Page 23 of Fixing to Be Mine

“Who saidanythingabout dating?” I ask, wearing the smirk I know drives her a little wild.

“I, uh …” Her throat tightens.

She takes a swig straight from the bottle like it’s a life preserver.

“Rules are made to be broken,” I tell her.

She takes another shot, and if I’m counting correctly, that’s four.

“You tryin’ to get shit-faced, darlin’?”

“Maybe,” she whispers, staring at my lips. “I should probably take a shower.”

“Go ahead. You earned it. Also, we have unlimited hot water.”

“We,” she repeats.

“It’s our place until you leave,” I tell her.

Her eyes stay on mine for a moment too long, like she’s working up the nerve to say something she’s not ready to let out. But in the end, she stays quiet. I can see the alcohol making its way through her system, her eyes somewhat glassy.

“Thank you for everything,” she says. “You don’t know how much I needed this.”

“I think I do.” I take another shot. “Have a nice shower.”

Sunny walks away, her silhouette vanishing down the hall like a decision I can’t chase.

I stay rooted in place, like if I move, I’ll lose the thread of what passed between us. We built something today. It might not look like much to anyone else, but to me, it was real.

A moment later, I hear the shower turn on. The stream runs steady, and even though I can’t see her, I can feel her presence everywhere—the echo of her laugh, the press of her hand still faint on my chest. My thoughts start pulling in directions they shouldn’t, all heat and bare skin and closeness I promised myself I’d take slowly if I found it again.

I try not to imagine her under the water with steam curling around her sexy body. I try—oh, God knows I try—but fail. Before I get wrapped in the fantasy of her, I hear a moan.

It’s soft and quiet, and it lands like a match in dry hay.

I drag my hand across my jaw and try to focus on anything else, but it’s no use.

She’s not just in my house anymore; she’s under my skin, and nothing about it feels wrong. I only hope we survive each other.

I’m not searching for a fling. I want forever.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SUNNY

The second the bathroom door clicks shut, I brace both hands on the vanity and stare at my reflection like it might tell me what the hell I’m doing. My skin’s flushed, my pulse won’t settle, and my body is vibrating from everything that’s happened between us. The tequila swims through my blood, making me give no fucks. Inhibitions being down around him is bad.

Colt didn’t kiss me, but I’m still wrecked because I wanted him to.

I try to pretend this is another shower in another place with nothing on my mind, but all I can see is him and the way he looked at me today. I’ll never forget how his voice dropped when he told me I looked good, covered in his mess. He caught my chin, his gaze locked on my lips, and told me I didn’t know what I was doing to him. That damn drawl, combined with those baby-blue eyes, is deadly.

It would’ve been easier if hehadkissed me. At least then I’d have something to explain why I was this undone. Then I’d know if there was a real spark between us.

My whole body sings from our chemistry. It’s electrifying. A simple look has me coming undone.

I tilt my head back and let it pour over my face, over my neck, down between my breasts, and over the tight pull in my belly that hasn’t let up since he pressed me against that wall. The moment I close my eyes, I see him, T-shirt clinging to his chest, sweat dripping down his neck, fingers smeared with drywall compound and temptation. Those black glasses framed his face perfectly, giving him that nerdy but sexy vibe.

The water cascades down my body like liquid fire, each droplet a searing reminder of the tequila coursing through my veins. Four shots deep, and I’m fucking buzzing, my skin hypersensitive, my mind lost in a whirlwind of Colt.

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