Page 12 of ILY
I tilt my head to the side. ‘You want sign?’
He shakes his head and sits back down in the chair. “We can speak. It’s fine.”
I don’t think he knows how fluent I am, but that’s okay. We don’t need to give our life stories here. I mean, he already knows far too much about me. Like I said, I’m a terrible criminal.
I take a deep breath, then slap my hands down on my thighs. “Well. This was fun, but since you’re not going to help me with my Michael problem, and you’re also not going to give me an orgasm, I should get going. I have?—”
“Wait.”
I freeze halfway to standing and stare at him.
He stares back for a second. “What if I follow you back to your place? Maybe I can help reason with Michael.”
I burst into laughter. I can’t help it. “Trust me, that’s not happening.”
“You’d be surprised at my negotiation skills,” he says. There’s an odd inflection in his voice when he says that.
I have a weird feeling that if anyone’s going to be a random groundhog whisperer, it’ll be him. But I’m still not bringing him home. “Look, man. I’m sure you have amazing skills, but I’m not taking you to my house.”
His brows lift. “Why not?”
“Because you’re a dark web stranger who asked for a duffel bag full of cash in exchange for explosives?” He can’t actually be serious thinking I’d invite him to my home. I mean, I’m pretty ridiculous, but I’m not a complete fool. “I want to take care of Michael, not die in the process. Since you’re not going to sell me what I came for, and you’re not going to get me off—which you absolutely don’t need to do…” I stop and feel a rush of weird guilt. “And I shouldn’t have pounced on you like that, by the way. I’m sorry I jumped you. I’ve never?—”
He holds up a hand, cutting me off, and he takes another breath. “It’s fine. You just surprised me, is all.”
“I surprised me too. I promise I don’t normally do that.”
He stares at me for a long time, and I start to feel nervous butterflies inside my stomach.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”
“No. Just curious. Why do you want to get off with a total stranger? Don’t you want a connection?”
That is a great question and one I have a completely reasonable answer to. “Listen, not everyone needs a connection. Sometimes you just need a little relief. And to be honest, allthe men in my life aren’t interested in me,” I admit. I already look pathetic. Why not put the nail in the coffin? I really have nothing to lose at this point. “And the last few dates I had walked out before dessert. They didn’t even offer to split the bill.”
“Oh. That’s fucked.”
“Meh. It is what it is. But,” I wave my hand around, “my wrist is also screwed by carpal tunnel from my former job, so jerking off isn’t as fun as it used to be.”
For a second, it looks like he’s fighting off a smile. Asshole. But I can’t help my lips twitching all the same.
“Welp, now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, I should get going.” When I push myself to my feet, he does too, but he doesn’t let me get far. He steps toward me, and I take a few steps back on instinct.
“Are you this intense on your dates?” he asks, his head cocking slightly.
“No.” I stop. “Shit, maybe. Okay, that would explain a lot. I tend to overshare, but either way, it doesn’t matter. I need the TNT, you aren’t giving it to me, so I should leave.”
He grazes a look up and down my body, then rolls his lips through his teeth like he did before. It’s a look of absolute contemplation. Like he’s negotiating with himself.
“Look, dude. Echo. Whatever,” I say quickly. I set my hand on his chest, and his dark eyes flicker down to it, then back up to mine. His gaze is so intense I drop my hand, my fingers tingling. “It’s fine that you don’t want me. I’m not offended. I mean, it is a blow to the ego because—and can I be blunt—shit, of course I can. I already have.” He huffs a small laugh, as I prattle on. “You’re one of the hottest men I’ve ever laid eyes on, so yes, the rejection does kind of sting, but I get that you’re way out of my league and?—”
He smiles softly and reaches out, setting his hand on my sternum. The weight is powerful and so fucking warm. It cuts my words off, and I shiver slightly when he murmurs, “Hey, Leaf?”
“Mm?”
“Breathe.”
Yeah, I’m not exactly taking in air normally, am I? I must be having a slight panic attack. I inhale and exhale on a five count.
