Page 26 of The Cask

“Wow,” Omari reacted as soon as I walked out the door. He was standing on the side of the building with wide eyes. “You look…” He let out a low wolf whistle as he approached me.

“Wow, yourself,” I murmured, checking him out.

Gaaaaaaaaaahdamn!

I cursed myself for not being prepared to see him.

When I met him, I was instantly drawn to him. I gave him my number because he was my type. He wasn’t just handsome and stylish. He was sexy and endearing. My attraction to him was undeniable. And even though I knew I was faking my interest in dating him, I couldn’t deny that the attraction was real. I knew that my purpose for spending time with him was revenge, but I couldn’t ignore the way he lit me on fire. And after that kiss, my body heated at the thought of him—let alone seeing him.

“Allow me,” he said, offering his arm and ushering me to his car, double parked on the street.

“You’re going to get a ticket parking like that,” I told him.

“I circled the block twice and couldn’t find a spot,” he told me as he opened the passenger side door for me. “And I wasn’t going to make you walk.”

I climbed into his black SUV and took note of the black leather seats and the sleek interior. He closed my door and walked around to the driver’s side. When he hopped in, I nodded appreciatively.

“This is a nice ride.”

He grinned as he pushed a button to start the engine. “Thank you.” He ran his hand over the steering wheel before stepping on the gas. “What do you want to hear?”

“Uh…?” I gave him a look. “What do you mean?”

“Music,” he clarified with a smile. “Is there anything specific you want to listen to?”

“You know what…” I stared at his profile. “I’d rather hear what you were listening to on your way over here so I can see if our tastes line up.”

“Oh shit,” he chuckled as he slowed to a stop. He grabbed his phone and pressed play. “Don’t judge me too harshly. I didn’t know I was being quizzed.”

As soon as the music started, I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“Have you ever heard this before?” he asked as he eased onto the highway.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

I closed my eyes and let the music flow through me. My shoulders started moving and I swayed in my seat. When the chorus started, I started mouthing the lyrics.

“If you want to sing, don’t let me stop you,” Omari said, amusement riddling his voice.

“You don’t want me to sing.”

“Oh, but I do.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “Nah, you’re not about to sit over there and laugh at me.”

“Who said I would laugh?”

“You’re already about to laugh!”

“I’m not,” he argued, turning the music up. “Let’s hear it! Let’s go!”

“I’m not singing for you,” I told him, trying to hold it together. “I can’t sing, and you are not about to clown me.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

With that, he started the song over and began singing. Missing every note, I wasn’t sure if he really couldn’t sing well or if he was pretending to make me feel better. Either way, it was hilarious.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” he demanded, turning the volume down. “How are you going to tell me not to laugh at you while you’re over there laughing at me?”

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