Page 17 of Never Date A Player
I step outside, and the world rotates, my body lunging against the side of the car. I grip the door for balance and my finger catches at an odd angle, bending painfully.
The crunch of heavy footfalls sounds from the front of the truck. “Need a hand?” Lewis gently closes the passenger door.
I brace my hip on the side of the truck and shake out my finger. “I’m okay.”
One foot in front of the other and holding on to the truck for dear life, I make my way forward. It’s dark. I can’t actually see my feet, but they’re down there somewhere. Releasing the truck hood, I take a tentative step toward the house.
The ground tilts, and then it’s suddenly rushing toward me.
A firm grip at my waist jerks me upright. My legs are swept up next, along with my body.
He’s carrying me?
Lewis cradles my thighs and back, the light spring-scented cologne or aftershave, whatever, the soapy deliciousness that wafts from him in hot waves, pummels my senses. I stifle the instinct to press my nose to his neck. That would be inappropriate. Worse than pinballing into strangers and sexual moans—God, this night is going to embarrass me tomorrow, I just know it. “You smell good,” I tell him on a sigh.
His steps falter, his chest rising on a sharp inhale. A beat passes. “So do you.” His voice is a smooth rumble that sends butterflies ricocheting in my belly.
Did he just admit to liking me? Telling someone you like the way they smell is the same as telling them you like them. Which is what I did… Wait, why can’t I date him? Oh yeah, Mira. I scrunch my nose.
In his arms, my gaze reaches his chin. This close, his features are all masculine edges, his skin even—except for that scar. I’d like to feather my lips across that scar… God, he’s a distraction.
He chuckles.
Did I say that out loud? “Why are you laughing?”
“You’re different when you’re drunk.”
It’s that obvious? Of course it is, you jackass, you’re falling all over the place.
We reach the front door and Lewis adjusts his grip on me. My legs slide down his body, stirring a new series of spastic butterflies low in my belly as he sets me on my feet.
I can’t look up. His scent, touch—his voice—they steal my ability to think, and when I look in his eyes the maelstrom is ten times worse. I keep my gaze glued to his T-shirt and shift around, careful to maintain balance.
Cali and I forgot to turn on the porch light before we left for work, so the lighting issues I had in the driveway linger at the front door. It takes several attempts before I fit the key and release the deadbolt.
Groping the wall inside, I flip on lights and spot Cali’s cell sticking out between the couch cushions. Good, she’s home. One less worry.
Lewis enters behind me, dwarfing our small place and sending my girl parts into high alert. He’s in my home—a few feet from my bed.
Stop thinking of him that way!
He glances past me. “Where’s Cali?”
The bedroom door is closed and no light glimmers below. “Asleep, I think.”
“Will you be okay? I can check on you after I drop off the girls.”
He wants to check on me? To tuck me in? A smile forms on my lips at the same time a hissing exhale sounds from behind.
Mira’s small figure looms in the doorway. “Are you coming?” Her tone is pure annoyance.
Lewis’s gaze doesn’t waver from me. “I’ll be there in a minute, Mira.”
Mira steps to the side so she can intermittently glare at both of us now.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Thanks for the ride. Hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.” I mean, Jesus, it’s after two in the morning.
“No bother,” he says absently, looking around as if to ensure no monsters lurk in dark corners. “I’ll see you later, then.” His gaze sweeps my face before he follows Mira out.
