Page 48 of Between the Lines

“She sure came for me as if was like that,” I countered. “So I know for sure you were doingsomethingto have her out here acting silly. A woman doesn’t do that for nothing. That’s another thing the blogs got right.” I laughed, thinking about the headlines that had bothered him so much.

The ones about his bedroom prowess.

“You say that like I did something wrong.”

“No, I’m saying it like I knowexactlyhow right the dick is—so honestly…I understand where sis was coming from. I was pressed when I wasn’t getting it anymore too.”

Shaw’s mouth dropped open, head tipped to the side as evenIprocessed what had just left my mouth.

“Whew. Um…I think I’m going to hit Tamra up and let her know I’m ready to go.Clearly, I’ve had a little too much to drink.”

I was already reaching into my pocket to get my cell phone when Shaw reached out, stopping me.

“I can take you,” he offered, then raised his cup in my direction. “I haven’t been partaking tonight.”

“Of course you haven’t, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes,” I teased, and he laughed.

“Nah, it ain’t that—I’ve got a couple shirtless scenes coming up, got to make sure it’s all tight and right,” he said playfully, patting himself on the non-existent gut.

I smirked. “I’m pretty sure I’m in those shirtless scenes with you and I will not be tight and right.Iwill be soft and fluffy.”

“Ain’t shit wrong with that,” he drawled, making me blush. “After you left here…what were you planning to get into?”

There it was, again.

The introduction to this dance we’d been doing over and over through the weeks—I kept myself busy on purpose to keep the noise, the drama, at a minimum. So my answer, when he asked, was always some time-passing thing or another.

Hanging out with my family.

My friends.

Running through lines.

Stuff he always respected.

Not this time though.

“Not a damn thing,” I answered, meeting his gaze. “What about you?”

That was always the other part of it—I wasn’t the only one with a life, of course; he had one too.

Very serious about his work, his rest, all that.

“Same as you—so we can take the long way and talk.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We talk all the time.”

“So? You don’t like talking to me?”

I shook my head. “Don’t even start. Let me say my goodbyes, and then…we can go?”

Why was I so damn nervous?

Anxiety gnawed at me as I made my way around the room, letting the appropriate people know I was heading out. A few minutes later—lightning speed, it felt like—I was tucked comfortably in the passenger seat of Shaw’s SUV.

Low radio.

Only the streetlights for illumination.

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