Page 60 of The Charm of You

While my blood pressure rises.

“I’m not afraid,” I say, and I hate how I practically shrink back.

“Let’s say I believe you.” He snorts. Clearly, he does not believe me. “Let’s pretend you’re not afraid of anything, in which case, I fail to see the issue here.”

He’s going to make me say it, isn’t he? The guy really is some kind of mind ninja.

“You said it yourself—I only sleep with women. I don’t get attached.”

Cole slows his chewing.

“But Caroline’s not the kind of woman you don’t get attached to,” I bite out like I’m allergic to the words. “And where would that leave me?”

“With a happy ending as exciting as Taylor Swift’s ‘Love Story.’”

Cole and I turn to find Scarlett has returned, and her dreamy sigh drags on for eons.

I pinch my brows and force a rough exhale.

“You haven’t been this attentive to any of your tables in all your months of working here put together.” Cole pins her with an accusatory stare.

“Maybe you’re just my favorite, Mr. Bigshot,” she chirps, then turns her amused eyes to me. “But Mr. Homecoming is giving you a run for your money.”

Another table requires her attention, and once she’s gone again, I release another exhale, my muscles tight and full to the brim of irritation.

“It’s good to see you feeling this way,” Cole says.

I furrow my brow. “I thought you and I were friends, but you seem to be shitting on me quite a bit this evening.”

He abandons the food altogether as he leans forward to search my expression. From the outside, it might look like we’re plotting world domination, but we’re just fucking gossiping.

It’s embarrassing, and yet, I can’t stop.

“I’ve never seen you care about a woman like this, and you’ve only really known her a few days. You haven’t even slept together, have you?”

“No.” Instinctively, I adjust my pants and squirm like a lovesick teenage boy at the thought of Caroline in that way.

What would she feel like? Taste like? Sound like?

Would she scream or whisper my name? How long would it take to unravel her?

Most importantly, would I survive such an experience?

“Oh, you’re in deep, my friend.” Cole lets out a slow whistle, but it barely registers. My head—and dick—throbs with images of Caroline running her hands over my chest while I kissed her today. “Why don’t you explore whatever this thing is with her while she’s in town?”

“Way ahead of you,” I mumble. Palms sweating, I dig into my pocket for a few bills, slap them onto the table, then slide out of the booth. “I need to go.”

Cole’s chuckles follow me out the door of the Tap

In my truck, I pull out my phone and quickly type out a message, my nerves shooting off like fireworks.

“Doesn’t the water ever just… call to you?”

Caroline’s melodic voice sings in my head like a lighthouse guiding me to safety, and her question hits me square in the fucking chest.

The water—or anything else, for that matter—has never called to me like she does, and no matter what this is or where it will lead, I’m too stubborn and curious to find out.

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