Page 29 of Irresistible Attraction

Wasn't it a dream? It actually happened? Unable to shake off the nagging uncertainty brooding in the back of my brain, I ask myself,How can I gain clarity?

Of course, my phone. After grabbing the device and a deep exhale, I open my messages to see who I texted last. A squeal leaves my lips. Okay, keep breathing, and let's do a deeper investigation by checking my recent calls. My pupils dilate when I read the last call, 12:50 a.m.—Cole.

I throw my telephone onto the purple seat when my brain synapses fire every detail of what happened last night at me as a hyped-up internal aurora borealis.

I kissed him! We... kissed! The memories hit me like a truck. Oh, god, I told him he makes me horny, and I admitted not having sex in months! How am I going to face him? I check the time. 7:02 a.m.

Oh, in twenty-eight minutes I—

My eyes dart to the phone when it beeps, and my pupils dilate when his name pops up.

He's texting me? With anticipation in my fingers, I press the button and read.

I'm in a meeting—no time for a morning workout.

What? A dash of disappointment sets in my gut. This means no clarity on where we stand, and I hate being in the dark, so I text him back.

Work out tomorrow morning?

I stare at the screen, biting my lips, but when it stays blank, I let out a long sigh. Okay, he's busy with work, so he may not respond. Time to get up. I need painkillers. My eyes shift to the table with empty wine bottles, and I giggle. Oh, so worth it. The pinot was amazing. A furious rush of flames flood through me, thinking back at the full-on, open-mouthed sexual French kiss. Our lips fit like two puzzle pieces. The way his fingers increased their hold on my hips made my core pool with want. God, I hoped the kiss would have solved my problem, but it created an extra one. Now I want more. I need more. I need sex.

I push my body into a standing position and walk to my kitchen. After three tall glasses of water and two painkillers, I lean my back against the counter. So what now? For another time, I grab my phone and see if he reacted to my text. Nope.

My hands roam through my hair while I shuffle my hungover ass to my bathroom, where I stare at my reflection in the mirror.Damn, girl, you have work to do to make yourself presentable. This calls for a hot shower, makeup, a kick-ass outfit, and another set of painkillers.

Two hours later, I sit on my couch and smile at my deep scarlet red jumpsuit with a rounded neckline and a keyhole opening to the chest. Killer attire gives a girl the courage she needs after a night of foolish behavior. Not able to control the impulse, I seize my phone and peek at the screen for the tenth time this morning. With a huff, I put it away. Okay, time to stop obsessing. He's at work, give him the benefit of the doubt. I grab my car keys and head to the elevator.

As I wait, I pull out my red lipstick and apply an extra layer on my dry lips. I place it back when the ping announces the elevator's arrival. The doors open, and I'm startled to see Samantha's smiling face greeting me, but what surprises me even more is the towering person standing next to her. Stunned, I walk in, and as I stop next to Samantha, who's a bomb of excitement, it hits me. Cole lied to me. I glance sideways, but when I find he's staring at the wall, I turn my attention to Samantha.

"Hey, sweetheart, how are you?"

"I'm great now that you're here. I wanted to ask you something, but Cole refused to give me your phone number," she declares with a pout.

"Is that so?" With a smirk, I toss my loose hair over my shoulder. "No worries. You can have my number, sweetheart." I open my phone and add her to my contact list as she recites her phone number out loud. I send her a text for confirmation, but I sent an extra message with the words: Work, Grumpy? Lying doesn't suit you.

The sound of two incoming messages fills the air. Both Samantha and Cole grab their phones, and my heart sits in my throat awaiting his response. Samantha's face beams, and I have to contain myself from smirking when I catch his low growl. Without seeing, I can sense his penetrating stare, and it has a direct effect on my inner thermostat.

"Red looks amazing on you," Samantha says, pointing to my outfit. "I want to create my own style. Could you help me with that?" she asks while scratching her arm.

"Sure. I love fashion and clothing, so we can go shopping together and find your unique style. And when we're done, you'll impress every guy in school. They'll stand in line to ask you on a date."

She giggles. I peek at the phone screen when it buzzes with an incoming text. My heart rate shoots up, seeing his name: Cole. Too curious, I open it and read.

She's fifteen. She doesn't need attention from boys.

My lips purse together, and I reply.Why are you so grumpy, Bulldozer?

With my arms now crossed, I observe him checking his message. His jaw muscles clench ferociously as he reads, but instead of responding, he slides the phone back into his pocket and straightens his back, continuing his stare at nothing. My inner fire lights up like a candle drenched in lighter fluid, seeing his compendious reaction. Oh, this man is so...

"Alisha, I'm baking pancakes tonight. Can you join us and try them?" Samantha asks.

Cole's face turns to his daughter. His sharp inhaling breath tells me he's hoping I'll say no. But since he's an ass, I'm not in the mood to do what he wants.

With a bright smile, I reply, "I'd love to. I have a weak spot for pancakes. Just tell me the time, and I'll be there."

Samantha's face beams with excitement, while Cole's face is nothing more than a thundercloud. The second the doors open, he's out.

"Come on, Samantha, school is waiting," he mumbles.

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