Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Clark
I have a name to fit the face now. Jess.
And suddenly, I want to know more. Everything.
I catch the edge of her argument with her sorry excuse for a date. The crowd roars around us, the squeak of sneakers against the court floor echoing in the distance, but even if the sound cut out, I’d still feel the tension radiating from her body. Whatever they’re saying, it’s not good.
How could it be when she just kissed another man?
Me.
And I don’t regret it. Not for a second. If anything, I want to do it again. As soon as possible.
Ingrid ribs me about kissing a stranger, but her voice is background noise. My focus is locked on Jess.
Her phone-addicted date pins me with a glare. “You want her?” he sneers, standing up. “She’s all yours, asshole.”
The word cuts through the roar of the arena like a slap. Around us, the crowd erupts as the Stingers sink another three-pointer. I should be performing the secret handshake with Ingrid. I should apologize.
But I don’t. Because I’m not sorry I kissed her.
Jess shoots to her feet, purse clutched tight. “I’m not a possession to pass around,” she snaps, tossing her ponytail like a whip as she storms into the aisle.
We both watch her go, fire blazing in every step.
“Are you going after her?” I ask.
He scoffs. “That woman is more trouble than she’s worth.”
Trouble? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely.
I swivel toward Ingrid, brow raised.
“What are you waiting for?” she says, confirming the truth already pounding in my chest.
I push past the loser who couldn’t be bothered to look up from his phone and take the stairs two at a time, weaving through strangers and bumping shoulders. My pulse hammers louder than the announcer’s voice booming over the speakers.
She’s almost through the exit when I call her name.
She freezes, her hand on the metal bar of the door. The fluorescent light above flickers, throwing her face into shadow for a beat, then her head snaps up, eyes flashing like a storm.
“You don’t have to rescue me,” she bites out. “I’m no damsel in distress.”
I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to make myself smaller, less threatening. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Color blooms across her cheeks, gorgeous and infuriating. “I kissed a stranger in front of my date. No, I’m not okay.”
I smother a smile. “I can’t believe we did that.”
Her finger jabs my chest. “It’s your fault.”
“My fault? How?”
“You’re too attractive.”
A laugh bursts from me, unguarded, and damn it feels good. She makes me feel good—when I should be feeling guilty.
“Thank you.”
She huffs, crossing her arms, but her eyes flick over me like she can’t help herself. “My brother is never going to let me live this down.”
“Neither is my sister. She’s probably already texting my mom.” I groan, feeling a whisper of regret for the first time. “And my cousin. And half the town.”
Her frown deepens, a little dent forming between her brows. “I’m sorry. But not really.”
That kiss might have caused more than a chink in the reputation I’d worked hard to restore. I think about the damage, and then dismiss it. I’m not that man who used to run through women like snacks. I don’t even date.
“I’m sorry too,” I say, fighting off a grin. “But not really.”
She narrows her eyes at me—two bright blue lasers looking all the way through my protective layers. “Why do you have to be sweet and attractive? Guys like you leave guys like Kyle absolutely no chance.”
“His loss.” I step closer, heat mounting between us.
“I don’t usually do things like this,” she admits, her voice softer now, edged with nerves.
“Me neither.” The grin totally takes over my mouth. “Must’ve been the mistletoe.”
Her lips twitch. “I think it was you.”
The air between us feels charged, dangerous. I step closer. She meets me halfway.
When her hands slide around my neck, I’m lost. The urge to claim, to keep, blazes through me. I shouldn’t feel this much for someone I don’t even know—but God, I do.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, yanking me down, and our mouths collide. She tastes like butter and salt, and the world shrinks like a snow globe around just us.
Until someone taps my shoulder.
I jerk back, ready to tear into Kyle—but it’s Ingrid.
“Everything alright?” I ask, instantly on edge as I take in the look on her face.
She closes her eyes, grimacing. “I don’t feel so good.”
Panic slices through me. “Is it the baby?”
She burps—loud, unapologetic. “I think it might be the nachos.”
Jess’s face flickers with amusement, then softens. “You should get her home.”
Ingrid looks like she might not make it the hour-long drive home without blowing chunks in my truck. Luckily, I have a strong stomach and an unlimited monthly membership at the local car wash.
“Sorry,” Ingrid says, her gaze darting between me and the gorgeous stranger I’ve just kissed twice. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
“It’s okay.” The woman smiles, her eyes lingering on me. “My Uber is here anyway.”
”Wait.” I rush in front of her and open the glass door to exit the arena. “Can I get your number?”
She hesitates. “Maybe we should just leave this as a great holiday experience.”
“I’d like another experience with you,” I say.
Her brow creases as she considers my suggestion, and I can’t help wondering who hurt her.
“Why don’t you give me your number?” she asks.
My stomach sinks. That’s the oldest trick in the book. Still, I rattle it off, raising my voice over the sudden loud cheering. From the sound of the fans going wild, I guess the Stingers are finally in the lead.
“Did you get that?” I yell over the screaming fans.
She nods, and then she’s gone—vanishing into the crowd like smoke.
I know in my gut, she’s never going to call.