Page 44 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

“See you then.”

She pulls open the door and steps aside so I can exit first. I shoot her a quick wink as I pass, then head back out into the shop without looking back at her. Because if I do, I’ll push her back inside her office and never let her escape.

“Your coffee is ready, Mr. Reese,” the barista calls out, and I head in her direction.

“It’s on the house,” Willow says from behind us, and I turn and lift my cup in thanks before heading to the door.

As I push through, the bells jingle and the birds sing and the sun comes out after a long winter’s break. Okay, now I reallyamwaxing poetic. But I don’t give a shit.

I have a date with Willow Bardin, and nothing is going to bring me down from this high.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Willow

I’m not sure where Gavin is taking me tonight, so I decide on a pair of dark-washed skinny jeans and a light sweater just in case we end up being outside at all. The nights are definitely turning cooler as summer fades into fall, and I don’t want anything to distract me from focusing on Gavin, not even the weather.

I’m almost embarrassingly excited about this date now that I’ve given myself permission to enjoy Gavin while he’s here. I know he’s going to leave. I know things may not work out for us, long-term.

But I also know that if I don’t give it a shot and continue to hold him at an arm’s length, I’ll regret the hell out of it when he’s gone. If the two kisses we’ve shared have proved anything, it’s that the spark is still there.

And I want to explore that spark. As long as I remember this probably isn’t going anywhere serious, I’ll be fine, right? I mean, I’m a grown woman, experienced in casual sex that doesn’t always lead to a full-blown relationship. I can handle it.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

I’m pulling on a pair of black ankle boots when I hear a knock at the door. My heart thumps out an irregular beat as I stand up, smooth my sweater, and walk toward the door at a slow, measured pace.

When I pull it open and see Gavin on the other side, looking fine in a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a button down shirt, butterflies take flight in my stomach. God damn, he’s gorgeous.

He takes his time checking me out in return, his gaze traveling down the full length of me before zipping back up to meet mine. Then he smiles, and I’m truly a goner.

“You look beautiful, Willow,” he says, his voice soft and almost reverent.

“Thank you,” I murmur, then clear my throat. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” he says, his smile widening. “You ready?”

“I am,” I say, grabbing the small purse I packed earlier with my phone, some lip gloss, my keys, and a little something for later.

After locking the door behind me, I try not to react when Gavin’s large palm presses against the small of my back. He leads me to the passenger seat of his car, and when he reaches out to open the door, I miss the heat of his hand on me.

Once inside, I close my eyes and silently reprimand myself while he jogs around the car. I need to get it together and let things progress naturally. It’s like ever since I gave myself permission to enjoy Gavin while he’s here, the only kind of “enjoying” my mind and body are focused on is the physical, between-the-sheets kind.

“Calm yourself, hussy,” I whisper as the door opens and Gavin climbs in behind the wheel.

“Did you say something?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“Nope.”

He stares at me for a moment, then shakes his own head and starts the car. As we pull out onto the highway that leads to Jonas Hill, Gavin asks about my day. As I tell him about the customer who insisted on returning a set of divining rods because they didn’t lead her to water, even with her bathtub running in the next room, Gavin laughs, and my nerves settle a bit.

“Those are for, like talking to spirits and stuff, right?” he asks, and there’s no hint of ridicule in his voice––only simple curiosity––and my chest warms.

“They can be, yes. And historically speaking, people do use them to find water, but she was adamant that they were useless because they didn’t find her bathtub. I had a hard time keeping a straight face.”

“Hazards of the business, I guess,” he says with a grin.

“I do have some regulars who are characters, for sure,” I agree, smiling back at him.

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