Page 45 of The Last Good Man

I’ve done itmany timesthese past few months, whether on a lonely evening or in Aretha’s office.

I bring my free hand to his face and touch his lips.

“I know…” I say quietly. “And you’re right,” I add, my eyes dipping to his mouth. “Life is boring. But highjacking someone’s life is not the opposite of boring. Even if my life is dull, I need to find a way to make it interesting. Me. Not you.”

He removes my fingers from his mouth and straightens in his seat.

For a moment, I’m convinced he is about to lean to me and kiss me like he did last night, and I would like that, but it doesn’t happen.

“I won’t argue with you,” he says. “You do what you need to do. But… You can’t tell me not to do what I want.”

We’re so close I’m convinced what‘he really wants to do’has nothing to do with what he did tonight.

“I need to go,” I say, realizing I’m getting dangerously close to wanting this man.

And that would make zero sense.

His hand tightens over mine.

“Let’s do this… You stop seeing all these men, and I’ll show you how much fun a man can be.”

My mouth slides open in surprise.

Negotiating has always been one of my favorite things to do. The harder it is to strike a deal, the more stimulating it can be, but what just came out ofhismouth is brilliant and outrageous at the same time.

Brilliant from his point of view.

And outrageous from mine.

He’s moving fast.

He couldn’t have said that to me last night. It took us twenty-four hours to get to the negotiation table.

He first showed me what he could do to me. And he can do a damn lot. He’s fearless and can’t be deterred, which are his two biggest strengths so far.

There are others, but those have to do with his piercing eyes and the devilish smile draped over his lips, and I refuse to get into that.

I think about itfor a momentand then do what I usually do best.

Walk away.

But not without a little cliffhanger.

I lean toward him, remove my hand from his, and put it on his chest.

“I need to go,” I say softly, almost breathing over his lips.

He doesn’t move, the moment becoming moreseriousthan we would like to think.

Every time I’m in his space, I feel like I’m home and have a deep longing to stay there for a while.

I pull backjustas the kiss almost becomes unavoidable, and I watch the light in his eyes change.

“Have a good night,” I say, unable to crush the regret that I can’t do it.

I gather my things, elegantly slide out of his car, and quietly close the door out of consideration for my neighbors before moving up the stairs like a ghost.

9

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