Page 26 of Taking Chances

“You know we’re notactuallydating, right? You were there when we arranged the whole fake date thing?” I ask.

“I know, I know. But we do have extra space now that Bryce isn’t going.” She shrugs.

“If he has any doubts about the realness of you and Lennox after the wedding, a group photo or two should erase them.” Natalie is practical as ever.

“Sure. I don’t mind,” I say.

Here’s to hoping I don’t embarrass myself further because that would only make the next weekend more awkward.

12

LENNOX

Ipark in front of Anne’s building ten minutes early. It’s unusual driving a car after so many years of riding a motorcycle, but the luxury of traveling in a heated, isolated space isn’t too bad.

This week, I finished the upstairs bathroom and started on the kitchen. I also finished the book I stole from Anne.

The peace and calm I felt working on the house is a stark contrast to what coursed my body while I read that book.

I’ve been a member of the kink community for years now, but the things in that book made me fucking blush. They also made me hard. Imagining sweet little Anne reading that and maybe getting hot from it was an image sexier than expected.

It’s vastly different than the persona she shows in public, piquing my curiosity to see what she’s hiding underneath.

Luckily, I’m sane enough to know that it would be the worst idea ever. She’s a friend now, I guess. She’s also way too nice, way too sweet, and way too good for someone like me.

While I disagree with most of the things her family put in her head, the fact that she should have high criteria for her partner isn’t one of them.

Anne exits her building, dragging a small suitcase and holding a huge garment bag. Her hair is styled in a fancy updo with two locks of hair left on either side of her face. Her eyes are bright green, accentuated with the evening makeup. I circle the car to help her out.

“Let me get that for you,” I say.

“Please be careful so the dress doesn’t get wrinkled.”

“Relax. I got it.” I wink and her cheeks turn pink.

She’s so fucking sweet.

“This is the car, huh?” Her face scrunches.

“You don’t like it?”

“It just wasn’t what I expected you’d buy.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“I thought you’d buy some huge, manly car,” she continues, making me laugh.

“Sorry if this isn’t manly enough. But believe it or not, manliness wasn’t my top priority while picking a car.” I smirk. “It was safety.”

“Oh.” Her mouth parts before she nods and gets in.

Truth is, I don’t care about cars much. Bikes were always more my thing. But with her frightened reaction when I suggested driving her on my bike, I assumed the fear might be generalized to other vehicles, as well. So, after some research, I decided on the safest option there is, a good old Volvo.

“We should be there around forty-five minutes before the wedding. I hope that’s enough time for you to get ready.”

“Sure. My hair and makeup are already done, I just need to put my dress on.” Her words sound chill, but she’s chewing on her bottom lip hard enough that I’m afraid it’ll bleed.

“You OK?” I ask, starting the car.

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