Page 34 of Falling in Love with Two

“My other sister and my mom helped to decorate.”

My nose scrunches up. “I feel really dumb.”

“Do you really think I would’ve picked you up at a bar and brought you back to the home I share with my girlfriend?”

My shoulders shrug. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing a guy has done to me.”

He looks appalled. “That’s not me. I’ve been with my fair share of women, but never more than one if I’m committed to someone.”

“Sorry,” I tell him. “I usually assume the worst.”

He gives me a warm smile. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“Sometimes, I can be an ass.”

“Join the club,” he says. “Since I’m here, why don’t we just try to have a good time?”

“Alright,” I agree. “I guess I owe you that.”

He looks at me. “What’s your last name?”

I smirk. “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, as you so eloquently put it the other night, my tongue has been in your cooch. Usually, I’d like to get a girl’s last name first.”

I shake my head and smirk. “Man, you’re such a boy scout.”

His tongue licks the corner of his bottom lip. “I don’t think a boy scout would do the things I did to you the other night.”

“Maybe not,” I say, trying not to smile but failing miserably. “Hargrove. My last name is Hargrove. What about you? Your mail said you were Dylan Lawson, yet my calendar says Michael.”

He almost looks a little embarrassed. “I didn’t know if you’d see me if I said my real name.” As if my words finally click, he adds, “You looked at my mail?”

My shoulders shrug. “I needed your address to call a ride. I guess we both are a little devious.”

He gets a sexy look in his eye. “Maybe two devious people should go home together.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “You’re awfully brazen to the woman holding a tattoo gun.”

“I’m just saying that we could have some fun together.”

“We did have some fun together.” I pause but know he’s looking for me to say something else. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you did everything right. That’s the problem.”

A wrinkle of confusion appears on his forehead. “How is that a problem?”

“Because I’m a fucking mess.”

“No, you’re—”

I cut him off. “I really am. If you knew what was good for you, you’d stay far away from me.”

“I’ve never been good at knowing what’s good for me.”

“Let me give you some advice. Stay as far away from me as possible.”

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