Page 110 of Flipping His Script
But I didn't mind. Suddenly, he felt like a kindred spirit. Somehow, we'd survived a public dinner together. That wassomething, right?
I hesitated.Did it count if we hadn't eaten?
Probably, that was a question for another time.
For now, I was just glad that we were leaving. Smiling with relief, I said, "Ready?"
He didn't smile back. He didn't even reply. But hedidput an arm over my shoulders, guiding me through the crowd as we headed out the door.
To my surprise, it was raining buckets. Just like so many other things tonight, it hadn't been in the forecast.
In spite of the downpour, Flynn made no move to hurry as we walked toward his car. Warmed by his embrace, neither did I, not even when rolling thunder sounded in the distance.
As we moved, I could feel his muscles shifting against my side, reminding me how blissful it had felt to be held in his arms and pulled tight against him.And that mind-blowing kiss.Even now, thoughts of it were distracting me to no end.
But I was determined not to show it. Talking louder than normal to be heard over the rain, I said, "So did Preston mind that we were leaving?"
Without breaking stride, Flynn replied, "No."
"You know what's weird?" I said. "I'm kind of surprised that Mackenzie didn't go back to the booth. Did he ask where she was?"
"Yeah. He asked."
"And what did you tell him?"
"I told him to get off his dead ass and find her himself."
My hair was already soaked, but I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "You didn't."
"I did."
"What did he say tothat?"
"Nothing. The guy's a pussy."
By the time we reached his car, I was soaked nearly to my skin, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I felt warm and happy for reasons that made no sense whatsoever.
Dinner had been a disaster, and I probably looked like a drowned rat. Still, I leaned into him and asked, "How about the waitress? Did she think it was weird that we weren't staying to eat?"
Abruptly, Flynn pulled away. "Does it matter?"
I looked up, meeting his gaze. "Well…I'm just curious, that's all."
"Trust me. She wasn't complaining."
Knowing Flynn, he'd given her a huge tip for the trouble. I said, "Oh. Well that's good."
As our gazes held, I felt my stomach clench with an emotion that I couldn’t quite decipher.Nerves? Or something else.
His hair was dripping wet, and his eyes were just as stormy as the weather. In the dim light of the parking lot, he looked like a fallen angel, ready to drag me away to God knows where.
And heaven help me, Ialmostwanted to go.
His gaze dipped to my lips, and he leaned achingly close. In a quiet voice, he said, "And we're done talking."
I blinked. "What?"
"You and me. You can cut the act. We're at the car."
