Page 39 of Inviting Trouble
She jabbed him. “Park.”
He ignored her.
She sat on the sofa next to him and jabbed him in the ribs. “Park, it’s Mad. Wake up.”
He groaned and shifted, his ribs smarting. She jabbed him again.
His eyes flew open. “What?”
She leaned close. So close. Her familiar sweet scent tinged with something else, something dangerously close to sexy. “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered, her lips only millimeters away.
He closed his eyes, shutting out temptation. “Oh, man, the room’s spinning. I drank too much.”
He felt her shift away.
“How much did you drink?” she asked suspiciously.
He waved his hand around, feigning drunk. He knew what it looked like, even if he rarely indulged. “Eight beers. Me and Ty had one last party. So-o-o wasted.”
The light turned on by the end table. He squinted against the glare. She peered into his eyes. “Your eyes don’t look drunk.”
“I’m feeling it, believe me.” He turned off the light and flopped down on his side. “Go to bed, mini.”
Her warm fingers stroked his hair, leaving a tingling trail. “Your hair feels different.” Her fingers trailed to his neck. “I’m not mini anymore. I’m all grown up.”
He knew what she meant. He’d tried not to notice. She was too young and meant for better than him.
He rolled to his back, covering his eyes with his arm. “Let me sleep this off. Seriously. Wa-a-ay too much to drink.” He breathed deeply, feigning the sleep of the drunk, hoping she’d move on. Hoping one day she’d forget him and he’d return to find her with a family man. One who could give her everything she deserved.
He shifted, purposely nudging her off the sofa. She must’ve been standing next to the sofa now because he didn’t hear footsteps walking away and he could still breathe her in.
He heard some movement and held his breath, hoping she was turning away, when soft lips grazed his, jolting him. He didn’t move. He was frozen, yet on fire. She did it again, her lips brushing his and then fitting more firmly against him. Carnal heat rushed through him and he reacted instinctively, kissing her back, and then more, needing to taste. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and the moment she opened for him, his tongue delved inside her hot mouth. His hand came up, about to pull her on top of him when she moaned and he jerked back to reality. He dropped his hand, broke the kiss, and rolled to his side, giving her his back.
“Park,” she whispered urgently, “I want you to be my first.”
He nearly groaned, honored in her faith in him and wanting what could never be his. Ty would kill him. Her father would banish him from the only family where he ever truly belonged. He fervently wished he’d met her any other way. Or that somehow he’d never been attracted to her.
He could feel her leaning over him. She was only fifteen. He pretended to be sleeping, even as part of him rebelled, angry that he’d never be her first now. She’d find someone else when he was away. Some jerk that didn’t deserve her.
A long moment passed and then she stroked his hair. “Come back in one piece, okay?”
Park let out a long breath. He knew he’d done the right thing back then. He’d left her an innocent girl. Whatever she’d done in the intervening years was none of his business. And now he had to admit she was all grown up, no longer an innocent girl, but a full-grown sexy woman. But that still didn’t mean she was for him.
He was too restless to sleep. He propped the pillows behind him, turned on the TV, and stared blankly at some old movie as visions of Mad kept crashing through his mind. Mad in a towel. Mad working out in nothing but a bra. Mad in a sexy dress, that tattoo playing peekaboo, enticing him. Not going there, he told himself sternly. Off-limits. And then he’d see her again in his mind, sleek and toned, a body that was strong and feminine, sexy, so sexy. He scrubbed a hand over his face.
There was a knock at the door.
He jackknifed upright in bed. Was it her? She’d said she was coming for him.
Another knock, louder and more urgent.
He strode to the door, flipped on the light, and looked through the peephole. His heart kicked up, even though he knew he had to end this here and now.
He pulled the door open a crack. “Mad,” he started and then trailed off in shock as he realized she was standing in nothing but a blue flannel shirt. His shirt. The shirt from his bittersweet memories. She’d kept it all these years.
He suddenly felt like he had a do-over. To change the outcome of that long-ago night the way he wished he could have if the timing had been right.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, her deep brown eyes never leaving his. He opened his mouth and shut it again as she slowly unbuttoned the shirt, starting at the top. His gaze dropped, riveted to every inch of exposed skin, knowing what she was finally showing him. And then the shirt fell open and he saw it. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, everything around him dimming as his eyes locked on the small hawk tattoo over her heart. A gift that touched him soul deep.
