Chapter 21
21
I can’t stop smiling. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. This was the best date of my life. When Chad parks his truck in front of my apartment building, my heart races. I don’t want this night to be over, but I’m also nervous about what comes next. I want him. Do I ask? Or should I go for it?
I turn toward him, biting my lip, but there’s no hesitation when I ask, “Do you want to come in?”
Chad looks conflicted. “I’ll walk you to your door.” He squeezes my hand before sliding out of the truck.
I blink, a little surprised. Just to my door?
I watch him as he walks around the truck, my mind racing. Why doesn’t he want to come in? We’ve been flirting and kissing all night—the chemistry between us is undeniable. Right? When he opens the door for me, I hold eye contact with him as I step out.
“Don’t look so sad.”
“I’m not sad.” But I know I don’t sound convincing. “Come inside.” The words slip out again, a bit more insistent this time.
Chad smiles but shakes his head. “No.”
“Chad,” I press, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. He grabs my hand, and we silently walk to my unit.
“That sad face is killing me,” he says as we near my door.
“Why don’t you want me?” I ask, looking down.
Before I know what’s happening, his hand is around my neck, and I’m slammed into my front door. “Are you serious?” he breathes, looking down at me—and fuck, am I wet right now. That was hot. “I want you, Anna.”
“So come inside,” I pant, his big hand covering my throat, applying the slightest pressure. Staring up at him, feeling so small beneath his height and presence, I’m weak. He has to be able to feel my pulse and how fast my heart is beating.
“Not tonight, little bunny.”
“Why not?” My voice comes out more breathless than I want, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. His thumb brushes gently along the side of my neck. No one has ever done that to me before.
“Because you’re special.”
I huff, louder than I mean to, crossing my arms as I feel my body practically shaking with need. Why do I have to be special? Why can’t he want to fuck me without thinking about what happens next? I want him so bad, and his hand around my neck is not helping me calm down.
“You’re trying to wife me up,” he grumbles. “What kind of girl would I be if we slept together right now?”
I giggle despite the frustration simmering inside me, uncrossing my arms. He squeezes my neck a little, pressing me back against the door more, getting closer to me, and my pulse skyrockets.
“I think,” I say, barely getting the words out because I am so fucking turned on, “you’d be the kind of girl who has her cake and eats it too.”
His lips crash into mine, his hand still firmly wrapped around my neck. It’s the kind of kiss that makes me think he’s changing his mind. The kind of kiss that says more is going to happen. This kiss has me breathless and wanting to pull him back in when he breaks away.
“I hate you,” I breathe, though my body is arching into him.
His fingers stroke my neck, turning me on more as we stare at each other.
“You’re mean,” I pant as he releases my neck.
“I want you … I really fucking want you. Trust me.” He brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. “Let me be a gentleman tonight … so I can not be one the next time I see you.”
My heart practically leaps out of my chest, and somehow, I manage, “Okay.”
“When’s your next free night?” he asks, interlacing our hands.
“Thursday,” I breathe, my mind already fast-forwarding. Two days … too many days. Why do I have to wait two more days?!
“Thursday. I’ll make dinner.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying to play it cool even though I’m sweating, wet, and considering mauling him. “Where do you live?”
“I’m picking you up. Then, you’ll see.”
“So, you want me trapped at your house?”
He leans in closer, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You’re dropping a lot of hints that you want me to kidnap you.”
I laugh. “No, I’m just being funny.”
“Sure,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. “Thursday. I’ll grab you at six.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Grab?”
“There will be lots of grabbing.” His eyes darken with a promise.
I hold his gaze, unable to stop myself from smiling. “What else?”
“Whatever you want.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“Please do.”
I smirk, my mind already racing ahead to Thursday, imagining what could happen, what I want to happen.
“See you on Thursday.” He leans in for one last kiss, this one slow, tender, and sweet. Both of his hands cup my face, making me feel all the good butterflies. As he pulls away, he commands in a low voice, “Go inside.”