Page 5 of Until You're Mine
I braced my hand on the top of the door and tried to tug again but couldn’t slide free. With a few contortionist-type moves, I managed to get my lipstick upright on the console, then I reached up to remove the clump of hair that’d caught on the wires under the seat.
“Having some trouble?”
The deep voice made me jump, and naturally, my head whacked the underside of the seat. If I hadn’t looked at the calendar this morning, I’d swear it was Monday, shitty Monday. “I’m fine.”
“Yes, yes you are. Don’t get me wrong, I could stand out here all day, watching your ass bob up and down, but I’m starting to feel sorry for you, and that just takes all the fun out of it.”
If I could shoot the guy a dirty look, I would. And that was still in the plans, I just had to free myself without leaving behind a bald patch. Finally, the last few strands came free and I sat back on my heels.
A large hand came into view, and I hesitated a moment before taking it. He pulled me to my feet, and I quickly let go and took a step back, trying to regain my bearings.
The guy who’d been doing striking drills in the cage yesterday stood across from me, an amused smile on his ridiculously handsome face.
My what nice eyes you have.Seemed appropriate to compare him to the Big Bad Wolf, considering the predatory look in his green eyes and wolfish grin, the better to short-circuit my brain with. I hadn’t gotten a good glimpse at much besides his torso and those jacked arms, so I’d missed details like his nearly-black hair worn short but slightly messy on top, the scruff dusting his jaw, and green eyes framed by dark eyebrows that arched as I finished my ocular pat down.
Realizing I was staring and way too close, andwhat the hell am I doing,I have a boyfriend,I went to take another step back. My car’s side mirror jabbed into my hip and I swore, which only added more amusement to his expression.
I rubbed the spot, even though that had never worked very well at easing pain. “I’m having an off day, okay?”
“Okay.” He jerked his chin toward my car. “Nice wheels, by the way.”
Despite the fact that it’d held me captive for a few minutes, I patted the turquoise hood of my 1967 Ford Mustang. “Thanks. He’s my baby.”
“Oh, it’s a he, is it?”
“For sure. He growls and acts real tough, but if I don’t give him the right fuel, or it’s been too long since I’ve taken him for a ride, he gets all whiney about it.”
Sexy Fighter Dude ran a couple of fingers over his nice mouth—so sue me, I noticed—and his laughter came out low. The swirl in my stomach was because I missed my boyfriend.
And maybe just a smidge because the guy standing across from me was crazy hot. Luckily I knew that in the long run, that wasn’t what was important. Fighters were moody and self-involved, completely aware of their hotness and often used that to charm their way into getting whatever they wanted, and being with them was like volunteering for a rollercoaster ride that dropped you off a cliff at the end. I wanted a steady guy who’d be there for me when I needed him, one who I could trust with my heart.
I had that with Trey, the guy who’d been my constant for nearly a year, so I was shutting down my unruly thoughts about the guy standing across from me ASAP.
“It sounds to me like you’re not getting enoughsatisfactionduring the ride.” His smooth, deep voice rumbled through me, like the bass line of a song, and my pulse picked up the beat. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to go very long without insisting he take you for another spin.”
Heat settled in my cheeks, but I did my best to appear unaffected—I wished I was. Evidently, I was going to have to up my defenses when it came to Fighter Dude, strike the sexy. “I’m not sure this conversation is going in a very appropriate direction.”
“You started it,” he said, a gleam in his eye that made me feel too hot all over.
Come to think of it, I was sure that was mostly the sun. There wasn’t any fog to keep things cool here, like in San Francisco, where I had a kind, considerate boyfriend.
Time to shut this down, hard. With guys of the cocky variety, I’d found it was best not to leave any wiggle room. “Well, this is me finishing it. It won’t happen again.”
He took a step closer, and awareness pricked my skin. “Okay, next time I’ll start it.”
I put a hand out, my palm flat against his annoyingly firm chest, and pushed away the memory of the way the word “satisfaction” had rolled off his tongue and awakened something in me that needed to go back to sleep. “Obviously, I wasn’t clear. I have a boyfriend. I was just making a stupid joke, and I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way. I wasn’t flirting with you, and it certainly wasn’t an invitation.”
He looked down at me, not moving out of my space. Then he pressed his lips together. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”
Irritation crept in. I wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he’d just take it and run us in circles, so I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction—which was apparently the keyword of the day. “Okay, then. I’m sure you’ve got some training to do, and I need to get to work myself.”
“Right. I’ll see you inside…” He raised his eyebrows, a question in the curve. “I know it’s Roth, and I’m fine by calling you that if you want, but—”
“It’s Brooklyn. Now, off you go.” I made a shooing motion and took another step back, my butt hitting my car door. It moved, giving under my weight for a second before it met the frame. Of course, in that second I’d waved my arms and no doubt made a stupid face, so add that to the awesomeness of my day. I steadied myself against the door and let out a shallow exhale.Just keep it together for a few more seconds and then you can go back to being a hot mess.
“You don’t want my name?” Fighter Dude asked.
I lifted my chin. “I’ll learn it sooner or later, but I’m not in any big hurry.”
