Page 17 of The Girlfriend Zone

“Looks like it,” I say, looking for a proper trade. I run my thumb along the faded vegan leather bracelet I wear on my right wrist. “We should leave something in its place. All I have is this. My brother gave it to me when I moved here.”

And on the inside is an inscription—You’ve got this. I needed that reminder when I moved to San Francisco. Tyler knows better than anyone how tough the sport can be—he plays hockey, too, in Los Angeles. But I keep those details to myself.

“Too special to leave behind?” she asks gently.

“Kind of,” I admit. “But we can come back and trade again for it.”

She touches my wrist lightly. “That sounds like it means a lot to you, and it might not be here then.” Shelifts her hand to her right ear, where one of the long teardrop earrings hangs, but now I can see she wears more earrings. Little silver studs of stars and a skull climb up her ear. She must think the better of leaving those, though, since she lifts her wrist and shows me a slim silver bracelet instead. “This is from a flea market I went to with friends. I could leave this.”

“You don’t have to,” I say softly, meeting her eyes, not wanting her to leave anything behind.

She smiles, running her fingers over the locket in her hand. “It’s part of the game. You give something up but get something in return. And I want to.”

“If you insist,” I say.

“I do.”

I kneel before her, taking the locket in my hand, and dusting it off with the cuff of my shirt. “Let me put it on you.”

She lifts her hair, her expression briefly nervous, as though she’s expecting me to notice her hearing aids. But I didn’t when she touched her earring, and now I’m focused on her face, like I suspect she prefers. My fingers graze her skin as I loop the chain around her neck then fasten the clasp. Being this close, the urge to kiss her is almost overwhelming, but I hold back, letting the anticipation build even more as I touch her once again. The scent of her hair drifts past my nose, mingling with the warm, September air, and the late summer scent of the forest.

“Beautiful,” I whisper, but my gaze isn’t on the locket or the trees.

She doesn’t look away from me as she touches the necklace at her throat. “I’ll return it soon.”

I see an opening, like a breakaway on the ice, and I gofor it. “Sounds like we need a second date to give it back then,” I say.

Her eyes sparkle. “We do.”

Then she slips off her bracelet, leaving it in the box with the note it came with—a promise, and a plan for us to see each other again. When she closes the lockbox, she turns back to me. Her eyes have darkened. “You’ve made me wait long enough. Are you going to kiss me now?”

I reach for her hair, careful to touch her just past her temples, letting my fingers slide slowly through her soft strands. “Yes, but I’m going to need something from you.”

“What is it?” She sounds breathless.

“I want you to take a picture of it, like I can’t look away from you. Like I have to have you. Like you’re all I’ve been thinking about all fucking day.” I pause as her cheeks flush with color. “Because you are.”

She swallows, then grabs my face, shakes her head, and says, “Now.”

Fucking love her desire. But IthinkI want to edge her just a little more. I like her need far too much. “I left my watch at your studio,” I point out, covering her hands with mine, holding her tight.

Her lips part in surprise, maybe delight. “You did that on purpose.”

I nod in admission. “I did.”

7

A LITTLE INTO YOU

Leighton

The drive back to the studio takes forever and no time at all. But we’re here now as dusk falls over the city. We leave the twilight behind, heading up the steps. With each footfall, anticipation winds tighter in me, higher.

I’m the only one using the studio today, so when I unlock the door, I’m confident it’ll just be us. Still, I look around the space, reassured to find it empty, just like we left it. I head over to the chaise this time to set up the camera in front of it—I’ve been low-key vibrating the whole way here, imagining capturing our first kiss on film—when Miles grabs my hand, jerking me back toward him, pulling me against his body.

I can feel how much he wants me.

“You’re going to send me that picture.” It’s a demand, rough and intense, matching the need in his dark brown eyes.

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