I could just imagine his smug look if I called him to tell him I wanted to see him. It was so frustrating—wanting him but not looking forward to the 'I told you so' I was going to get from him.
He had been so confident; it was annoying, but I did want him. There was that familiar tingle in my stomach at the thought of him, his strong hands holding me. It was hard to contain the desire to push through my pride and call him right now.
I glanced at my phone and checked for any missed calls or messages but there were none.
You know where to find me when you're willing to be honest with yourself.After what he'd said, there was no way he was going to come after me. I had been lying to myself, hoping I could change what would happen. I'd been a fool.
I would have to make the next move.
"Ugghh," I mumbled, putting my face into my hands. It was so frustrating.
I looked down at my holey 'couch potato' shirt that I loved so much and refused to throw out. My comfortable gray sweatpants weren't the ideal piece of clothing for seduction either.
Would he even be home tonight? I bit my fingernail as I tried to decide when to go to his house. Maybe the quicker I did this, the less painful the comeback from him would be. My mind was made up. It would have to be tonight.
I went into my room and opened my closet. I needed the right kind of outfit. My eyes trailed over most of my clothes before I slumped down on the bed, feeling a little disheartened.
There was an unexpected knock at the door. I ran my hands over my hair, trying to tame it. I wasn't expecting anyone.
I opened the door.
"Slater," I said, surprised to find him here.
"You didn't check before you opened the door," he said, shaking his head. "After everything that happened to Taylor, you would think you would have learned something."
I crossed my arms. "Are you done yet?"
"Yes."
He looked good, as always. That tingle in my stomach fluttered to life and I felt an excitement tremble through me.
"Sin isn't here," I offered, since I was pretty sure it was the reason he was standing outside my apartment.
"I'm not here for him," he admitted. "Can I come in?"
I nodded before standing back so he could enter. Still with my eyes on him, I closed the door and followed him into the living room.
"Why are you here?" I asked, needing his answer to ease the nervousness I was experiencing.
Did I want him to be here for me? Yes. I couldn't lie to myself.
"Have you made up your mind?" he asked, not answering my question.
"I asked my question first," I stubbornly reminded him, looking at him expectantly.
He closed the distance between us until we stood so close I could almost touch him.
"I got tired of waiting for you." And there it was. He was here for me.
"You're so sure of yourself." I couldn't resist that.
He smiled, that confident tip of his lips that made my stomach swirl. "When it comes to you, I am."
Our gazes held. The moment we had been hurtling toward since we had first met had arrived. It felt inevitable, like no matter what decision we'd made, this was the only outcome.
"I thought you didn't want Steven's seconds?" I had to know why he had changed his mind even though he still thought I had slept with Steven.
"I overheard him admitting to his friends that you had given him the brush-off before he had been able to seal the deal." Once a player, always a player. I couldn't say I was surprised.