pay him back.

But mostly because when she smiled at him like that, it didn’t seem like she was so far out of his reach after all.

Chapter Twenty-Two

They’d gone two blocks when Reed caught a glimpse of their reflection in the front window of the Red Buddha yoga studio.

Verity and the kid both looked like they’d stepped straight out of a family sitcom with their perfect postures, smooth hair and faces glowing from the heat and a life made up of good choices.

He looked like an extra in that show about the motorcycle gang.

The kid was between them, humming a song under his breath, holding Verity’s hand as he did a hop/skip/jog to keep up with her quick steps.

Quick, bouncy steps that had her ponytail swinging, hips swaying and tits bouncing.

“How’d you know I was at the garage?” he asked as they headed up Elm Street.

“I sort of… asked around.”

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