Page 52 of Forgive You

Jordan: Let me know which bar!

Ford:Thumbs up

I flip my gaze to the shit-eating grin of Ford, who drops his phone on the vanity desk beside him, his ankle resting on his knee. “We’re going out.”

“We arenotgoing out.”

Going to a club and getting wasted in the state I’m in right now is asking for disaster. Going to a club sober in the state I’m in is aiming for destruction.

I’m not going.

Ford flicks his attention to the blonde who’s sole goal of existence is to drive me to the drink of restraint.

“What do you say, Miss Bradford?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, tightening his white NVS t-shirt. “Let’s celebrate a working day gone well and have drinks. Maybe do a little dancing?”

He licks his lips, wiggling like an idiot in the plastic chair.

She belts out a laugh at his ridiculous behavior, and the sound does funny things to my body. Things I don’t want anything to do with. I expect her to flirt with Ford to get on my nerves, but she focuses her attention my way again.

“You’re not avoiding me, right?”

I purse my lips, taken aback by the animated eyes she’s giving me. “No.”

“Great,” she beams, holding my gaze. “We’re going out.”

What?

She faces Ford. “Let’s get this over with so we can have some fun.”

“Hell yeah!” He jumps up, giving me a daring smirk as he strolls past me like the cat that caught the canary.

“We’re not going,” I grunt.

“Yeah, we are.” Ford leaves the room, and I’m left with Julie studying me.

Goosebumps trail up my arms like a marching band, following the path of her eyes moving up and down my body until they hold my gaze with a playful glint.

“Put your money where your mouth is, Jason.”

I want to stay mad at her, but staring at this powerful woman in front of me, keeping me on my toes, I just can’t. She’s got me backed in a corner and she’s loving every minute of it. But the kicker? So am I.

I’ve always had a thing for the Julie who’s strong, independent, challenging. For the woman who is in control when she’s selling a house, and the woman who doesn’t wait for shit to come to her. She’s hardworking and makes shit happen.

That’s the woman who challenges me, just because she can.

I fold my arms in front of my chest, biting back a grin.

“We’re not going out,” I say, just for the hell of it.

Her pouty pink lips stretch before she licks them.

Seductive. Slow. Sensual.

Goddamn.

She steps in front of me, our chests almost touching. Bambi eyes peer up at me from below thick lashes, and my gaze drops toher mouth. They are soft, so tempting, and I’m wondering if she still tastes like peaches if I kiss her.

My heart thumps in my ribcage like sneakers in a washing machine, palms tingling to pull her against me. She leans in and, for a split second, I think she’s going to kiss me. But then she moves past my jaw, until her breath tickles my ear, and I shut my eyes simultaneously.

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