Page 31 of First Comes Forever

He shrugs innocently. “I don’t know. It just seemed like the safest way to start a conversation with you.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re allowed tonotwant to sleep with me. Sure, my ego took a hit, but whatever.”

“Well, if it helps your ego, I’m kind of hoping you’ll uncross your arms at the moment.” He pumps his brows at me and flashes me his money-making smile. He really does have nice teeth…and dimples…and I like the way his hair is a little curly when it gets too long.

“What do you want?” I ask, doing the opposite and tightening my death grip around my chest.

“Your car,” he says simply.

“Randy’s already called and I’m supposed to pick up my car next week. Apparently, there’s something wrong with the transmission too.”

“And the timing belt, your rotors are shot, and your left brake light is a little dim in comparison to the right, but that wasn’t a huge deal, just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the repairs were going to be more than the car was worth. I’ve never seen a car look so nice on the outside, but on the inside basically held together with bubblegum and hair scrunchies. What did you do? Buy a used car from a man in a trench coat trying to sell fake Rolexes?”

I balk, offended. “It was a reputable used car dealership.” Actually, it wasn’t, it just was the only car I could afford in cash when I got to California. I left my car at home with my mom. I have to buy most things in cash because lenders don’t see brand partnerships as reliable income. I can’t exactly show them a W2 or paystub. I can make twenty thousand dollars in one month, and then not even break four-figures the next month. What lender wants to take a chance on that sort of instability?

“You got hustled, sweetheart. So I, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck in discomfort.

I scrunch my nose at him like I smell something bad. “Did you just call me sweetheart?”

Ignoring me, he blurts out, “I got you a loaner.”

“Adam,” I deadpan.

“A loaner.I did not buy you a car, calm down. It’s one of mine. It costs me nothing.”

“Just like you didn’t skip an important meeting to have lunch with me?” I raise my brows at him. “I’d call you a stalker again, but honestly? I don’t get it. You played your cards, I offered the bait, and then you just swam away.” I wiggle a hand in the air, like a fish swimming, while my other arm remains tightly around my chest. “I’m not interested in mind games, and I have about ten years of packing that I should’ve started yesterday, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait,” he protests

I take a step backward, intent on turning on my heel and closing my front door behind him, but he grabs my forearm in one of his large hands to hold me in place.

My body tenses. It’s not that he’s hurting me. It’s his firm grip, like he’s desperate to keep me, making my stomach flit in anticipation. Neither of us moves, even as his knuckles press into my chest.

“If you wereanyother woman, I swear, Amani, after lunch that day, we wouldn’t have even made it back to your apartment. After hauling ass to the nearest empty parking, I would’ve fucked you in my car.”

“Classy,” I mutter. I meant it to be sarcastic, but there’s no humor between us. My throat is dry, and I keep looking at his lips, almost certain they could quench my thirst.

“I just don’t sleep with women I like talking to because I don’t like to—”

“Blur lines,” I finish for him.

He locks onto my eyes, tightening his grip. “I like you.I haven’t liked anyone in a long time, so, obviously, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Sorry I upset you. I should’ve compromised. At least a kiss. Maybe a little over the pants petting would’ve been the gentlemanly thing to do.”

He holds a straight face, but I burst into laughter, our familiar rhythm returned.Okay, fine.He makes me laugh like it’s an easy thing to do.

“If you’re into me, and I’m into you, what’s the problem?” A flurry of excitement swirls just below my navel, reminding me of how I actually feel about this man.

“I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not,” he says, his eyes dropping to the ground. “And then lead you on and let you down. It’s clear what you want in life.”

“And I’m assuming you want the opposite?”

He lifts his gaze and his eyes dart between mine. “Been there. Done that. It’s not for me.”

Of course there’s a rush of disappointment from my head to my toes. But his admission is refreshing at least. “Adam, that was neither smooth nor rehearsed.”

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