Page 47 of Until You're Mine
My heart sank, and I almost backed my car out of its parking space. But I’d come this far. My fingers trembled as I tapped out a response.
Me:I need to see you.
The day had left me a tad beat up, and I needed to know that he still wanted to see me. That I wouldn’t surprise him and find another girl there, or that I hadn’t imagined everything brewing between us, and because despite having an amicable breakup with Trey, I felt guilty for even thinking about rushing right over to see Shane the second I dropped my barely-exed boyfriend at the airport.
Shane:If you do come over I’m not sure I can behave. Watching you leave today, knowing I made you cry. If you want to know the truth I’m a little drunk.
Me:Shane, ASK ME!!!
Shane:Come over.
Of course he didn’t ask, something I’d have to take up with him once my heart wasn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest.
I wrapped my fingers around the door handle, sucked in a deep breath, and then climbed out of my car. The rain pounded down in sheets, whipping at my skin, and I fled for the shelter of the apartment complex. I happened to pick the exact spot where the gutters dumped their runoff, and that finished the job of leaving me completely drenched. Guess it was good I didn’t waste time going home to change and redo my hair and makeup.
I rushed up the stairs like I was in a fight-training movie. I even considered a Rocky-type fist raise when I made it to the third floor.
I hope I have the right place.
I pulled out my phone to double check the address and then stopped in front of apartment 307. The weight of what I was about to do hit me. Things would be different. I’d be putting myself in a vulnerable position. It couldn’t end well.
Yet…if I didn’t play this out—if I didn’t take a chance—I feared I’d always regret it.
Apparently my brain was stuck on the All-Shane channel because I heard him in my head again:Life is short, but it feels a lot longer with regrets weighing you down.
Holding on to that thought, I raised my fist and knocked, hard enough it stung my knuckles.
Each second Shane didn’t answer grinded by at a painfully slow pace, and after waiting what seemed like an inordinate time to answer the door, I knocked again.
The door swung open, and he stood in the entryway, in baggy shorts that hung dangerously low on his hips, his torso gloriously bare. A bottle of Jack Daniels dangled between his fingers. His gaze dropped to my chest, and when I followed suit, I noticed that I looked like a wet T-shirt contest participant.
“Yeah, it’s kinda rainy out,” I said. “Are you going to invite me in?”
He gestured me inside, and I turned to close the door behind me. When I spun back around he’d closed the distance, and he no longer had hold of the bottle of Jack. He braced one hand against the door, right next to my head, the way he’d done in the locker room. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. Breathless and too hot and too cold, but sure. Totally okay. Faced with this tall, muscled hunk of a dude, I found it harder to say what I wanted to—probably because I didn’t even know where to start.Just spit it out. Say something…
“Want a tour?” he asked.
“Sure.” That’d buy me some time to get it together.
Shane didn’t move. “Living room’s here, bedroom’s back there”—he jerked a thumb over his shoulder—“and I have a kitchen and a bathroom.”
I bit back a smile. “Informative.”
His free hand came up on the other side of my head, his body caging me in, and his eyes bored into mine. “What are you doing here, Brooklyn? Besides lookin’ to get yourself into trouble.”
I reached up and twisted one of my wet curls around my finger. “It’s sort of a long story that I don’t really want to get into right now, but the gist of it is that Trey and I broke up. I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.”
Shane’s eyes darkened in a flash, something primal overtaking his features, and it sent a spike of awareness through me.
“Wrong,” he said, the word so short, sharp, and final that I almost questioned if I’d broken up with Trey. “You have one now, and he’s a jealous asshole who sometimes loses his shit. But good news…” He lowered his body so that it pressed me flatter to the door, and his growing erection ignited a pulsing need between my thighs. “He’s really fucking good in bed.”
A whimper escaped as he pushed into me. He trailed his lips over my jaw and then nipped at my earlobe. “I think this is the part where you tell him to prove it.”
I ran my hands up his muscled back, feeling all the exquisite dips and grooves. “Do you have a script typed up? I guess you better hand it to me so I can—”
He rolled his hips, the delicious friction making me moan, and a cocky smile curved his lips. “No script. But spoiler alert: there’s going to be more moaning and panting, and then there’ll be screaming of my name.”
