Page 9 of Loose End

“What makes you think I’m going to open anything for you?” I manage to choke out.

His eyes darken like the sky before a storm, and he lifts his beer from the bar and gives it a swirl before bringing it to his lips for a long swig. “I’ve got to ask, are you dressed for a special occasion?”

“It was laundry day.”

He snorts. “And that was the only thing clean?”

“Something like that.” I sigh, tapping my nails along the bar. “I was supposed to get married today. I found my fiancé sucking on the best man’s dick like it was half price Slurpee day at the 7/11.”

“Well, shit.”

Yeah. My thoughts exactly.

FOUR

Ryan

Holy hell.There’s no chance she’s still engaged. None.

There’s no coming back from that. Also, the visual is…well, it’s something.

Guess it explains why she didn’t bother to change out of that dress or at least take off the tiara. Not that I mind, really. The more time I spend looking at her, the more I like it. There’s only one big problem—I can’t see her legs, which is a real shame because that’s one of my favorite things on a woman.

The tight corset part of the dress, though, is doing wonders for her rack.

And the best part of this whole situation is that there is no way she wants anything more than a tumble in the sheets. Perfect for the both of us. No chance of a single complication and I’m a nice guy, I want to help her out. Poor thing hasn’t had much luck with men and the least I can do is show her a good time.

A very temporary good time.

Give her a few orgasms and hopefully a little empowerment not to settle.

In. Out. Repeat several times. Done.

“That must’ve been tough.” My voice comes out much gruffer than I intended and I clear my throat, squeezing the back of my neck and hoping that grounds me in the now. That wedding dress. Fuck.I will not get lost in the past. Not right now.

“It was. It is. I just feel so stupid.” She covers her face with her manicured hands and groans. “I should’ve seen it. Looking back, the signs were clear as day.”

I pull her hands back to the bar and give them a squeeze. I meant to give her some space but I find myself lingering, reveling in the softness of her skin for just a few seconds. Dammit. Why does she feel so good? “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

The longer I touch her, the longer I let myself lose a bit of myself in her, the thicker the air feels around us. The more charged. The more electric. The more I find I can’t pull away. I shift my gaze to hers, losing another piece of myself in the depth of her deep brown eyes.

I lean toward her, closing the distance between us almost on autopilot. Like I can’t help but be drawn to her. My breath catches in my throat and my palms sweat. I’m not at all sure what this visceral reaction is, but I’m not sure I trust it. The last time I felt something for a woman was…did I even feel it then?

I’m not sure I did.

So what does this mean?

Nothing. It means nothing. It can’t.

Clearing my throat, I drop her hands and back up, creating some much needed space between us. “So, I feel like I should know your name or something.”

I should right? Honestly, whatever connection is building here has thrown me off balance. I’m not sure what I should do, what I should say. This feels bigger than what it is, but it can’tbe. If this were a different time in my life…if things were different…if I was different.

But I’m not and nothing has changed. I’m still jaded, broken, not ready for anything beyond the superficial.

She deserves better. Way better than me.

“You should or you want to?” Her brows draw together as she studies me and I’m not sure what emotions she’s going to find written on my face.

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