He grins down at me, hands tucked into his dark blue dress pants, strong, tattooed forearms on display with white shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows. “I heard they have great events in Vegas.”
My hands grip the marble counter behind me, and after a short stretch of silence, Sawyer reaches around me and turns off the faucet.
His fresh cologne—the same scent he was wearing the night we hooked up—wafts over me, and the tingles I convinced myself were long gone tickle my body, down to my toes.
He lets out a long exhale as his eyes drop down my body. It’s subtle enough that he can convince himself I didn’t notice, but I did.
“I didn’t want him to be disappointed.” I don’t recognize my own voice; it sounds thick and tense. I quickly clear my throat. “I have a day off, and I really don’t mind. Sharing my passion makes me happy.”
Sawyer smiles at that, his tongue peeking out to run across his bottom lip. “I’ve finally found something that makes you smile, huh?”
I fight back the urge to do just that and he steps a little closer.
“Is there anything else that makes you happy, Collins?”
The tingles intensify, and I bite the inside of my cheek, attempting to suppress them. “Personal space is always a winner.”
He throws his head back and chuckles low toward the ceiling. “You know what I think?”
I grip the marble harder. “Enlighten me.”
In a fast move I don’t expect, Sawyer tips my chin up with his finger, pinning his green eyes on mine. “I think giving me shit makes you happy.”
He’s not wrong; I can’t deny that a guy who can banter turns me on.
“Shame your comebacks are crap though,” I reply, swiping his finger away.
He maintains eye contact, and I could kick myself when my eyes fall to his full lips. I remember a lot about that night—probably more than I should for a one-night stand. But one thing we’ve never shared was a kiss.
I shake away the urge.
“Am I invited to your playdate tomorrow?” he asks, tone subtly flirtatious.
I reach to the side and grab a cloth, ready to start working on the dishes. “Depends. If talking about bikes will bore you to death, you can just drop off and go find something sporty to do.”
Laughter filters from the dining room, and Sawyer releases me from his penetrative gaze, looking over his shoulder.
“I think I can stand your company for an hour.” He turns back to me, challenge all over his face. “How about one p.m.?”
He reaches into his pocket and hands me his phone.
“What do you want me to do with this?” I ask.
He tips his chin at it. “Your address would help since I never dropped you home that night.”
I drop my head, trying to hide the flush that warms my cheeks.
Get a grip, Collins.He’s just a man.
“Oh yeah. Duh,” I quickly reply, my head spinning with his proximity.
Opening a new contact, I enter my address, offering the phone to him when I finish the zip code.
Sawyer doesn’t take it back. All he does is smile at me. I want to look away and break whatever trance he has me in. I also don’t. The tension between us is addictive, and the more we interact, the more it builds.
Dangerous. This boy is dangerous for you, Collins. Especially now that you’re spending time with his son.
Catching feelings is not an option for anyone in this scenario.