Page 162 of Surprisingly Us

Why does the thought of it make my insides ache?

“No.” The single word falls from my lips, yet I’m still not certain it’s the right one.

“Are you serious?” She rears back like I’ve slapped her. “You’ve had sex with like a thousand women and I’m asking you to do this with me and you’re saying no?”

Her assessment of me stings. I haven’t fucked a thousand women. And if I had, is that the only reason she’s asking me? Because, what’s one more fuck when you’ve already had so many?

For a moment I’m afraid she’s going to cry, but her hurt morphs into anger.

“You know what? Fuck you, Rhys.” She slams her glass down on the bar, the fizzy ginger ale sloshing over the side, then she spins off the barstool so fast, I don’t have time to react. She’s already headed for the door when I fumble for my wallet. Throwing some bills on the bar, I rush out after her.

I’m two steps out the door when I’m greeted by a torrential downpour. The light rain from earlier is now a monsoon. I step back under the restaurant’s awning, swiveling my head to see which way she went. Already halfway down the block, walking in the pouring rain is Lettie, and even from this distance I can tell she’s completely soaked.

My umbrella.

It’s tucked under the bar.Fuck. If I go back for it, I’ll lose sight of her.

So instead, I plunge myself into the deluge.

The second I step out from underneath the awning, it’s like someone has tossed a bucket of water on me. My hurried footsteps on the sidewalk are drowned out by the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. It’s thunderous in my ears. The water blurs my vision, but I manage to keep sight of her. I keep running, closing the distance between us. By the time I catch up to her, my button-down is plastered to my skin and the weight of my pants has tripled.

“Lettie!” Her skin is slick from the rain, and my attempt to grab her elbow comes up empty.

She doesn’t even look back to see that it’s me.

“Leave me alone, Rhys,” she says calmly. It’s a complete contrast to the chaos of the storm beating down around us.

“In case you haven’t noticed, now’s not the time to have a tantrum.”

She doesn’t break stride. “What’s the matter, Rhys? Getting your loafers wet?”

The only reason I care about the loafers is because she helped me pick them out.

“I’ll get a new pair tomorrow. Why are you being such a stubborn ass?”

That gets her attention. She whips around. “Excuseme?”

The stormy day’s low light shows everything exactly how it is. If Lettie was beautiful before, the water cascading down her features has only made her more breathtaking. Beads of water slide down her porcelain cheeks. Her dark lashes are wet and stuck together. Crystal blue eyes, the same color as the hottest part of a flame, stare back at me.

“You heard me.”

“Well, you’re being a prick,” she spits, her soft pink lips spraying the rainwater that has settled there.

The urge to capture her plump bottom lip between my teeth is immeasurable. It’s a constant battle. My desire to be around her. The desperate yearning. The insanity that is thinking I’m worthy of having Lettie beneath me. And now it’s the very thing she’s asking for and I’m going to lose my fucking mind no matter what I do.

We glower at each other, getting even more soaked by the second, until I guide her under a nearby overhang to get a break from the rain.

Her chest is heaving, the skin under her eyes now dark with smudged mascara.

With my hands braced against the wall by her head, I lean in close. The rain is loud enough to drown out the city noise around us. Like the steam created by the rain on the once scorching asphalt, our body heat mingles in the small space between us.

“This is what you want?” I ask, barely restraining myself. “Because if we do this, there’s no more saving yourself for the perfect man, Lettie. Forlove.” My fingers move to grip her chin. “I’m not that guy. It won’t be like that with me.”

I’m testing her. Trying to gauge how desperate she is. If she wants her virginity gone so badly that she doesn’t care what the circumstances are. That she doesn’t care that it’s with me.

Her blue eyes bore into mine. Any moment now she’ll come to her senses.

“That doesn’t matter to me,” she says quietly. “It doesn’t have to be special. I just want it done.”

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